Run: 2026-02-19-01KHTRPFAH44GHM2RHD099KVSV

Detective Harlow Quinn descended the creaky stairs, her eyes adjusting to the dimly lit abandoned Tube station beneath Camden. The air reeked of dampness and decay, a stark contrast to the bustling streets above. A makeshift sign, scrawled in red on a torn awning, hung crookedly from the entrance: "Veil Market - By Invitation Only". Quinn's gut told her this wasn't a coincidence; the market's clandestine nature was precisely why she'd been summoned. As she reached the platform, a figure in a yellow vest, adorned with reflective strips, approached her. "Detective Quinn, glad you made it. I'm Officer Jensen, scene security." Quinn flashed her badge. "Appreciate the meet, Jensen. What's the situation?" "Victim's down by the eastern tunnel. No surveillance, no witnesses. Just... this." Jensen handed Quinn a pair of latex gloves and a mask. "Forensics is still processing, but initial impressions suggest a robbery gone sour." Quinn's gaze swept the area, taking in the scattered stalls, their wares hastily abandoned. She spotted her colleague, Dr. Henry Lee, crouched beside a body, his suit impeccably tidy despite the surroundings. "Ah, Harlow, perfect timing," Lee said, not looking up. "Our victim, male, approximately thirty-five. No ID on him. Preliminary observations indicate blunt force trauma to the head, likely cause of death." Quinn approached, her eyes scanning the body, the surrounding area, and then locked onto Lee. "You've been here long enough to form an opinion, Henry. What's your take?" Lee finally stood, brushing off his knees. "Given the market's... unique nature, I suspect an internal dispute. Perhaps a deal gone wrong. Note the lack of stolen goods; the victim's pockets are intact, and the stalls, though disheveled, don't appear to have been looted." Quinn's sharp jawline tilted slightly as she pondered Lee's words. Her gaze drifted back to the body, then to the nearby stalls. Something nagged at her, refusing to align with Lee's tidy theory. She walked over to a nearby stall, its sign reading "Moonlit Curios". A few scattered, peculiar items remained: a tarnished silver chalice, a leather-bound tome, and a small, ornate box with a broken lock. "Officer Jensen, can you tell me more about the market's operations?" Quinn asked, not turning from the stall. "It's a supernatural black market, ma'am. They deal in... unusual items. The bone token entry requirement keeps the wrong people out. Or so I've been told." Quinn's attention snapped back to Lee. "Henry, if this was an internal dispute, why leave valuable, albeit... unusual, merchandise behind?" Lee shrugged. "Perhaps the perpetrator was interrupted, or—" "Or what we're looking at isn't a robbery at all," Quinn finished, her brown eyes locking onto the body once more. "The lack of witnesses, the untouched goods... this feels staged. Our victim might not have been the target; he could have been the message." Lee raised an eyebrow. "A bit far-fetched, don't you think, Harlow? We should focus on the evidence at hand." Quinn crouched beside the body, her worn leather watch glinting in the dim light. She gently lifted the victim's hand, examining it for any signs of a struggle or defense. A small, almost imperceptible mark on the palm caught her attention - a symbol she recognized from her past, unsolved case, the one that had taken DS Morris's life. "A symbol, Henry. Similar to those found at the Redmond case. This goes beyond a simple market dispute," Quinn said, her voice low and even, yet laced with a hint of determination. "I want forensics to scan for any supernatural residues, and I need to speak with the market's organizers. This isn't just a crime scene; it's a doorway to something more." As Quinn stood, her military precision bearings evident in her poised stance, she noticed a small, brass compass lying near the body's feet. The face etched with protective sigils glinted in the faint light, the needle quivering, pointing toward the eastern tunnel. "Officer Jensen, it seems we have a new lead. This compass... it might just show us what others have missed." With the compass in hand, Quinn began to follow its quivering needle, her sharp mind racing with the possibilities, the darkness of the tunnel beckoning her toward the unseen. "Harlow, wait!" Lee called after her, but Quinn's response was merely the echo of her footsteps, fading into the depths of the tunnel, in pursuit of the truth that lay beyond the veil.