The Tower Record: Civilian & Commercial District, present day.
The elevator ride down from the penthouse was silent, broken only by the soft hum of machinery. The lift dropped them to the 30th floor, Asa’s home turf, where the air thinned and carried a metallic bite from overworked filters.
The lower district buzzed with haggling vendors and hunched figures, oxygen scarce enough to make Asa’s chest tighten. He navigated the chaos with ease, bartering roughly for scraps of info—a name, a sighting—while Selene watched, her elegance out of place among the patched stalls.
Where they searched for leads on a missing person case, Asa’s bluntness got them what they needed.
This is his language—grit and gut, she thought.
The deeper they went, the harder it was to breathe. The oxygen levels were noticeably lower, the air systems barely functioning. Selene coughed lightly, adjusting the scarf around her neck.
Another one gone—too many to be coincidence, she thought, her heels clicking against the worn metal floor. The Syndicate’s hands are dirty, but there’s something else pulling strings here.
Asa and Selene prowled the streets, a tangle of narrow walkways and flickering holo-ads, hunting for clues in a missing person case that reeked of slavery.
The air buzzed with the hum of overtaxed vents, and Asa’s sharp eyes scanned every face, every shadow, while Selene kept her focus razor-edged, piecing together fragments of rumors and half-heard whispers.
Near the market district, a small crowd had gathered around a man in flowing robes, arms raised, preaching to a small crowd. “Paradise awaits on this earth!” he bellowed. “The stars guide us to salvation, a haven hidden among us!”
His voice rising above the murmur of the street. "You must seek it! The cosmos has chosen us!"
Asa glanced at the man, his brow furrowing. "That’s a Cosmos preacher."
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Selene paused, her brow furrowing as the words sank in. “Paradise on earth,” she muttered to Asa, her voice low. “Sounds like a lure. What if this religion’s tangled up in the slavery—promising hope, snatching bodies?”
"You think they’re behind the disappearances?" Asa shrugged, skeptical but listening.
“Don’t you?”
"Doubt it," Asa muttered. "Cosmos Religion has always kept in line with Tower Guard. They don’t make trouble."
"But they never cross the Syndicate either," Selene added, eyes narrowing.
The preacher’s voice droned on, filled with fervor, promising salvation in a place no one had ever seen. Selene shook his head. Sounds like a fantasy to me.
Watching the preacher’s fervent gestures. A cult could mask trafficking easy—feed the desperate a dream, then chain them.
She tugged Asa’s sleeve. “Come on. Cosmos Cathedral’s not far. Let’s poke the hive.” He nodded, falling in step as they headed for the towering spire of stained glass and steel that loomed over the district, its celestial motifs glowing faintly in the dim light, untouched by the filth of the lower districts. It felt too clean, too perfect, standing between the grim realities of the Tower and the desperate promises of its followers.
Inside, the air was cool and heavy with incense. Mother Priestess, a tall woman with silver hair and a serene smile, greeted them, her robes shimmering like starlight. She opened her arms and pulled Selene into a warm hug. “Selene, my dear,” she said, voice soft. “Last time I saw you, you were a little girl clinging to your father’s hand.”
Selene stiffened slightly, caught off guard. She remembers me? That’s a lifetime ago—before Dad passed away, she thought, a flicker of unease stirring.
"What brings you to our sacred hall?" she asked.
Selene didn’t hesitate. "We’re investigating missing persons. We’ve heard whispers of people being taken, rumors of a 'promised land.' And some say your people are involved."
Mother Priestess didn’t react. Her fingers brushed the beads around her wrist as she studied them. "Paradise is real, child. But the path is not paved with chains. We do not steal or enslave."
Selene watched her carefully. That’s not a denial, just a redirection. He exhaled slowly. Why do I feel like she knows more than she’s saying?
After a moment, the Priestess spoke again. "If you seek answers, perhaps you should visit our praying hall."
Mother’s answers were vague, her eyes too knowing. As they turned to leave, she called after them, “Try the slum sector, child. Answers hide where the light’s dimmest.”
She’s nudging us—why? Selene thought, stepping back into the street with Asa. Either she’s helping, or she’s covering tracks.
The slum sector. The worst place to go looking for trouble… and exactly where we need to be—slum sector it is.
The cathedral’s bells tolled behind them, a haunting echo to her suspicions.