The industrial district had the kind of silence that felt wrong. It wasn’t peaceful—it was waiting. The crumbling buildings, rusted machinery, and weeds crawling through the cracks in the pavement all whispered of a place forgotten by the world. But it wasn’t forgotten, not entirely. The faint glow of streetlights and distant machinery hummed in the air, making me think we weren’t as alone as we should’ve been.

  My flashlight skimmed over the cracked asphalt as we approached the warehouse. Evelyn was ahead of me, her knife glinting faintly in her hand. I could see the tension in her posture, the way she moved—sharp, deliberate, like she was expecting something to jump out at us any second. Carter and Luca trailed behind, their footsteps soft but steady.

  “Tell me again why this place looks like it’s been abandoned for a century?” I muttered, my voice low but cutting through the silence.

  Evelyn didn’t slow down. “Greyford’s glory days ended twenty years ago,” she said, her tone clipped. “The factories shut down. The Keepers use places like this because no one pays attention to them.”

  “Convenient,” I said, keeping my flashlight moving.

  “Isn’t it?” Carter added from behind, his voice light with a smirk I didn’t have to see to know was there.

  The warehouse loomed ahead, its shattered windows casting eerie patterns of light and shadow. I stopped at the edge of the loading dock, crouching low as I scanned the area. The flashlight beam cut across the broken glass and splintered wood of the door.

  “Looks quiet,” I murmured.

  “Too quiet,” Evelyn said, her voice barely above a whisper.

  Carter chuckled softly. “You detectives always say that, don’t you? ‘Too quiet.’ It’s like you’re hoping for something bad to happen.”

  I ignored him, my flashlight catching a faint glow near the roof. My stomach tightened. “Security camera,” I said, nodding toward it. “High angle. Someone’s watching.”

  Luca moved up beside me, pulling a slim device from his backpack. “Not for long.”

  I watched as he worked, his fingers moving quickly over the controls. The camera’s faint red light flickered, then died.

  “Impressive,” I said grudgingly.

  Luca flashed me a grin. “I have my moments.”

  “Don’t get cocky,” Evelyn said, stepping past him toward the door. “It’s one camera. There could be more.”

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  “Always a ray of sunshine,” Carter muttered, shaking his head.

  The group slipped inside, our footsteps barely making a sound against the concrete floor. The air was heavy, thick with the smell of rust and mildew. My flashlight swept over the walls, catching faded graffiti and broken pipes.

  “Spread out,” Evelyn said, her voice quiet but firm. “Look for anything out of place.”

  I moved toward the far wall, my beam landing on a stack of crates. They were large, the wood rough and splintered, but what caught my attention were the symbols carved deep into their surfaces. They were intricate, deliberate, and completely foreign.

  “Hey,” I called, my voice low but carrying. “Come take a look at this.”

  Evelyn was the first to join me, crouching beside the crates and running her fingers over the carvings. Carter stayed back, his arms crossed as he leaned against a rusted pipe.

  “What is it?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

  “Keeper markings,” Evelyn said finally.

  I frowned. “And that means what, exactly?”

  “They’re codes,” she said. “Used to identify what’s inside.”

  “And what’s inside?” Carter asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Evelyn stood, her knife still in her hand. “Could be anything. Documents, weapons, fragments of the Vault…”

  “Always so dramatic,” Carter muttered.

  I crouched again, running my flashlight over the floor near the crates. The faint outline of a boot print caught my eye, the edges sharp with fresh dirt.

  “Someone’s been here recently,” I said, straightening.

  Evelyn nodded, her green eyes scanning the room. “They’re not far.”

  “Great,” Carter said with a humorless laugh. “Let’s just hope they don’t come back while we’re playing detectives.”

  As we moved deeper into the warehouse, I fell behind, pulling out my phone. The others didn’t notice—or didn’t care. I hesitated for a second, staring at the screen. Jack’s number was still at the top of my call log, like it was waiting for me.

  I hit dial.

  The line rang twice before his familiar voice came through. “Caleb? That you?”

  “It’s me,” I said quietly, my voice almost drowned out by the weight in my chest.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Jack’s voice was sharp, cutting through the haze of exhaustion in my head. “You vanish for days, and now you’re calling me like nothing happened?”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” I said, my throat tightening. “Look, Jack, I can’t explain everything right now, but I need you to trust me.”

  Jack let out a heavy sigh, the sound crackling through the line. “You know I trust you. But you’re in deep, aren’t you?”

  “Deeper than I’d like,” I admitted, the words falling out before I could stop them.

  Jack’s tone softened. “You need help?”

  “Not yet,” I said quickly. “But I might soon. Just… keep your ears open. If anything weird comes across your desk, let me know.”

  “Got it,” Jack said after a moment. Then, softer, “Be careful, Caleb. You always think you can handle everything alone. Don’t let that get you killed.”

  I clenched my jaw, the weight of his words pressing against my chest. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Sure you will,” Jack said, but the doubt in his voice was unmistakable.

  I hung up, slipping the phone back into my pocket. My pulse was racing, but I forced myself to take a slow breath. When I turned, Luca was watching me from a few feet away, his gray eyes sharp with curiosity.

  “Everything alright?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady.

  “Yeah,” I said, my tone clipped. “Let’s keep moving.”

  Luca didn’t press, but I could feel his gaze linger as I walked past him, my flashlight cutting through the darkness.