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Seeing the dark-haired young man, Sariel, sink back into his daze, Detective Salieri Montenegro sighs in resignation at the apparent impossibility of obtaining information from him at this moment. However, there is also a sense of strange relief, for deep down, she knew that if she stayed any longer, more unusual situations might occur.
Besides, right now was no time for those kinds of thoughts or feelings. They were at a crime scene that did not seem ordinary, as even the Central Republic Army had begun to arrive at the location.
Thus, she immediately returns to where the Agent was. However, upon arriving, all that magic—all that mystery—suddenly vanishes, giving way to what she had momentarily forgotten. Within her, her heart, which moments before had stirred with an inexplicable joy and a surprising warmth upon meeting the young man's gaze—as if she had finally reunited with someone she hadn't seen in a very long time—now beats with a force that sends chills down her spine.
—Tell me, have the victims been identified? –Her gaze focuses on the nearby blonde Agent, who seems to be one of the few who doesn't follow the same patterns as the others, where no one wanted to give her information–
—She nods to her while pulling out her cell phone and opening her police app, where she already has the forensic evidence ready– Based on their fingerprints, the victims on the adjacent soccer field are a female named Alejandra Hernández López, 28 years old, and a male named Jack Clinton, 30 years old. Both were part of the Melbury Police Department, specifically from the Emerith District Station, and they were also a romantic couple. It was even said at their station that they planned to get married next year…–
Salieri says nothing for a few seconds. Inside, she can only shake her head at the helplessness of seeing her colleagues—who once had plans and families—fallen in the line of duty. Fortunately, she knows that, although they have passed away, the Central Republic will not abandon their loved ones.
—Do they know the causes of their deaths or why they were here? –Salieri asks, regaining her firm and professional tone–
—According to the radio recordings from the Emerith Station, they were sent to this location because something strange was happening; reports indicated there was someone unusual causing destruction at various points in this recreational area. However, after some time, upon receiving no response from those who were sent, they decided to call someone else who was nearby… –The Agent stops momentarily, not wanting to reveal more than necessary—not out of perverse pleasure, but because she does not want to hurt her–
Salieri looks around. Her eyes analyze the scene with an intensity that does not go unnoticed by anyone. Seven years in the Police, and five in the Homicide Unit, had completely transformed her eyes, allowing her to analyze details that would go unnoticed by others. And now, once again, she could use her ability to analyze this devastated basketball court.
—What happened here? –She asks the air, while her gaze remains fixed on the traces of the battle, which does not look like a normal confrontation–
—We have no idea, Detective –A nearby sergeant responds, approaching cautiously– But, based on the trail of destruction, we can assume there was a major clash here, as there are even traces as if explosions had occurred. Not here on the adjacent basketball and soccer courts, but in other parts of the park–
Detective Montenegro then moves toward the center of the soccer field, the one closest to her, analyzing every detail with extreme care: the high-caliber bullet casings, the burn marks on the asphalt, the lingering scent of ozone, the massive destruction. Finally, she stops next to one of the abandoned weapons—a combat rifle with evident technological peculiarities, an advanced design that makes it different from any standard-issue weapon she had ever seen before.
—Are there security cameras? Any recordings of the incident? –While she squats down to take a closer look at the rifle, her mind continues to formulate questions–
—The blonde Agent shakes her head– Negative, Detective. Although there were several cameras covering the perimeter of the recreational center, each and every one of them was destroyed beforehand, before the first unit, the one belonging to the currently fallen, arrived. It was as if someone didn't want electronic witnesses, as if they didn't want anyone to see what they were going to do –She adds, looking toward one of the cameras that seemed intact– Some of them have traces of destruction as if a projectile had been launched at them. Others, like that one… –The Agent points to the camera her eyes see– …look intact. However, upon checking them, we discovered their internal circuits were completely fried. It looked as if someone had set off an EMP or something like that–
Salieri nods, analyzing the words of the policewoman, who is five years her senior. Then, she stands and heads toward the body lying on the basketball court—the one to the right of the soccer field, just a few meters away and much smaller. Here, in this spot, lies a third body, near where her previous suspect, Sariel, was sitting. Her demeanor at this moment is relatively calm, yet carrying the same unease as before.
However, as soon as she arrives, after passing through some of the wreckage, her gaze catches something even from two meters away.
—That… –Salieri stops as soon as she looks at the third body–
With slow steps, and her heart beating faster and faster, she moves forward, stopping right in front of it. Then, her gaze fixes on one of the victim's arms, which has been left exposed as the blanket covering it shifted. Instantly, her eyes widen upon seeing a long, distinctive scar stretching from the wrist almost to the elbow of the body. Seconds later, an icy chill runs down her spine as a knot of terror and recognition forms in her throat, leaving her breathless for a moment.
—Who… who is the third victim? –She asks, and although her voice sounds calm, almost clinical on the outside, on the inside she cannot stop the constant chills and the pounding of her heart. However, this time, the heartbeats and chills no longer brought that strange joy she felt upon seeing the dark-haired young man; instead, they were a growing, frozen horror threatening to drown her. After all, that scar on that arm was a far too familiar mark that she had seen her entire life.–
The blonde Agent remains silent and lowers her gaze with an expression of deep sorrow. Even her own eyes redden slightly and she clenches her fist, her heart also feeling a profound pain.
And in fact, it wasn't just her who had lowered her gaze and fallen silent. All the other agents present had done the same as soon as she asked the question.
In an instant, the area—the crime scene that was previously bustling with the sounds of forensics and both military and police activity—now becomes a shroud of sadness descending over all of them.
No one, not even the blonde policewoman herself, dares to be the bearer of the terrible and tragic news.
—Why aren't you answering? –Salieri insists, and a fine crack begins to appear in her facade of professional tranquility, a note of urgency and barely contained pain filtering into her voice.–
Seeing that no one gives her a direct answer, she finally decides to face that strange and growing fear that emerged upon seeing the scar. With somber resolve, she takes a step forward, leans over the covered body, and, with hands she tries to keep steady, begins to slowly remove the sheet, centimeter by centimeter, while the chills inside her body only worsen.
—...–
Finally, the cloth is completely pulled back, revealing the pale and lifeless face of Leon Montenegro Solís, Commander of the Morian District Police Station of the City of Melbury, and also the former Heir of the Montenegros—one of the seven Founding Families of this country, the second wealthiest in the Central Republic, and the third wealthiest in the entire world.
But above all those titles, he was also her Father, the only person who had been with her since the strange disappearance of her Mother when she was five years old, and the only person who stood by her side, supporting her, when she could not count on the Montenegros due to the Old Patriarch's repulsion toward Leon for having chosen a woman who was the living image of her, Salieri, his daughter.
And now, he was not only dead, but he also had a circular wound in his chest, about five centimeters in diameter, which looked like dark and repulsive flesh inside the cavity.
—...–
Silence floods the place, thick and suffocating. The gazes of everyone present, heavy with compassion and a tense expectation, turn toward Detective Montenegro. She, however, only observes with an almost unnatural tranquility the lifeless body lying beneath her feet—her father's face serene in death, despite the brutal wound in his chest.
—How did this happen? –Finally, after what feels like at least two minutes of deathly silence, she speaks. Her voice is low, controlled, but with an edge of steel vibrating beneath.–
—We don't know –The Sergeant from before responds, the one who had threatened to arrest Sariel, as she cautiously approaches– When we arrived, he... he was already in this state–
Salieri's body trembles slightly with an almost imperceptible jolt. However, at that moment, she remembers her Father's countless lessons: the psychological training that endowed her with iron-clad composure and the ability to keep a cool head even in the most critical moments.
So, she clenches her jaw, suppresses her pain and anger, and fixes her scarlet eyes on her Father's face to engrave and analyze every detail.
—But… –The sergeant continues, breaking the tense silence and gesturing with a nod toward the nearby bench. Her tone is so clearly accusatory that it even makes the blonde Agent frown– It's likely that dark-haired boy over there knows something. Not only was he the only one we saw when we arrived, but he was even cradling Officer Montenegro's lifeless body–