THE RETURN OF BREBOS

The wind howled as Enforcer Gean stepped onto the cracked stone streets of Brebos. Dust swirled around his boots, and the faint scent of something old and forgotten filled the air. The city had been abandoned for longer than anyone could remember. Buildings stood like silent ghosts, their empty windows watching.

He pulled his cloak tighter around his shoulders. The air felt wrong—heavy, like the city itself was holding its breath.

Lora stepped up beside him, her sharp eyes scanning the empty streets. She was tall and lean, her dark uniform blending into the shadows of the ruined buildings. "It's too quiet," she muttered.

Gean nodded. "I don't like it."

The Circle had sent them to investigate. Brebos had once been a thriving city, but one day, without warning, all communication stopped. Messengers sent to check on the town never returned. Over time, it became a forbidden place, a name spoken only in hushed whispers. No one knew what had happened, and no one dared to find out.

Until now.

"We should start at the center," Lora said, adjusting the weapon at her side. "That's where the last message came from."

Gean hesitated. The last message from Brebos had been brief—just three words written in shaky handwriting: "Stay away. Please."

That had been 2,500 years ago.

He exhaled, shaking off the unease creeping up his spine. "Let's move."

The two Enforcers walked down the empty streets. The city was eerily untouched. Doors stood open, furniture remained in place, as if the people had simply vanished in the middle of their lives. A wooden cart sat in the middle of the road, its wheels broken. Inside, dried-out food rested on plates, untouched for centuries.

Lora bent down and ran her fingers over a thick layer of dust on the ground. "No footprints," she said. "Not even animals."

That was strange. Even in dead places, something always moved—rats, insects, scavengers. But here? Nothing.

Gean felt his pulse quicken. "Let's keep going."

They moved deeper into the city, past abandoned market stalls and crumbling statues. The silence pressed against them. It wasn't just the absence of sound; it was the weight of it, as if the city itself didn't want them there.

Ahead, the tower of Brebos loomed. Once, it had been the heart of the city, a place where leaders met to discuss laws and settle disputes. Now, it was covered in twisting black vines, its stone walls cracked and crumbling. The massive wooden doors hung slightly open.

Lora studied them. "It looks like someone forced their way in."

Gean glanced around. "But who? No one's been here for thousands of years."

Lora didn't answer. Instead, she stepped forward and pushed the door open wider. The wood groaned loudly, shattering the silence. A gust of stale air rushed past them, carrying the scent of dust and something else—something rotten.

Gean's hand went to his weapon. "Be ready."

They stepped inside.

The air was thick, heavy with the weight of time. Dust-covered tables stood untouched. Scrolls and papers were scattered across the floor. A massive chandelier had crashed down, its metal frame twisted. At the far end of the room, a stone staircase led upward, disappearing into darkness.

Lora knelt and picked up a piece of parchment. It was old, the edges crumbling at her touch. The ink was dark red.

She read the words aloud. "They are still here."

A chill ran down Gean's spine. "Who?"

Before Lora could answer, a sound echoed from above.

A soft, dragging sound.

Both Enforcers froze. Their hands went to their weapons.

Gean whispered, "Did you hear that?"

Lora nodded. She pointed toward the stairs.

Slowly, carefully, they moved forward. Each step creaked beneath their weight. The sound above them stopped.

Gean swallowed. The air smelled worse now—like damp stone and decay. As they reached the top of the staircase, they found themselves in a long hallway lined with doorways. Some doors were ajar; others were broken.

Lora stepped into the first room. "It's a study," she whispered.

Gean followed. Inside, bookshelves lined the walls, their contents covered in dust. A large desk sat in the center, papers strewn across it. In the corner, an old chair faced the window. It was turned away from them.

Gean's heart pounded. Something about that chair…

Lora moved toward it. "Careful," Gean warned.

She reached out and gently turned the chair.

A body sat in it.

Or at least, what was left of one.