A flight touched down in the heart of Sonalia's bustling city center on 28th of march. As the plane's doors opened, a young man, around 25, stepped out with an aura of quiet confidence. His light brown hair cascaded in soft waves, framing his face, while his deep brown eyes shimmered with curiosity as if they were always observing, always searching. His long nose gave his features a distinguished, almost regal quality, and a simple, genuine smile played at the corners of his lips—one that suggested contentment with the world, but also hinted at secrets only he knew.
He hailed a taxi and slipped inside. As the car merged into the chaotic flow of traffic, the driver glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "Are you a detective? Never seen you around. Where are you from?"
The young man's gaze remained distant, cold, as he replied, "I'm from the Rava faction. And I go by the name Wiz." A heavy silence settled between them. The driver, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror, seemed to be mulling something over. After a few seconds, he spoke.
"You're that rookie detective I saw on the news, aren't you?"
Wiz nodded, his voice steady. "Yes, I was in the news for a case."
The driver let out a low whistle. "Never thought you'd come to Soralia, not after making a name for yourself back in Rava."
Wiz's expression remained unchanged as he replied, "After all, this is the capital of one of the five factions."
The driver's tone shifted slightly, an edge creeping into his words. "You know that doesn't really matter, right? Even if there is a new division between state and country called faction"
Wiz's eyes narrowed slightly, understanding the unspoken challenge in the driver's voice. He answered, "Yes, and this is also the place with the highest crime rates."
The driver's eyes darkened for a moment, but then his expression softened, his voice lowering to a more serious tone. "I know many detectives who came here just like you. Don't push yourself too far. Know your limits."There was a blaze of something unreadable in the driver's eyes, but just as quickly, the warmth returned. The driver's face lightened again. "We've reached the agency. The fare's 20 nor."
Wiz took out his purse and handed the driver exactly 20 nor. As he stepped out of the cab, he paused and asked, "Your good name, sir?"
The driver grinned, his eyes twinkling with a knowing gleam. "Oh, I go by the name Igris."
Wiz froze for a moment, the shock evident on his face as the taxi rolled away, blending back into the chaotic city traffic. I never thought I'd get a ride from a retired detective legend on my first day here.
Behind the counter sat a woman with striking yellow hair and bright, inquisitive eyes. I showed her my detective license, and without a word, she handed me a form to check for any errors. The form read:
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Real Name: Asher Winters
Code Name: Wiz
Ability: Perception
(A brief summary of his appearance)
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After scanning it quickly to ensure everything was accurate, I handed the form back to her. She took it with a deliberate motion, then covered my real name with a strip of black tape. "Go to the case lobby for case information," she said, her tone businesslike. "And here's the address for where you'll be staying."