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Chapter 506 115.4 - First Mission

The later reports mentioned the public mood more explicitly. Fear was taking hold, not just among those directly affected by the noises but throughout Veilcroft.

The city was becoming a place of shadows and whispers, where people no longer felt safe in their own homes. The escalation was clear, and it was only a matter of time before something snapped.

\'The rates of investment around the city are getting lower and lower, with the inner economy collapsing. With everything happening here, either the people will leave the city or the city will become something that no one visits.\'

The organization needed to send someone here.

\'That is why this place would only be accessible at the starting stages of the game, and at some point, Ethan would not come here as a student. It seems whatever has happened here really took hold.\'

Remembering the information from the game, I thought. However, because there were not any details shown, I could only infer that whatever was happening in this city plagued the city for a while.

It seems the organization also doesn\'t want this city to become a desolate place. As for their reasons, I don\'t know, nor do I need to, for now.

After combing through the initial reports, I turned my attention to the findings and results gathered by the other Adepts and Warden Shanks.

The deeper I delved into their work, the more the complexity of the mission became apparent.

The first Adept to arrive in Veilcroft was Adept Lira Hensley. Her reports reflected a methodical approach to mapping out the hotspots of disturbances, with detailed notes on the locations most affected by the whispers and noises. Lira had focused on understanding the geographical and psychological impact of the disturbances on the city\'s populace.

Despite her thorough efforts, she struggled to uncover anything concrete, growing increasingly frustrated as the situation worsened. After two weeks of investigation, it became clear that the complexity of the situation required additional resources.

That\'s when the organization sent Adept Mikhail Grayson to assist. Mikhail was a more seasoned operative known for his methodical and analytical mind. Unlike Lira, who had focused on the here and now, Mikhail\'s approach delved into the past.

He scoured historical records, local legends, and any available information that might hint at a deeper, underlying cause for the disturbances.

His reports mentioned old tales of Veilcroft being built on cursed ground and references to abandoned mines beneath the city, though he found little to connect these elements directly to the current events.

\'The abandoned mines and the cursed grounds, huh….Reminds me of a certain moment.\'

It was similar to what happened at that time, though I doubted it was the same this time.

With all this information in hand, I turned my attention to the map of Veilcroft displayed on my terminal screen.

The city was sprawling, with a mix of older, more established neighborhoods and newer developments. The layout was a complex web of streets, alleys, and districts, each with its own character and history.

I opened the file containing Lira Hensley\'s detailed notes on the hotspots of the disturbances. The map immediately lit up with a series of red markers, each one representing a location where residents had reported strange whispers, unsettling noises, and other inexplicable phenomena.

As I zoomed in, I could see that these hotspots were scattered across the city, though there were clear clusters in certain areas.

Lira had meticulously documented each location, noting the frequency of disturbances, the nature of the sounds reported, and any other relevant details. Some areas had been plagued by constant activity, while others had only sporadic incidents.

The map provided a visual representation of where the city\'s fear was most concentrated, and it was clear that some neighborhoods were suffering far more than others.

I studied the map carefully, cross-referencing it with Mikhail Grayson\'s findings. His work had focused on the historical context of Veilcroft, and while he hadn\'t found anything directly linking the city\'s past to the current events, his notes on old legends and the city\'s foundations hinted at deeper, more ancient influences.

I overlaid his notes onto the map to find any if there were connections between the historical sites and the current hotspots.

One thing that stood out immediately was the proximity of several hotspots to the old, abandoned mines that Mikhail had mentioned.

These mines were located beneath some of the oldest parts of Veilcroft, areas that had seen significant activity, according to Lira\'s reports.

It was possible that whatever was happening in the city now had its roots in these underground caverns, though the connection was still tenuous.

I zoomed in further on these areas, paying close attention to the clusters of disturbances. The pattern wasn\'t entirely random; there was a clear path of increasing intensity that seemed to radiate out from the vicinity of the old mines.

This suggested that something might be emanating from below, slowly spreading its influence across the city.

Another cluster of hotspots was located near areas mentioned in the local legends Mikhail had uncovered.

These stories spoke of Veilcroft being built on cursed ground, and while such tales were often exaggerated or entirely fictional, the consistency with which these locations were mentioned gave me pause.

It was as if these legends had a kernel of truth, something that had been buried over time but was now resurfacing.

\'Hmm….\' But, when things like these were mentioned, it was always better to hear from the local folks directly rather than just look at some documents.

\'Indeed, that is a better approach.\' I leaned back in my chair, the faint glow of the terminal screen casting a soft light across the room. The pieces were beginning to fall into place, but there was only so much I could glean from reports and maps. If I wanted to truly understand what was happening in Veilcroft, I needed to get out there and see it for myself.

\'Documents are one thing, but the feel of the city, the way people move, talk and react—those are the clues that can\'t be captured on paper.\'

I stood up, the chair scraping softly against the floor as I pushed it back. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, then headed towards the command center where Shanks was likely going over the latest updates. I needed to inform him of my intentions to leave the base and start my own investigation.

As I entered the room, Shanks looked up from a set of monitors, his expression as unreadable as ever.

"I\'m heading out," I said, keeping my tone professional. "I want to get a closer look at the city, see if I can pick up on anything we might have missed."

Shanks studied me for a moment before nodding. "That\'s fine. Just make sure to keep your communicator on. If anything comes up, we need to be able to reach you immediately."

"Understood." I turned to leave but then paused, glancing back at him.

\'Let\'s not come too arrogant at the start.\' With that thought, I asked. "Any particular areas you\'d suggest I start with?" n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

"The southern districts," Shanks replied without missing a beat. "That\'s where the disturbances have been most frequent in the last few days. And keep an eye out for anything unusual—this situation has a habit of throwing curveballs when you least expect them."

I gave a brief nod and made my way out of the command center, the doors sliding shut behind me with a soft hiss. The corridor was quiet, and the hum of activity from the adjacent rooms was barely audible as I headed toward the exit.

When I reached the main entrance, the same woman who had initially greeted me was there, her expression still professional and composed. She gave me a brief nod, acknowledging my departure.

I returned the nod, keeping my own expression neutral. "I\'ll be back later," I said, more as a courtesy than a necessity. She merely acknowledged with a slight inclination of her head before returning to her work.

Stepping outside, I was greeted by the bright light of noon. The city of Veilcroft stretched out before me, bathed in the stark light of the midday sun. The shadows, though short, seemed somehow heavier, as if they were waiting for the night to reclaim them. I took a deep breath, inhaling the city\'s unique scent—a mix of urban grit and something older, more primal, that lingered just beneath the surface.

\'First, it is better to see what\'s really going on out here,\' I thought, adjusting my jacket as I started walking.

The southern districts were my first destination, as Shanks had suggested. But before diving straight into the hotspots of disturbances, I decided to take a more measured approach.

Veilcroft was a city of many faces, and the best way to understand its current state was to listen to the people who lived there. I needed to get a feel for the mood of the locals, hear their stories, and see how they reacted to the world around them. Often, it was the subtleties of human behavior that revealed the most.

\'Is it the same with the driver or not? That is what it is important.\' As I walked through the city streets, I took my time, observing everything around me. The architecture was a mix of old and new, with some buildings showing signs of wear and neglect while others stood as modern contrasts. The streets were moderately busy, but there was an undercurrent of tension in the air.

People moved with purpose, but there was a guardedness in their expressions, a wariness that hadn\'t been there a few months ago—if the reports were to be believed.

I stopped at a small café near the edge of the southern district, choosing a spot where I could easily overhear conversations while blending into the background. The café was modest, with a few patrons scattered around, quietly sipping their drinks or reading. I ordered a coffee and sat near the window, the sunlight filtering through the glass and casting soft patterns on the table.

As I sat there, I listened. The conversations around me were mostly mundane—discussions about work, family, and the usual day-to-day concerns. But every now and then, a hushed whisper would carry over from a neighboring table, a mention of the strange happenings in the city or a reference to someone who had moved away recently.

"I heard them again last night," a woman at the next table said in a low voice, her tone tinged with fear. "Those whispers… It\'s like they\'re coming from inside the walls."

Her companion, a man with tired eyes, nodded grimly. "I know what you mean. My neighbor packed up and left this morning. Didn\'t even say goodbye, just up and gone. Can\'t say I blame him."

Another group, seated a little further away, was discussing the lack of response from the authorities. "The cops don\'t know what to do about it," one man said, shaking his head. "They\'re trying to keep it quiet, but everyone knows they\'re just as scared as the rest of us."

The more I listened, the clearer it became that the fear was real and pervasive.

The locals weren\'t just frightened by the strange occurrences—they were starting to lose faith in their city, in the very foundation of their lives here.

After finishing my coffee, I left the café and continued to walk through the southern districts. The further I ventured, the more the atmosphere shifted. The buildings here were older, some of them crumbling at the edges, with narrow alleyways that seemed to twist and turn in unnatural ways. The shadows in this part of the city felt different—deeper, more oppressive, even in the bright light of day.

I stopped at a small market, where vendors were selling their goods with forced smiles and quick glances over their shoulders. Here, too, the conversations were filled with the same unease I had heard at the café. People spoke of sleepless nights, strange sounds that seemed to follow them, and a sense of being watched even in the safety of their own homes.

As I moved through the market, I struck up small conversations with the vendors, asking about their business and the state of the city. Most were hesitant to talk about the disturbances directly, but their expressions and body language spoke volumes. The fear was palpable, and it was clear that it was affecting every aspect of life here.

After gathering as much information as I could, I decided to head deeper into the heart of the southern districts, toward one of the hotspots that Lira had marked on the map.

It was time to see for myself what was happening in these places, to feel the energy of the city firsthand, and to look for any clues that might have been overlooked.