Run: 2026-02-20-01KHYB8Q1MZ5M980HW05Y7NBWT

The neon glow of the Raven’s Nest pulsed like a heartbeat against the rain-slicked pavement, its green sign flickering weakly. Detective Harlow Quinn’s breath fogged in the cold air as she sprinted past the dimly lit windows, her boots splashing through puddles. The scent of aged wood and something metallic—old blood, maybe—cut through the damp. She didn’t slow down. Ahead, Tomás Herrera moved with the fluid grace of someone who’d spent years dodging bullets, his dark curls damp but unbroken. He turned a corner, disappearing into the labyrinth of alleyways that led deeper into Soho. Quinn’s fingers tightened around the grip of her revolver, her jaw set. She’d been chasing this lead for weeks, but every step felt like a gamble. The air grew thicker, the scent of damp stone and something older, something *wrong*, seeping from the cracks in the pavement. She followed the sound of voices—low, urgent, muffled. Ahead, the alley split, and she saw the flicker of a lantern, casting long shadows over a crumbling Tube station entrance. The door was ajar. Quinn hesitated. The Veil Market wasn’t just a place—it was a trap. But Tomás wasn’t the kind to walk away from a fight. She took a deep breath, her military precision kicking in. The door groaned as she pushed it open, the cold draft of the underground hitting her like a slap. The station was a maze of rusted tracks and flickering bulbs, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and something darker. The voices grew louder, closer. Quinn’s pulse hammered in her throat as she stepped forward, her boots sinking slightly into the uneven floor. Then she saw him. Tomás stood in the center of the station, his back to her, his Saint Christopher medallion glinting under the dim light. Beside him, a figure moved—tall, cloaked, their face obscured by the shadows. Quinn’s instincts screamed at her to run, but her training wouldn’t let her. She had to know. “Herrera,” she called, her voice steady despite the adrenaline. “You’re not alone.” Tomás didn’t turn. “I know.” The cloaked figure spoke, their voice smooth, dangerous. “She’s too late.” Quinn’s grip on her revolver tightened. “Who the hell are you?” The figure stepped forward, their silhouette sharp against the dim light. “You’ve been looking for answers, Detective. But answers don’t stay where they’re found.” Tomás exhaled sharply, his voice low. “She’s not here to fight.” Quinn’s eyes flicked to him, then back to the stranger. “Then why are you both here?” The figure’s hand moved, and Quinn barely had time to react before a shadow lashed out— Tomás was there first, his body blocking the strike, his forearm slamming into the stranger’s ribs. Pain flared along his scarred skin, but he didn’t flinch. Quinn’s revolver was already drawn, her finger tightening on the trigger. “Drop it,” she ordered, her voice a low growl. The stranger didn’t move. “You don’t understand what you’re walking into.” Quinn’s breath came fast. “Then explain it.” The figure’s laughter was dark, echoing through the station. “The Veil Market doesn’t sell just goods. It sells secrets. And secrets have teeth.” Tomás’s grip on the stranger’s arm tightened, his voice a growl. “We’re not leaving until you talk.” The stranger’s eyes burned with something Quinn couldn’t read. Then, with a final smirk, they vanished into the shadows. Tomás exhaled, his shoulders slumping slightly. “That was the wrong end of the stick.” Quinn didn’t lower her weapon. “You’re not the only one who’s been playing games.” The station was silent except for the distant hum of the Tube, the rain still falling outside. Quinn’s mind raced, her instincts screaming at her to move, to run. But she couldn’t leave yet. Tomás stepped forward, his voice low. “We need to talk. About what happened to Morris.” Quinn’s jaw tightened. “I don’t have time for this.” Tomás’s gaze locked onto hers, his eyes warm but weary. “Then we do it now.” She didn’t argue. The Veil Market wasn’t just a place—it was a place where the past caught up with you. And Quinn wasn’t about to let it leave her behind.