[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/3nnWZtx.jpeg[/img][/center]

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[sub][center][i]"The storm is upon us."[/i][/center][/sub]

[center][color=#812442]Time/Day:[/color] Sunday May 5th, 2025 - Morning[/center]
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As the blood settles, the sun rises....

A pale gold creeps over shattered glass and smeared pavement, illuminating a city as it wakes. Humans walk the streets with coffee in hand and eyes forward, stepping around bloodstains as if they’re simple puddles of water. Laughter drifts from open windows. Cars idle. Life insists on continuing. No one seems to notice

Behind the bar, bodies still lie where they fell.

The air is thick with the coppery rot of spilled blood. Whatever happened in the night has already begun to slip into rumor, filed away in the human mind as nothing more than a bad dream or a scene from a horror movie they’ll half-recall later and laugh about.

But others know better. The Lycans will remember. 

An open alert crackles through hidden channels.

[center][b][i]To all Wardens: investigate the disturbance at the venue.
Assess the damage.
Contain what remains.
Dispatch a cleanup crew. No witnesses. No traces.[/i][/b][/center]

And beneath the surface and the carnage, the fragile illusion of order...the gears of the underworld begin to turn.

[b]The Black Market has opened.[/b]

Tucked away behind glamour and misdirection, the Mirage Market breathes back to life. Its location is never written, never spoken aloud—only whispered, passed mouth to ear in alleyways and shadows. New items are already circulating. Relics, vials, tools that should not exist. Each whisper slithers deeper into the back streets, calling to the desperate, the dangerous, and the damned.

The Veil still stands.

But it’s thinning.

And whatever bled last night may only be the beginning.
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