Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRJEJAWH2JB7EDJBJBKY8F

The rain lashed against Detective Harlow Quinn's face, each drop a stinging needle in the frigid night. Her breath misted in the chill, her heart pounding a rhythm that matched the drumroll of her boots on the slick cobblestones. She'd been chasing Tomás Herrera for what felt like miles, the former paramedic's olive skin and dark hair a fleeting shadow in the neon-lit labyrinth of Soho. Quinn's lungs burned, but she pushed on, her military precision bearing driving her forward. Herrera had slipped into an alley, and she could see the distinctive green neon sign of The Raven's Nest looming at the end. She skidded to a halt, her worn leather watch glinting under the harsh streetlight. The bar was a known haunt of the clique, a group she suspected was involved in something far more sinister than their usual supernatural shenanigans. She could hear Herrera's ragged breaths echoing from the alley, see the faint glow of his phone lighting up the brick wall. He was waiting, probably planning his next move. Quinn's hand hovered over her gun, but she didn't draw it. Not yet. She needed answers, and she needed Herrera alive to give them. "Herrera!" she called out, her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. "It's over, Tommy. Come out with your hands up." Silence. Then, a low chuckle. "You're tenacious, I'll give you that, Detective." Herrera stepped into the light, his warm brown eyes gleaming with a mix of fear and defiance. "But you're out of your league here." Quinn stepped closer, her sharp jaw set. "I've been out of my league since the day I joined the force, Herrera. Now, tell me what you know about the clique's involvement in the Morris case." Herrera's gaze flickered, a hint of vulnerability flashing across his face. "I can't, Detective. I won't. You don't understand what you're dealing with." Quinn's patience was wearing thin. "Then enlighten me. But do it fast, because I'm running out of patience." Herrera looked at her, then at the bar, then back at her. He seemed to be weighing his options, his scarred left forearm flexing as he clenched and unclenched his fist. "Alright, Detective. But not here. Follow me." He turned and walked towards The Raven's Nest, leaving Quinn with a choice to make. Follow him into the lion's den, or let him disappear into the night, taking her only lead with him. Quinn took a deep breath, her brown eyes scanning the alley, the bar, the rain-soaked streets. Then, she followed Herrera, her hand never leaving her gun. The bar was dimly lit, the air thick with smoke and the hum of hushed conversations. The walls were covered with old maps and black-and-white photographs, each one a testament to the city's sordid past. The patrons were a mix of humans and supernaturals, their eyes following Quinn as she walked in, her salt-and-pepper hair glistening with rain. Herrera led her to a booth in the back, his Saint Christopher medallion catching the light as he sat down. Quinn slid in opposite him, her eyes never leaving his face. "Talk," she said, her voice low. Herrera leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "The clique, they're involved in something big, Detective. Something that goes beyond the usual supernatural stuff. They're dealing in artifacts, powerful ones. And they're not the only ones." Quinn's grip tightened on her gun. "What does this have to do with Morris?" Herrera hesitated, then continued, "Your partner, he stumbled onto something he shouldn't have. Something that got him killed. And now, they're after me. I'm the only one left who knows the truth." Quinn felt a chill run down her spine, a cold dread settling in the pit of her stomach. She knew Morris's death had been no ordinary case, had felt the supernatural taint on it from the start. But she'd never imagined it would lead her here, to this hidden world of secrets and shadows. "So, what now?" she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. Herrera looked at her, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and determination. "Now, we go to the Veil Market. It's the only place we can find the answers we need. But it's not going to be easy, Detective. The Market, it's... different." Quinn took a deep breath, her mind racing. She could feel the weight of her gun in her hand, the familiar comfort of it grounding her. She thought of Morris, of the unsolved case that had haunted her for three years. She thought of the truth, of the justice she owed her partner. Then, she made her decision. "Alright, Herrera," she said, her voice filled with resolve. "Let's go to the Veil Market." Herrera nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "You're going to need this," he said, sliding a bone token across the table. "It's our ticket in." Quinn picked up the token, her fingers tracing the intricate carvings on it. She looked at Herrera, then at the bone token, then back at Herrera. She knew she was stepping into the unknown, into a world that was dangerous and unpredictable. But she also knew she had no choice. Not if she wanted to find the truth. She stood up, the bone token clutched in her hand. "Let's go," she said, her voice filled with determination. Herrera stood up as well, his eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope. "You won't regret this, Detective," he said, his voice filled with conviction. Quinn didn't respond, her mind already focused on the task ahead. She followed Herrera out of the bar, her heart pounding in her chest, her breath misting in the cold night air. The rain had stopped, but the streets were still slick, the neon lights reflecting off the wet cobblestones. They walked in silence, the city around them a blur of lights and shadows. Quinn could feel the weight of the bone token in her pocket, the promise of danger and discovery it held. She didn't know what lay ahead, didn't know what she would find at the Veil Market. But she knew she was one step closer to the truth, one step closer to justice. And for now, that was enough.