Fog blanketed the factory district of Arkwright like a shroud, smothering the faint gaslight from the streetlamps. The air was heavy with the smell of soot and damp metal, and the distant churning of machines gave the impression of a restless beast slumbering nearby.
Elias Thorne pulled his coat tighter and adjusted the brass monocle resting in his pocket. He stood before a towering, dilapidated warehouse. Its iron doors hung askew, their rusted hinges barely holding the structure together.
The police had already done their job—or at least the bare minimum. The crime scene was stripped of its most damning evidence, the body removed hours ago. All that remained were the shadows of violence and Elias's ability to piece them together.
"Another murder," he muttered under his breath, lighting a cigarette. The flame briefly illuminated his sharp features before he stepped into the darkness.
The warehouse swallowed him whole, the air thick with mildew and something faintly metallic. Elias pulled out a small lantern from his bag, its warm light barely pushing back the gloom.
The floor was scuffed with footprints, some overlapping. The police officers had trampled through in their haste to retrieve the corpse. Elias sighed, kneeling to examine the marks.
"Boots," he murmured, his fingers tracing the indentations in the dust. "Large. Worn edges. Heavy stride. The officers, likely."
His gaze moved to another set—smaller, lighter, and leading toward the center of the room.
"The victim," he guessed, rising to follow the trail.
The footprints stopped abruptly near a large, dark stain on the concrete floor. Elias crouched, his lantern revealing the jagged edge of a faint circle drawn in blood. The police had tried to scrub it away, but the outline remained, faint and ominous.
He exhaled slowly, letting his mind replay the scene as he'd been told. The victim—a factory worker—had been found sprawled at the center of the circle, their body twisted unnaturally.
Elias touched the edge of the bloodstain. It was dry, flaking under his fingers.
"The blood wasn't all theirs," he said softly, glancing at the smudged symbols around the circle. They were jagged, uneven, and unfamiliar, yet they stirred something deep in his mind.
He reached into his pocket and withdrew the brass monocle.
The monocle was a relic from his father, left to him in a sealed box with no explanation. Elias had long dismissed it as a keepsake until the first time he used it on a case. Though he didn't understand why or how, he quickly realized that when he put on the monocle, he could see details he wouldn't otherwise notice—things others would miss entirely. Patterns in dust, faint marks in blood, and sometimes… things that defied explanation.
He hesitated, his fingers brushing the cold brass. Every time he used it, there was a sense of unease, as if he were peering into a world that didn't want to be seen.
Finally, he raised it to his eye.
The moment the monocle settled in place, the room transformed. The faint lines of the circle flared to life, glowing a dark violet. The symbols danced and pulsed, almost as if alive.
Elias stood still, scanning the space. The air shimmered with something unnatural—something wrong. His heartbeat quickened.
"The ritual," he whispered, stepping closer. "It wasn't finished."
His gaze flicked to the scuffs and scratches in the bloodstain. A struggle had occurred here—desperate and chaotic. The victim had fought, but not with another person.
Elias traced the faint lines of claw marks on the floor. The grooves were deep, too deep for human hands.
"What did you see in your final moments?" Elias murmured, his voice barely audible.
A low hum filled the air, pulling him from his thoughts. He froze, his monocle revealing faint ripples in the fabric of reality around the circle.
Something lingered here.
The hum grew louder, vibrating through the warehouse. The circle flared brighter, the symbols pulsing in time with the sound.
Elias took a step back, his hand instinctively going to the revolver at his side. "This isn't normal," he muttered.
A sharp crack split the air, like glass shattering. A tear appeared above the circle, jagged and dark, leaking tendrils of shadow.
Elias's breath caught. The rift widened, the air growing colder with each passing second. From its depths, something emerged—a creature of smoke and violet light.
It had no fixed form, its body shifting and writhing like a mass of living shadows. Two pinpricks of light served as its eyes, and they locked onto Elias.
"What in Erevas…" he muttered, drawing his revolver.
The creature lunged, its tendrils slamming into the ground where Elias had stood a moment before. He dove to the side, the impact shaking the floor and scattering debris.
Elias scrambled for cover behind a stack of crates, his mind racing. Ordinary weapons wouldn't work on whatever this was.
The monocle burned against his skin, and he risked another glance through it. The creature's form shimmered, revealing veins of glowing energy coursing through its body.
"Vulnerable," Elias muttered, aiming his revolver at the largest cluster.
He fired.
The bullet struck true, disrupting the creature's form. It let out a high-pitched screech, its body flickering. But it wasn't done.
The creature reformed, its tendrils lashing out wildly. Elias barely avoided the strike, rolling to the side as splinters flew from the crate behind him.
"Not enough," he muttered, clutching the monocle tightly.
The temperature dropped further, frost forming on the edges of the crates. The creature lunged again, faster this time.
"Down!"
A commanding voice cut through the chaos.
Elias turned to see a woman entering the warehouse. She was tall, her long coat lined with faintly glowing runes that pulsed with energy. Her hand crackled with dark light as she extended it toward the creature.
"Shadow Bind!"
Tendrils of black energy erupted from the ground, wrapping around the creature and holding it in place. It thrashed, but the bindings held firm.
The woman moved with precision, drawing a dagger from her belt. She sliced across her palm, letting blood drip onto the ground. The runes on her coat flared brighter.
"By the Light of the Veil, I banish you!" she intoned, her voice resonating with power.
A burst of energy erupted from her, engulfing the creature. It shrieked one final time before collapsing into itself, disappearing into the void. The rift sealed shut with a soft pop, leaving only silence.
Elias rose slowly, his revolver still in hand. "Who the hell are you?"
The woman turned to him, her green eyes sharp and assessing. "Inquisitor Adrienne Vaughn, Sanctified Lanterns. And you?"
"Private investigator," Elias said, lowering his gun slightly. "Elias Thorne. What the hell was that thing?"
Adrienne's gaze flicked to the monocle in his hand. "You're Veilborn, aren't you?"
Elias frowned. "Veilborn?"
Adrienne sighed. "I'll explain later. For now, let's get out of here before more of them show up. You've stumbled into something far bigger than you realize, detective."
Elias hesitated, his mind racing. He didn't trust her, but after what he'd seen, he couldn't deny that the world he thought he knew was far darker than he imagined.
"Fine," he said. "But you'd better start explaining soon."
Adrienne smirked faintly. "Don't worry, detective. You're about to learn just how deep the shadows go."
As they stepped into the foggy streets, Elias felt the weight of the warehouse lingering behind him. Whatever had been awakened in that place wasn't gone.