Aden Aden Aden -

He stepped out of the truck, the air thick with the smell of salt, rotting wood, and wet earth. He pulled a flashlight from his pocket but did not turn it on. He moved by muscle memory toward the old pier.

The call came at three in the morning, vibrating hard enough against the wooden nightstand to wake the heavy sleeper beside him. Elias didn’t fumble. His hand clamped over the phone instantly, sliding the green icon before the second ring could cut through the silence of the dark bedroom. He didn't say hello. He waited.

The truck bounced violently as Elias turned off the main road onto the dirt path leading to the ruins of the Aden cannery. He killed the lights a quarter-mile out, coasting the rest of the way in the dark, guided only by the faint, pale glow of the moon breaking through the mist. Aden Aden Aden

Marcus stepped forward into a thin shaft of moonlight. He looked terrible. His coat was torn, a dark smear of what could only be blood staining his left side, and his eyes were wild with a brand of fear Elias had never seen in him. He was clutching a small, metallic briefcase to his chest like a shield.

Elias looked at his oldest friend, then down at the heavy case in his hand. He didn't waste his five minutes on a goodbye. He turned and ran into the dark. What kind of genre or plot twist He stepped out of the truck, the air

"I found it, Elias," Marcus breathed, laughing a breathless, manic laugh. "What we were looking for back at the agency. The reason Silas disappeared. It wasn't an accident. They are clearing the board."

Through the receiver came a heavy, panicked inhale, followed by a voice that sounded like gravel being crushed. "Aden... Aden... Aden." The line went dead. The call came at three in the morning,

"Who is clearing the board, Marcus? Sit down, you're bleeding."