The rain in Edith felt heavier than usual, a cold sheet of grey blurring the neon signs of the Old Town. Inside the Montmart bistro, Van Arkride leaned back in his leather chair, the smell of bitter coffee and his favorite sugary donuts filling the air. He was a Spriggan—the guy people called when the police couldn't help and the Guild wouldn't dare.
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Van didn’t answer immediately. He reached for a small, ornate device on the table—the Xipha. A faint blue glow pulsed from it, and a voice like silver chimes echoed in his mind. “Van, the resonance is peaking. This isn’t just a ghost story.”
"Stay behind me," Van muttered, his eyes flashing with an unnatural light. He drew his stun-calibre, the blade sparking with blue energy. "If someone’s using the Crimson Sin to play god in this city, they’re about to find out how expensive my overtime rates are."
The hunt for the truth behind the Crimson Sin had begun, and in the shadows of Edith, the line between hero and monster was about to disappear. If you’d like to explore a different part of the plot: