Time/Date: Late Evening, TC1853.01.07
Location: Metropolitan Police Station - 4th Ring
In the station's forensics laboratory, Detective Inspector Morrison stood over a collection of evidence bags, his weathered face grim as he reviewed the preliminary analysis reports. The crystal glass that Raven had provided was yielding far more information than anyone had expected. The harsh fluorescent lighting cast sharp shadows across the metal examination tables, and the air carried that distinctive chemical smell of processing agents mixed with the faint metallic tang of blood samples.
Morrison had been a detective for thirty years, and he'd learned to trust his instincts when a case felt bigger than it appeared. This one had that particular weight—the kind that pressed against his chest and made sleep impossible. He'd left his office three times already tonight, trying to clear his head, only to be drawn back to this laboratory like a moth to flame.
"What do we have, Chen?" he asked the forensics technician, a sharp-eyed woman who approached evidence analysis with the precision of a master craftsman. Officer Chen had a reputation for being thorough to the point of obsession—exactly the kind of investigator Morrison wanted on a case this complex.
"It's fascinating, Inspector," Chen replied, holding up a detailed report. Her eyes held that particular gleam that came from uncovering something significant. "The glass contains residue from what we've identified as Amber Kiss—one of the most notorious fertility potions in existence. High-grade aphrodisiac combined with powerful fertility enhancers. Completely illegal to possess, let alone administer."
She pulled up the chemical analysis on her tablet, her fingers swiping through screens filled with molecular structures and compound breakdowns. "The formula is extremely complex, Inspector. We're talking about Sun-sap of Golden Thorn, Moon-blossom petals gathered at first light, powdered Stag-heart amber, Queen's Bloodwort essence, and trace amounts of what appears to be Fate-salt. These aren't ingredients you can purchase at any apothecary."
Morrison leaned closer, studying the analysis. Each component was flagged in red—indicating restricted or ceremonial substances. "How rare are we talking?"
"Some of these components are legendary, sir. Moon-blossom petals alone require specific ritual timing—they must be gathered at dawn on particular days of the lunar cycle, by someone trained in the ceremonial arts. The Sun-sap resin glows at sunrise and is almost impossible to harvest without spiritual cultivation techniques. And Queen's Bloodwort?" Chen shook her head, her expression troubled. "That's tied to lineage rites. It's not just expensive—it's ceremonially significant. The kind of thing only celestial families or very well-connected noble houses would have access to."
Morrison absorbed this, his mind already calculating the implications. "So this isn't something a seventeen-year-old servant could brew in her spare time."
"Not even close, Inspector. Creating Amber Kiss requires both alchemical expertise and access to restricted materials. We're talking about a potion that was historically brewed in secret chambers beneath sun-temples by master alchemists who'd trained for decades. The kind of thing that catalyzed international laws banning bloodcraft and non-consensual reproductive rites." Chen pulled up historical records on her tablet. "There was a reason the Celestial Accords of TC 1647 specifically banned unauthorized fertility potions. Too many noble families were using them to force bloodline connections, to trap people into marriages they couldn't escape."
"The dose matters too," Chen continued, pulling up another section of the report. "Whoever prepared this knew exactly what they were doing—calculated for maximum effect within a specific timeframe. Twenty to twenty-five minutes for initial symptoms, escalating to overwhelming compulsion. This is professional-level alchemy, not amateur work. Look at the ratios here—" She pointed to the molecular breakdown. "Too little Sun-sap and the effect is barely noticeable. Too much and the victim becomes violently ill. This formula hits the perfect balance for someone of average build and spiritual capacity."
Morrison felt the weight of what they were uncovering settle over him like a shroud. "And the fingerprints?"
"Three distinct sets on the glass. The positioning tells a story." She pulled up high-resolution photographs of the crystal flute, each fingerprint marked and analyzed. "One set—around the base and stem—suggests preparation work. Someone held this glass while mixing the base components. The second set is on the upper portion and rim, consistent with someone adding final components to the contents. And Mara Brenner's prints are positioned exactly where someone would hold it to drink."
She zoomed in on the overlay analysis. "The pattern clearly indicates collaborative preparation by two individuals, with Mara as the intended target. See how these prints—" she highlighted the base prints, "—show compression marks suggesting the glass was held firmly while liquid was poured? And these upper rim prints show the delicate positioning you'd use when adding powder or essence to an already-prepared mixture. This wasn't rushed. This was careful, methodical preparation by people who knew exactly what they were doing."
"We'll need to verify those prints against Selene Lin and Amara Brenner."
"Already queued for comparison once we get their prints, sir." Chen hesitated before continuing, her expression troubled. "There's something else, Inspector. I've heard rumors—unconfirmed, of course—that some celestial families have been using Amber Kiss consensually to help with conception issues. Bloodline families trying to ensure heirs, that sort of thing. Very hush-hush, but it would explain how someone might have access to the ingredients."
Morrison's expression hardened. "That's speculation, Chen. And even if it's true, using it consensually within a marriage is very different from drugging an unmarried minor with it."
"Of course, sir. I'm just noting that the sophistication of this particular brew suggests someone with deep connections to either celestial families or high-level alchemy guilds. This wasn't purchased on the black market—black market Amber Kiss is crude, often contaminated. This is pure, precisely formulated. The kind of quality you only get from someone with legitimate access to ceremonial materials."
Morrison felt pieces of a larger puzzle beginning to shift into place. This wasn't just about one girl being targeted. This was about networks of power and access that extended far beyond what local police typically dealt with. "What about the hotel evidence from room 623?"
"Additionally, we processed the hotel evidence," Chen continued, her voice taking on a grimmer tone. "Blood on the sheets—the amount suggesting loss of virginity. The blood type doesn't match any of our current suspects, nor does it match Lord Kael's blood type, which we obtained from his imperial medical records through proper channels."
Morrison's expression grew even grimmer. "So the victim was an innocent."
"That's what the evidence suggests, sir. Whoever was in that room had never engaged in sexual activity before. Combined with the Celestial Union Incense and the elaborate setup, this wasn't just a simple liaison—this was planned as either a forced marriage scenario or something even more calculating." Chen pulled up the blood analysis report. "The blood also shows signs of elevated stress hormones—adrenaline, cortisol. Whoever this was experienced significant fear or panic during the encounter."
She paused, her professional composure cracking slightly. "Inspector, I've been doing this work for fifteen years. I've processed evidence from assault cases, trafficking cases, you name it. But there's something particularly cold about this. Someone planned this down to the minute—the timing, the substances, the location. They positioned an innocent young woman in that room, knowing exactly what would happen to her. And then they made sure she disappeared afterward so she couldn't testify."
Morrison nodded grimly. "And here's where it gets really interesting," Chen continued, pulling up another set of reports. "The incense residue found in the room is particularly significant. Chemical analysis identified it as Celestial Union Incense—a sacred blend used exclusively during celestial family wedding ceremonies. It's highly restricted, requiring special permits and only available through authorized ceremonial suppliers."
Morrison's weathered face showed the weight of this revelation. "That's not something a servant girl could obtain."
"Exactly. The formula contains rare herbs that are controlled substances—Starlight Sage, which only grows in cultivation arrays maintained by the Sanctum; Moonveil Lotus, which requires celestial-grade spiritual energy to mature; and several other components that are tracked and regulated." Chen pulled up the ceremonial substance database. "Every gram of Celestial Union Incense is logged, Inspector. There's a paper trail for every legitimate use—wedding ceremonies, bloodline bonding rites, that sort of thing. And the incense itself costs more than most people earn in a year. Only celestial families have legitimate access to it for their matrimonial rituals."
"So someone with celestial family connections arranged this," Morrison said quietly.
"Or someone who could access celestial family resources," Chen clarified. "But yes, we're talking about extraordinary privilege here. The kind that reaches into The Sanctum itself."
Chen pulled up another file, her excitement barely contained despite the grim nature of the evidence. "There's also the hotel's surveillance system. The Grand Imperial recently installed state-of-the-art monitoring throughout the building due to a series of high-profile thefts. The system is completely discrete—guests wouldn't even know it exists. Formation-based recording that captures everything from multiple angles."
Morrison broke into the first genuine expression of satisfaction he'd managed in hours. "Tell me you have footage."
"Hours of it. And Inspector..." She paused for emphasis, letting the significance sink in. "Lord Kael doesn't look drugged in any of the recordings. He's walking normally, speaking coherently with hotel staff, showing no signs of impairment when he enters the hotel or even when he proceeds to the sixth floor. His movements are coordinated, purposeful. This isn't someone who's been incapacitated."
She pulled up a sequence of timestamps, the footage playing across her tablet screen. "Look at this—11:47 PM, entering the lobby. He exchanges pleasantries with the doorman. 11:52 PM, in the elevator. Standing steady, no stumbling. 11:58 PM, walking down the sixth-floor corridor to room 623. Again, completely coordinated. If he was drugged with something as potent as the levels we found in his system suggested, he wouldn't be moving this smoothly."
"So either he wasn't drugged at all," Morrison observed, "or the drugging happened after he entered the room."
"Or," Chen added carefully, "he was given substances that enhanced certain responses without actually incapacitating him. The toxicology report showed aphrodisiacs and mild sedatives—enough to lower inhibitions and create memory gaps, but not enough to render him unconscious or visibly impaired."
She pulled up more footage. "We also have video of a woman leaving room 623 just before daybreak. Face covered with what appears to be a servant's headscarf, wearing clothing that matches hotel staff uniforms. She's very aware of camera placement—see how she keeps her head angled away from the lenses? She exits through this corridor that leads toward the kitchen service areas, where she'd blend in with morning shift workers."
"Can we identify her?"
"Not from facial features—she was clearly aware of the cameras and kept her face concealed throughout. But her build and movements suggest someone young, possibly early twenties. Around 162 centimeters tall, based on the door frame measurements. Slim build. The way she moves suggests someone accustomed to service work—that particular efficiency of movement you develop from years of carrying trays and navigating crowded kitchens."
Chen's expression grew darker. "And Inspector—four staff members failed to report for work this morning. Three women who served at the banquet last night, and one who was scheduled for the morning shift. All of them have completely disappeared. No notices given, no final wages collected, no contact with their families or roommates."
Morrison set down his coffee cup with a sharp click, the sound echoing in the quiet laboratory. "Four missing women. Three who were at the scene of the crime, one scheduled to work the morning after." His mind raced through the implications, years of experience crystallizing into grim certainty. "That's not a coincidence, Chen. That's witness elimination."
"That's what I thought, sir. The three who served at the banquet were positioned in specific areas throughout the evening—almost like they were placed strategically. One near the refreshment table where the Amber Kiss was likely administered. One in the corridor leading to the private rooms. One stationed near the service entrance. And now they've vanished without collecting final wages, without informing supervisors, without any of the normal procedures workers follow when they quit."
"Do we have identities?"
"Working on it. Hotel management is being... reluctant to provide full staff records. They're worried about the scandal implications of this case. A celestial family member involved in a potential assault, missing employees, restricted substances—they're terrified this will destroy their reputation." Chen's voice carried frustration. "But I've got enough preliminary information to know these were young women from the outer districts. The kind who couldn't afford to simply abandon steady employment unless they were either dead or running for their lives."
Morrison's jaw tightened, his weathered face showing the anger he usually kept carefully controlled. "Get Commissioner Wu involved if you need to. I want names, addresses, family contacts—everything. If those women are dead, we're looking at multiple homicides on top of the attempted assault of a minor. If they're in hiding, we need to find them before whoever silenced them decides to tie up those loose ends permanently."
"Yes, sir." Chen made rapid notes, her fingers flying across her tablet. "There's one more thing about the missing women. According to the preliminary staff manifests I managed to obtain, two of them had family in the agricultural districts—parents, siblings who might notice if they don't come home. The third was an orphan who lived in shared housing with other hotel workers. If someone wanted to make people disappear, they picked targets that would raise questions rather than vanish quietly."
"Unless someone doesn't care about questions," Morrison said grimly, his mind already working through the implications. "Unless they're confident enough in their position that they believe they can weather any investigation. Or unless they wanted those questions raised—wanted us to know they're powerful enough to make witnesses disappear and not face consequences."
He stood, gathering the evidence reports with hands that had processed thousands of such documents over three decades. Each page represented a life, a choice, a consequence. "Get me everything we have on those missing women. Employment records, last known locations, any personal effects left behind. Interview their roommates, their families, anyone who might have seen or heard from them. And Chen—priority one. If they're alive and hiding, they're witnesses to whatever conspiracy we're unraveling here. If they're dead, we need to find the bodies before whoever killed them can destroy the evidence."
Morrison set down the reports with careful deliberation, his mind cataloging the growing mountain of evidence. The implications were staggering—not just a simple case of attempted assault, but something far more elaborate involving multiple conspirators, restricted Sanctum materials, celestial family resources, and possibly even witness elimination. This was the kind of case that could make or break careers, that could expose corruption reaching into the highest levels of imperial society.
"Prepare a comprehensive evidence presentation," he ordered, his voice carrying the weight of three decades of experience. "I want every piece of analysis, every surveillance frame, every inconsistency documented and ready for review. Multiple redundancies—if something happens to the primary evidence, I want backups that are bulletproof."
"Should I notify Commissioner Wu?"
"Immediately. And Chen..." Morrison paused, meeting her eyes with the intensity of someone who understood exactly how dangerous this investigation had become. "Make sure everything is triple-checked. If we're about to expose a conspiracy that reaches into celestial families, I want our evidence to be absolutely ironclad. We're going to face pressure from people with resources we can't even imagine. The only thing that will protect us is evidence so solid that even they can't dispute it."
Chen nodded grimly, already turning back to her workstation. The game was changing, and the stakes had just become far higher than anyone had initially realized. Through the laboratory windows, the pre-dawn darkness was just beginning to yield to the first hints of gray. A new day was coming, and with it, a reckoning that would shake the foundations of the empire itself.
Outside Interview Room One, the Metropolitan Police Station continued its nightly business, officers processing routine cases and filing standard reports. None of them realized that in this small forensics laboratory, the threads of a conspiracy that reached into the highest levels of imperial society were being systematically documented, analyzed, and prepared for exposure.
The interviews were complete. The evidence was damning. All that remained was the confrontation.
And when that confrontation came, Morrison intended to ensure that truth—for once—would triumph over power.