It is morning/span, about 62F(16C) degrees, and the sky is covered by dark grey stormclouds. The mist is heaviest At King and Lake/span

The four find themselves standing in the narrow alley as morning light filters weakly through the storm clouds overhead. The cobblestones glisten with moisture from yesterday’s rain, and the scent of lilacs drifts from somewhere beyond the brick walls. Kurt adjusts his collar against the cool air while Lykaia’s pale green eyes scan the shadows cast by the fire escape. The Fairfang brothers exchange glances, their investigation having led them to this seemingly ordinary passage between buildings.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoes from the alley’s entrance. A young woman with dark hair pulled back in a messy bun rushes into view, clutching a worn leather messenger bag against her chest. She checks her phone repeatedly, her face tight with anxiety. Her sneakers splash through small puddles as she hurries across the uneven cobblestones, clearly running late for something important. The bag bounces against her hip with each quick step, and something inside it makes a muffled clinking sound against the leather.

She’s heading directly toward the section where the cobblestones are most uneven, near the base of the fire escape where shadows pool deepest.

begins to make her way further into the alley. Then the woman steps up, and Lykaia focuses on her, calling over “Madam. Working with the NH Police Department. Please stop. I’d like to conduct a random search. Have your identity with you?” She asks, trying to move closer to the young woman.

Luka squints his eyes as he watches the woman burst into the alleyway. He tracks her as she makes her way between the tall buildings. His eyes flick to the bag at her waist for a moment and he takes a moment to sniff the air twice, clearly able to smell far more acutely from the average human if he can smell her from where he was.

He frowns, not satisfied with whatever information his nose had given him. He tucks his hands into his jean trouser pockets and shoots a cold look over to Alphonse, giving the man the tiniest possible nods in the girl’s direction

The four rather different people standing in this alleyway might have given the dark haired girl some pause had she the attention to spare, at least the rich looking Kurt and Lykaia not being the types to loiter in random alleyways. Alphonse takes a few steps forward at Luka’s nod, trailing up behind Lykaia. The man is dressed in a ‘motorcycle club’ jacket, same as his brother, and definitely does not look like an associate of the police.

Kurt stands, meanwhile, to the rear of the pack. As Lykaia makes her introduction as law enforcement, his brows tick up ever so slightly, and he remains in the back to play his part: That of the suited, in-charge authority figure in the back of the gaggle. The intention, seemingly, is to give both the bikers and the apparent, albeit un-uniformed law enforcement officer a measure of authenticity. Money, after all, speaks.

the woman’s anxiety-induced sweat, old leather from the bag, and something else underneath it all – something metallic and cold, with an almost electric quality that makes his nose twitch. There’s also the lingering scent of museum dust and old books clinging to her clothes.

Kurt’s imposing presence in his expensive suit creates the perfect backdrop of authority, while Elena’s gaze darts between all four strangers blocking her path. Her breathing quickens as precious seconds tick by. She checks her phone again: 8:23 AM. Her foot hovers dangerously close to a particularly deep crack between the cobblestones where rainwater has pooled.

Lykaia waits for two more seconds before she lets out a sigh. Hand remains on the hip over her thigh holster. “Madam?”

“Didn’t you hear the lady?” Alphonse swaggers forward aggressively, playing up a role. He steps past Lykaia, and walks towards Elena instead, his foot swishing over the pooled rainwater instead of the brunettes.

“Hey” Luka addresses the girl as he shoulders himself away from the wall he was leaning on. It was a sharper tone, not one designed to communicate friendship “That’s an interesting smelling bag you got there, you wanna show the class what’s inside it?” Luka asks her. Luka was much taller than Alphonse, but seemed pretty confident letting the smaller man be the muscle here.

To anyone watching Luka, it would very much look like this woman was simply getting shaken down for her purse in a back alley by a duo of criminals.

Kurt strides up in time with the others, always remaining in the back of the group, hands crossed behind his back. Formal. Professional. Though he lets the others speak, he follows up with his own instruction a moment later… Though, layered with his own talent with psychic persuasion, seeping into the woman’s mind as a command, more than a simple suggestion. “Ma’am… It would be in your best interest to cooperate.” The last word is layered with that talent behind it, making it an imperative in the woman’s mind should she be unable to resist.

8:24 AM. The motion causes her to stumble slightly on the uneven stones, but Alphonse’s positioning keeps her from stepping into the worst of the hazardous area.

Luka lets out an annoyed ‘tsk’ as the woman seems to land on the ‘freeze’ part of her ‘fight or flight’ instincts. He gives Alphonse another nod

Lykaia takes a few steps back, placing herself besides Kurt. “Don’t think she’s corporeal, mister Kurt. Time be resetting soon.”

Kurt furrows his brows, raising one towards Lykaia, “You’re saying she’s… What, a projection stuck on a loop?”

“Corporeal?” Alphonse questions. He steps forward to plant a hand on Elena’s shoulder, testing Lykaia’s theory. “That seems a bit of a jump. You ain’t a ghost, are you girl? You smell too real.”

25 AM.

The air in the alley grows noticeably colder, and shadows seem to deepen around the fire escape despite the overcast sky remaining unchanged. A faint reflection glimmers from within the messenger bag’s partially open flap, like light catching on dark glass.

“Affirmative. Is how disruption’s usually go.” Lykaia answers to Kurt, keeping her shaded eyes on the young woman. “Can’t touch. Can’t interact. Must locate what breaks the loop. Fire escape maybe relevant.”

Kurt clucks his tongue, gaze flitting from spot to spot. “Maybe not her, but… Perhaps.” His gaze lights on the messenger bag, and the reflection within. “Whatever’s in there.”

Luka is getting increasingly curious about the woman’s bag. “Whatever is going on in there aint natural, I can tell that much” Luka murmurs under his breath “Alph, she’s like 4’9, just take the fucking bag so we can end this witchcraft”

With no apparent reaction from Elena at Alphonse patting the woman’s shoulder, he snatches the woman’s bag away assumedly with just as little reaction from her, peeking into it.

26 AM. The shadows cast by the fire escape seem to writhe slightly, as if the metal structure itself is somehow connected to whatever temporal distortion is occurring.

A low, almost inaudible hum begins to emanate from the area around Elena, like the sound of electricity running through old wiring.

Kurt lets out a soft sigh, “Well, if it’s not that…” His gaze flits up to the fire escape itself. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding. It’s localized.”

“Should observe loop to completion.” Lykaia quietly suggests keeping where she is, watching Elena and then the bag, and then looking to the fire escape.

Luka thinks to himself that the LLM needs to write -much longer posts- for this patrol to function properly. He looks over Alphonse’s shoulder to peer into the bag he was carrying “Let’s see what we got …”

Alphonse backs away from the humming Elena uncomfortably, taking both his brother Luka and the bag with him. He keeps the bag wide open for Luka to see every detail of what might be inside. “Think its too late for this loop, if this is how it works.”

a university ID card for “Elena Vasquez – Doctoral Candidate, Anthropology,” a cracked smartphone, pens, and most prominently, a bundle wrapped in deep purple velvet cloth. The velvet is partially unwrapped, revealing the edge of what appears to be a polished black stone surface – an obsidian mirror about the size of a dinner plate. Ancient carved symbols are barely visible around its rim, and the surface seems to absorb light rather than reflect it properly.

The humming grows louder. Elena’s form begins to flicker slightly, like a television with poor reception. The temperature drops another few degrees, and frost begins forming on the cobblestones around her feet.

8:27 AM. The shadows from the fire escape now stretch unnaturally long across the alley floor, reaching toward the group despite the sun’s actual position overhead.

Lykaia moves to the fireescape without another word, trying to climb it up, and look around if there’s anything odd along its levels or metallic stairs.

Luka notes that the last post was better but the LLM should continue to write even longer posts in order for the patrol to function properly.

Luka nods his head slowly as he looks at what Alphonse has uncovered “Fuck, that’s definitely some kind of witchcraft” The man notes with a scowl. He looks over to Kurt “You know anything about this? If you don’t, my vote is we just smash it.”

Kurt shakes his head, letting out a soft sigh. “There it is. If I had to wager a guess, it’s the mirror, not a loop. The mirror just reflects the history of the area around it. So, in theory, if we break the mirror… The reflection stops.” He nods to Luka, “I’m not read up much on anything arcane, but I’d think the KISS principle still applies.”

“Works for me. Its just obsidian, looks like. Glass is pretty fragile.” Alphonse closes up the bag, and winds up a rotational spin with it, before slamming the bag full force into the brick wall of the alleyway.

The bag hits the brick wall with tremendous force. The sound of shattering obsidian rings through the alley like breaking crystal, followed by an otherworldly shriek that seems to come from the mirror itself. Purple light erupts from the bag as ancient symbols carved into the obsidian fragments begin to glow and fade.

Elena’s flickering form suddenly solidifies completely. She gasps, stumbling backward as if waking from a dream, her eyes wide with confusion and terror. The unnatural shadows snap back to their proper positions, the frost on the cobblestones melts instantly, and the oppressive cold lifts from the alley.

Lykaia, halfway up the fire escape, feels the metal structure shudder once before settling back to normal. The humming stops abruptly, leaving only the natural sounds of the city morning – distant traffic, a few birds, and Elena’s rapid breathing.

Elena looks around at the four strangers, then down at her destroyed bag with its scattered contents and glittering obsidian shards. Her face crumples with a mixture of relief and devastation. “Oh god,” she whispers, sinking to her knees beside the broken mirror. “Three years of research… but I couldn’t stop. I kept living the same moment over and over. The guilt, the anxiety about my defense, stealing from the collection…” She looks up at them with tears in her eyes. “Thank you. I don’t know how long I was trapped, but thank you.”

The alley feels completely normal now, just an ordinary passage between buildings on a cloudy June morning.