Chapter 7: Put the Pieces Together

The ride back to the Ninth Division's headquarters was quiet. Rain lashed against the windows of the unmarked black sedan as Yahya and Adam sat in silence, weighed down by the morning's revelations. Yahya flicked the remains of his cigarette out of the window, glancing at Adam, whose usual calm demeanour was starting to show signs of strain.

"We've seen worse," Yahya muttered, more to break the silence than anything else.

Adam remained focused on the rain-slicked streets of Cinderfire, shrouded in its familiar fog. "I don't like this one, Yahya. Something feels off. The cult, the belt, the possession claim—it's all too convenient."

Yahya grunted in agreement. None of the pieces were adding up, but that was Cinderfire for you. This wasn't just another case of grief-driven madness. Darker forces were at play, forces Yahya had grown uncomfortably familiar with since the Hollowing.

By the time they reached the precinct, Yahya was already forming a strategy. They had the belt, the autopsy, and Simon's frantic testimony—enough to dig deeper.

"Get Jusof in the briefing room," Yahya said, stepping out of the car. "We need his take on those runes."

Adam nodded, heading inside as Yahya stood in the rain, feeling the cold seep into his bones. The Ninth Division's headquarters loomed before him, an old, decaying building that seemed to groan under the weight of the city's misery. The hallways were dim and narrow, the flickering lights adding to the ever-present sense of unease.

When Yahya entered the briefing room, Jusof and Ferris were already there. The contrast between them was stark—Ferris, as always, silent and brooding in the corner, while Jusof, the team's expert on the arcane, paced restlessly, clearly excited about the potential significance of the runes.

Adam arrived a few moments later, setting the belt on the table. "This is it. The belt Evelyn Thorne used…"

He trailed off, the grim weight of the words hanging in the air.

Jusof leaned in immediately, his eyes gleaming with intellectual curiosity. His fingers brushed the worn leather as he inspected the intricate glyphs etched into the buckle. "Interesting," he murmured, almost to himself. "I've seen markings like these before. Whoever did this knew enough to be dangerous."

Yahya lit another cigarette. "What do the runes mean?"

Jusof straightened, his excitement palpable. "These aren't just decorative. They're meant to channel energy—power—maybe even control. But they're incomplete. Whoever carved these didn't finish the work. This looks like the handiwork of someone dabbling in ancient magic."

"An amateur?" Adam asked skeptically. "Doing this much damage?"

Jusof nodded. "It's like giving a child a loaded gun. They might not know exactly what they're doing, but the consequences can be catastrophic."

Yahya's eyes narrowed. "You're saying the belt might have controlled Evelyn? Made her hurt herself?"

Jusof's brow furrowed in concentration. "It's possible. If she was already drowning in guilt and grief, this belt could have pushed her further—manipulated her emotions, made her believe she deserved punishment."

Yahya exhaled a long stream of smoke, his mind racing. The cult, the runes, Evelyn's guilt—it all pointed to something far more sinister than a simple case of possession. The Circle of Sorn had preyed on Evelyn's vulnerability. But why?

"We need to find out more about this cult," Yahya said, stubbing out his cigarette. "The Circle of Sorn's been quiet for a while, but it looks like they've resurfaced."

Ferris finally spoke, his voice low and gravelly. "The Circle doesn't act without purpose. They don't just mess with people for fun. They're after something."

Yahya nodded. That much was clear. The Hollowing had left cracks in reality, and groups like the Circle of Sorn thrived on exploiting them. But what was their goal?

"Jusof," Yahya said, turning back to the rune expert. "Can you finish deciphering these symbols? See if there's any clue as to what they were trying to do?"

Jusof nodded, already diving back into the markings. "It'll take time, but I'll get it. This isn't your average curse. Whoever did this was meddling with some old, dangerous practices."

Yahya glanced at Adam. "Still think this was just grief and guilt?"

Adam shook his head. "No. Someone set Evelyn up. They tore her apart, piece by piece."

The room fell into silence as the weight of what they were dealing with settled over them. The Circle of Sorn hadn't just preyed on Evelyn—they had manipulated her, using her grief and guilt as weapons against her.

"Who's next?" Ferris asked, breaking the silence. His question wasn't rhetorical; it was the harsh reality of their line of work.

Yahya leaned back in his chair, his gaze dark. "We follow the trail. Find anyone else connected to this cult. If they did this to Evelyn, they've done it before."

At that moment, an officer entered the room, handing Yahya a file. "New lead on Suraya," the officer said. "He was spotted near the old docks."

Yahya's gaze sharpened. Suraya—the man they'd been hunting—was suddenly within reach. And now, with the Circle of Sorn in the picture, Yahya couldn't shake the feeling that Suraya was more than just a fugitive. Was he connected to the cult? Or was there something else driving him?

"Let's go," Yahya said, grabbing his coat. Adam was already moving, anticipation tightening his features. As they left, Jusof stayed behind to work on the runes, but Yahya knew they were venturing into dangerous waters.

The city loomed as they stepped outside, swallowed by the endless rain and fog. The whispers of the Hollowing echoed in Yahya's mind, a constant reminder of the fractures in reality that the Circle of Sorn sought to exploit.

"If we catch Suraya," Yahya said, lighting another cigarette, "maybe we'll start putting the rest of the pieces together."

Adam nodded, his gaze fixed on the rain-soaked streets. "Let's hope we're not too late."

The wind howled as they drove toward the docks, the shadows of Cinderfire closing in around them. Whatever secrets Suraya held, whatever dark ties he had to the Circle of Sorn—they were about to find out. And in a city like Cinderfire, where the dead didn't always rest, the truth was rarely something you wanted to uncover.