Run: 2026-02-25-01KJ9583605Y92FNWH423F1NHJ

The ancient manor stood silhouetted against a bruised twilight sky, its stone walls whispering forgotten tales of long past nights. Inside the grand library, Sir Reginald lay sprawled beside an overturned emerald inkwell, his eyes staring blankly towards the dusty ceiling. A single, pristine white orchid rested unnaturally upon his chest, an odd and striking detail in this scene of sudden violence. The air hung heavy and still, carrying the faint, lingering scent of expensive brandy mixed with something metallic and distinctly unpleasant. Detective Miles Corbin arrived shortly thereafter, his keen eyes scanning the room, absorbing every detail with practiced, weary deliberation. He stepped carefully over scattered papers and broken glass, noting the peculiar quietness that permeated the otherwise opulent study. A half-finished letter lay on the desk before him, its words trailing off midsentence, hinting at a desperate, hastily interrupted communication. Near the fireplace, a woman's exquisite silk glove lay abandoned, a stark contrast to the grim brutality discovered just moments ago. The clock on the mantelpiece resumed its ticking loudly, the only sound breaking the oppressive silence, marking another moment in time.