The Last Veilborn

Chapter 1 - Eight Years of Blood

Eight years had passed since Warehouse 17 and I still didn't have a single answer that made sense.

I'd spent most of those years looking into the people connected to that mission. Some refused to talk, some claimed they knew nothing and others simply stopped responding when I started asking the wrong questions. I had lost count of how many doors I'd knocked on and how many times someone told me to leave the past alone.

I wasn't good at leaving things alone.

That morning, I was sitting at my desk, going through a report about illegally transferred Veil-related equipment. It was supposed to be a routine investigation nothing worth losing sleep over. My apartment was a mess, there were old case files stacked beside my laptop and I'd been drinking the same coffee for nearly an hour. I was about to close the report when I noticed the address.

Warehouse 17.

I checked it again, then opened the attached records. The warehouse had been inactive for years, but its property details were included in a recent equipment transfer request. There was no direct mention of the incident and I couldn't tell if the location was even relevant. Still, I wasn't going to ignore it.

I opened the Hunter Registry and searched for the old incident number.

The page loaded, then displayed the same message I'd seen countless times.

ACCESS DENIED — CLASSIFIED INCIDENT.

"Yeah, I know," I muttered.

I'd requested access to that report more times than I could remember. Every time, the answer was the same. The case was sealed, the records were restricted and apparently nobody thought I needed to know what happened to my own team.

I tried the secondary archive. Most of the information was unavailable, but the access history was still visible. I almost missed it because I was expecting another list of denied requests.

Someone had accessed the report three days ago.

I leaned closer to the screen.

That couldn't be right. The report had been sealed for years and I hadn't received any notice that its access status had changed. I checked the date again, then opened the details to see who had requested it.

The user's name was hidden, but the system had kept a credential reference.

I copied it and searched the Hunter Registry. No result. I tried the archived personnel database, thinking it might be an old account that hadn't been transferred properly.

Nothing.

"Come on, give me something." I said, tapping the desk with my fingers.

I searched the reference one more time, this time checking its status instead of the user's name. A notice appeared after a few seconds.

CREDENTIAL STATUS: PERMANENTLY ERASED.

I read it twice.

Permanently erased meant exactly that. The credential should no longer exist in the active system or be usable to access restricted files. It wasn't an account that had been forgotten or left inactive. Someone had removed it from the registry.

But the access history said it had been used three days ago.

I rubbed my face and looked back at the screen. Maybe the record was corrupted. Maybe someone had copied an old credential or found a way around the system. I didn't know yet and I wasn't going to pretend I did.

What I knew was that someone had opened the Warehouse 17 report.

I saved the access history and took screenshots of the credential status. Then I copied everything to an encrypted drive. I checked the files before closing them because I'd learned the hard way that information could disappear when someone decided it shouldn't be there.

My phone rang while I was saving the last copy.

It was someone from the department.

"Rhys, are you still working on the equipment transfer report? We need it before the afternoon review you were supposed to submit it yesterday." he asked, I could hear other people talking in the background.

"I'm finishing it."

"You said that last night."

"Then you know I'm still working on it."

He went quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Just make sure you're actually working on the assigned case I don't want another report delayed because you've decided to dig into Warehouse 17."

I stopped typing.

"I'm handling the equipment investigation."

"That's not what I asked."

I leaned back and looked at the screen. "Then ask someone else to finish the report if you don't trust me to do it."

"Don't make this difficult, Rhys you've been doing this for eight years."

"And I'll keep doing it until I get an answer."

He sighed, clearly done with the conversation. "Just submit your report."

The call ended.

I stared at my phone for a few seconds before putting it down. I knew people were tired of hearing about Warehouse 17. They wanted the case to stay closed because it was easier that way. I couldn't blame them for wanting to move on, but they weren't the ones who had walked into that building with five people and come out alone.

I finished the equipment report and submitted it. It took longer than it should have because I kept checking the access record to make sure it was still there. The credential reference hadn't changed, and the date was still the same.

Before leaving, I noticed the photograph beside my desk. It was an old picture of the team, taken before the mission. Riven was in the middle, probably making a joke nobody had asked for. Lyra looked annoyed, Kael wasn't even facing the camera properly, and Eryx had raised his hand to block the flash. Maelis was standing beside them.

I picked up the photograph, wiped a bit of dust from its frame, then put it back.

I didn't have time to sit there remembering them. Not when I finally had something worth checking.

I grabbed my jacket and the encrypted drive, then left the apartment. The streets were already busy, and traffic was getting worse near the main road. I waited for a gap between the cars before crossing, thinking about the credential number and who might still have access to something that should have been erased years ago.

I didn't know who had used it, and I wasn't going to make assumptions just yet. But someone had gone into the Warehouse 17 file three days ago, and that was enough reason to look into it.

I had spent eight years trying to find the people responsible for my team's deaths.

I wasn't about to ignore the first unusual thing that had happened in a long time.