Five years had passed since the name Celeste Noir last made headlines in the grand city of Silverpalace. Rumors of her retirement spread like wildfire, each more dramatic than the last—some claimed she'd been assassinated by a criminal syndicate, others whispered she'd vanished into exile. Only one truth remained certain: she was gone.
But not quite.
On the misty outskirts of Silverpalace, nestled between a quiet row of bookshops and antique stores, stood a modest little office with an old wooden sign:
Emma Walker – Private Detective.
Discreet. Professional. Trustworthy.
Unbeknownst to passersby, "Emma Walker" was none other than the legendary detective herself—Celeste Noir. With her long lavender hair dyed a warm chestnut brown and her name changed, she had buried her past under layers of disguise. To the world, she was just another girl with dreams of becoming a detective. To a select few in power… she was still the Violet Phantom.
The bell above the door jingled.
A man stepped inside, his boots polished, his coat damp from the light morning rain. He exuded the subtle air of nobility—refined, measured, and dangerous if crossed.
Celeste looked up from behind her desk, her voice light and professional.
"Welcome to the Emma Detective Agency. What can I do for you?"
The man removed his gloves with precision.
"I am Cedric Wynthorne."
Her eyes flicked over him. A familiar name.
"So, Mr. Cedric… what brings you here?"
He stepped closer, placing a sealed folder onto her desk.
"There's a case I'd like you to take."
Celeste raised a brow.
"An officer of the Crown Guard coming to me in person? How interesting."
She leaned back slightly. "You're not here on official business… are you?"
Cedric's expression remained unreadable.
"That doesn't matter. The case does."
She opened the folder, scanning the brief.
CASE FILE: BLACK VEIL MURDERS.
A string of women found dead across the lower quarter of Silverpalace.
Each with a black veil tied around their face. No signs of struggle. No witnesses.
And one message left in blood on the third scene:
"The masquerade has begun."
Celeste's violet eyes sharpened beneath her calm exterior.
"This is… unsettling. Even for someone like me."
"I'll pay you double," Cedric said calmly. "Triple, if it means you solve it before another body turns up."
Celeste paused. Then smiled.
"Very well. I accept. I'll visit the latest scene before sundown. Inform your men—tell them not to interfere. I don't want uniform boots contaminating my crime scene."
Cedric gave a slow nod.
"I'll make sure of it."
As he turned to leave, she watched him closely. She'd seen his kind before—men burdened by secrets. Men who had run out of options.
The moment the door shut behind him, Celeste stood and walked to the mirror.
She pulled off the brown wig, letting her long lavender hair fall loose once more.
Her violet eyes reflected back at her like a ghost from the past.
"The masquerade has begun, huh…?" she whispered.