"So, where did you last see your partner?" Jack asked.

  Barnaby's face was grim. "Her room. Mirella stayed in a motel on the waterfront. Near the old warehouses. We split up. I'm investigating the Lower End Trade District. She was investigating the Dock District."

  Jack nodded. "Lead the way there, then."

  ...

  They moved through the bustling Lonestone streets. It was early afternoon. The city was teeming with life. Various sound could be heard along the way. The constant hum of steam engines. The factory whistles. The carriage wheels...

  Barnaby led them down narrow, grimy alleys until they reached a dilapidated motel. Its paint was peeling like sunburnt skin. The air was heavy with the smell of the sea and the industrial smoke.

  Inside, the lobby was quite deserted. Barnaby spoke to a skeletal old man dozing behind the counter, roused him with a sharp tap. The old man mumbled about something unclear. Handing a key with his trembling fingers.

  Room 07 was where Barnaby's partner stayed. According to him, it stayed exactly as when Mirella had left it.

  As they walked in, Jack looked around. A small, sparse space with a single bed. A rickety table. And a cracked mirror.

  Barnaby picked up a small leather-bound sketchbook, and a worn-out paint-stained scarf. "These are probably the only objects she left behind."

  Jack took the items. He held them out to Rune, who floated silently by his shoulder.

  "Rune, can you track these things?" He asked. "Try to find their owner, Mirella. Focus on her left over magical signature within these objects.”"

  Rune pulsed with an intense blue glow. The light intensified. She pointed to the door. Forming a faint, shimmering trail of light that snaked out of the room, through the door, and out into the street. It was a clear, unambiguous path.

  She flew to the same direction. Stopping for a few moments to wait for them.

  "Let's go!" Jack immediately moved. Following Rune. Reina and Barnaby immediately followed him.

  Rune led them away from the waterfront. Deeper into the city's wealthier districts. The buildings grew grander. The streets were cleaner. The carriages rolling by were polished to a sheen.

  Eventually, Rune hovered before an imposing mansion in the Noble District. Her blue glow was as intense as it had been.

  Jack observed the mansion. Its dark stone fa?ade seemed to exude an aura of ancient, forgotten power. Even amidst the relatively modern hustle around it. Intricate gargoyles leered from its eaves. And wrought-iron fences guarded its perimeter.

  "This was the residence of Viscount Loreclay." Reina said. Her charity activities and information gathering gave her deep knowledge of notable citizens in Lonestone. "A noble known for its old money and reclusive ownership of several brothels in the city. A stingy one."

  "A nobleman's mansion?" Barnaby asked in wonder. "Why would Mirella be here? She hates nobility."

  "Perhaps because he has some relation to the case you're investigating." Jack simply replied. His gaze was fixed on the mansion's heavy oak doors. "Reina, cover us. We're going in."

  Reina nodded. Her expression was serious. She raised her hands, and a subtle grey mist began to coalesce around them. Thickening into an invisible blanket in the eyes of others. For the world outside the mist, they seemed to blur and vanish.

  Barnaby looked around in amazement. They had become invisible. He couldn't see Jack and Reina. He couldn't even see his own body.

  "Er... I can't see you guys." He informed them. "I can't even see myself."

  "Sorry about that." Reina quickly replied and adjusted her illusion. Excluding Barnaby from it. "I forgot that you're not immune to illusion like Jack."

  Barnaby widened his eyes and looked at Jack. "You are immune to illusion?"

  "How do you think I can woo her otherwise?" Jack chuckled and bantered.

  He started to walk to the mansion's gates. Reina and Barnaby followed him. Their footsteps were muffled. Their presence was erased from mundane sight. It was a subtle, potent illusion. One that didn’t just hide them, but also made others' mind simply fail to register their existence.

  They passed through the front gates. The heavy iron groaned faintly. The illusion held firm as they approached the mansion.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  The main front doors were massive. And they were locked. Jack used the telekinesis power of his limited [Mysterious Anomaly] to easily unlocked it. He pushed them open slightly. And then they slipped inside.

  The interior of the mansion was opulent but eerily silent. On the walls, gilded frames held dark, brooding portraits. As for the windows, heavy velvet drapes blocked out most of the sun.

  Rune, however, paid no mind to the décor. She led them directly to a hidden door behind a tapestry depicting a hunting scene.

  Jack tugged at the tapestry. Revealing a solid iron door with complex runic carvings around its frame. The runes were new and quite potent.

  "Someone doesn't want things getting out." Jack observed. He examined the runes. "Dark binding wards. Designed to drain energy from anything trying to pass through. And from anything held within."

  He touched a hand to the cold iron. His [Eyes of Judgement] were activated. Allowing him to collect enough information to peer into the energy flows.

  He traced the lines. Identifying the key points. With a sharp twist of his wrist, a controlled burst of his own mana struck a specific point on the frame. Disrupting the flow.

  The wards flickered. Then died. The iron door groaned as he pushed it open. Revealing a spiral staircase descending into darkness.

  They decisively walked down the staircase. The air inside grew colder. Heavier. And filled with the damp smell of earth and rot.

  Rune's light pulsed steadily as she guided them in front.

  Jack took out his [Self-illuminating Orb]. Revealing rough stone walls of the space. For the sake of Reina and Barnaby. He personally didn't need it as he could see pretty well in the darkness.

  ...

  Deeper and deeper they went until they reached a subterranean chamber. An underground dungeon.

  They walked along the dark corridor and reached a prison cell. Two figures were slumped against the far wall of the cell. Shackled by thick, glowing chains. The chains pulsed with a sickly grey light. Feeding off the life force of their prisoners.

  Jack easily opened the cell's door and entered the room. He could now see that both figures were emaciated. Their clothes were ragged. Their skin was pale and drawn.

  "Mirella!" Barnaby gasped. His voice was choked with horror. He rushed forward. But Jack held him back.

  "Careful. Those chains are active."

  One of the prisoners was a middle-aged woman with shoulder-length red hair. Dull and matted now. She was Mirella. She was barely conscious. Her breathing was shallow.

  Beside her was a smaller man in a strange, checkered outfit. His head dropped to one side. He was unconscious.

  Jack moved closer. His eyes were scanning the runic chains. They were more sophisticated than the runes they previously encountered. The ones sealing the door to this level. These new ones were designed not just to restrain, but also to slowly extinguish life. Like leeches draining blood.

  "Nasty pieces of work." Jack muttered. "Non-standard binding runes with a pain enhancing energy siphon. They're drawing ambient magic and life force. Then burning it to keep the restraints active."

  He reached out. Not touching the chains directly. But hovering his hand over them. His [Eyes of Judgement] worked quickly. Analyzing the intricate patterns and the energy exchange.

  This wasn't a job for brute force. It required precision. To release the binding, he needed to reverse the polarity. Or at least disrupt the siphon without triggering a self-destruct.

  He focused all his attention and began to work. His fingers moved through the air as if tracing invisible lines. Subtle, barely visible pulses of light emanated from his fingertips. Disrupting the runic structures.

  Jack wasn't breaking the bindings with force. He was untangling them. Unwrapping their hold. Like a master locksmith picking a complex lock.

  It took several agonizing minutes.

  Barnaby watched. His fists were clenched. His face was a mask of worry. Reina stood ready. Her eyes were darting around for any sign of danger.

  Finally... with a soft clink, the green glow of the chains flickered erratically. Then it died out completely. The magical binding that supported the chains disappeared. The physical chains hung loosely. Easily removable.

  Barnaby rushed forward. Catching Mirella as she sagged further.

  The other man slumped to the floor. Remaining unconscious. A faint pulse fluttered at his neck.

  Mirella stirred. Her eyes were slowly blinking open. They were dull and unfocused at first. Then they widened as she recognized Barnaby.

  "Barnaby…?" Her voice was a dry rasp. Barely a whisper. "You came."

  "Of course I did." He quickly supported her further. "Who did this to you?"

  Mirella coughed. A painful sound. "Devils. It's a conclave... Six of them." She struggled for breath. "The Piper... he's here. But the one in charge isn't him. It's the Viscount... He is called the Prince of Charming Haven. Also a devil."

  Jack's eyes narrowed. Six devils? A conclave? This was more than just a simple hunt for a child-snatching fiend. This was a nest.

  "We need to get you out of here. And that man too." Reina said. Looking at the other man's unconscious form.

  "Yes." Jack agreed. "This place is likely a trap. Are the children here? Did you see them?"

  Mirella shook her head weakly. "No... They spoke of a 'sacrifice vault'. Deeper... perhaps..." Her eyes dimmed as she started to lose consciousness again.

  "She's too weak." Barnaby said. Gently lifting her off her feet. "We need to move them to safety first."

  Just as he spoke, the very fabric of the dungeon began to twist. The stone walls rippled like water. The floor buckled.

  It wasn't an illusion. Jack felt the raw, spatial energy tearing at reality. The air crackled with power. And the scent of ozone filled the chamber.

  "Be careful!" Jack shouted a warning as he grabbed Reina. "It's spatial manipulation! Brace yourselves!"

  The room spun violently. Colors blurred. Sounds were distorted. It was worse than any other teleportation Jack had ever experienced. He felt a sickening lurch. A feeling of being stretched and squeezed. And then, with a jarring snap, they were somewhere else.

  They landed hard on a floor made of polished obsidian. Shiny black, smooth and cold. The air here was heavy with the scent of strange fruity perfumes.

  Jack looked around quickly. The room was unlike anything in the dungeon. It was vast and circular. Lit by the flickering green flames that danced in ornate candelabras. Ornate playing cards with strange, demonic imagery were etched into the walls.

  And in the center, on a raised dais, sat a figure.

  He was dressed like a court jester. Flamboyant and grotesque. His multi-colored outfit was meticulously sewn. Each patch was a different, clashing pattern.

  A wide, unsettling grin was painted onto his face. Stretching from ear to ear. Giving his already sharp features an inhuman quality. His eyes, though, were the most terrifying. Two points of pure, burning malice, fixed on them.

  "Welcome, welcome!" The jester cackled. His voice was a high-pitched screech that grated on the nerves.