The marble floors of the Inter-Mars Detective Bureau echoed with determined footsteps. Thirteen elite detectives—handpicked from every nation across Mars—sat around a long, metallic table, their faces sharp, eyes glinting with purpose.
Vice President Elric Voss stood at the head. "You are the best minds from your respective nations. The assassination of World President Adrian Veylor has shaken our planetary order. Until the elections next year, I will lead. But I want the truth. Use any means necessary—interrogate, research, analyze. The killer must be exposed before chaos spreads."
Beside her, a broad-shouldered man added, "Detective Makarov, from Frostline. We found residual aura traces not matching any registered officials. Someone high-level was there—off the books."
"Keep digging," Elric said coldly. "Your leads will be passed to the global archive. You'll be coordinated under one task force. The world is watching."
Meanwhile, in a village hidden beneath a floating ridge in Dusthaven, Manav stepped into the strange wooden kitchen of the magician's cottage. Shelves lined with arcane ingredients surrounded them—eyes of Martian lizards, glass jars filled with red sand, and glowing purple herbs.
Ryan Jim looked visibly uncomfortable. "Sir… this smells like five centuries of rotten spice."
Priya grinned. "It's called *Kaala-Leaf*. Used in ancient aura-detection rituals."
The magician, a hunched old woman with sharp silver eyes, stirred a pot that hissed with green steam. "This is not superstition. This is older than your books," she said, looking at Manav. "You seek the Book of Prophecy."
Manav, his face unreadable as always, gave a short nod. "We want to locate it."
The magician gestured toward the wall, where symbols glowed. "You must offer three truths—one each."
Priya stepped forward first. "I once tried to run away from the battlefield. I regret it to this day."
Ryan Jim followed hesitantly. "I used to think aura was everything. I now think it's a curse."
Manav paused. Then quietly said, "I believed I was doing the right thing when I created the system. But I'm not sure anymore."
The symbols pulsed brighter. "The path is open," the magician said.
Meanwhile, the Hood stood silently in the ancient, dust-ridden library. Books rotted in shelves. Aria and Zayn, cloaked and breathless, waited before him.
"Before we make any move, I must ask," Hood said, his voice deep and deliberate, "Do you know the history of Crimson Serpent?"
Aria nodded. "Yes. After President Adrian Veylor's murder, the vice president declared a one-year interim leadership and called for new elections."
Zayn added, "Our president told us how elections work—each country selects a representative who showcases their nation's president. The Global Parliament chooses the world leader based on merit."
Hood gave a slight nod. "Correct. That system was designed by none other than Manav, after he brought down the old world order. They even offered him the presidency."
"But he refused," Aria whispered.
"Exactly. After destroying the Dome, he refused power… and then, he destroyed the Crimson Serpent. A criminal syndicate that had controlled Mars from the shadows for over 420 years."
Zayn continued, "He sent six of the most powerful commanders: Ryan Jim, Karael, Dain, Elyas, Thane, and Liora. They wiped the Serpent off the map."
Hood folded his hands. "But history is not so easily erased. If we wish to bring Manav down, we must study how power moved. Because power moves in patterns."
Zayn raised an eyebrow. "Patterns?"
Hood quoted calmly: "*History never repeats. But it always rhymes.*"
Meanwhile, the detectives continued their interrogation back at the Bureau. Naira hacked into Adrian's final private communications. "Encrypted… but there's something. He mentioned… 'Crimson… alive… serpent... returning…'"
Makarov frowned. "Was Crimson Serpent really destroyed?"
Another detective, a young Martian named Elen, whispered, "What if it wasn't? What if it just… evolved?"
The idea hung in the air like smoke.
Back in the magician's kitchen, the ritual now glowed on the table. A swirl of gold energy hovered in a circle above the boiling pot.
"The Book," the magician muttered. "I see it. Buried. Somewhere that does not exist."
Priya looked confused. "What do you mean?"
The magician replied, "The Book of Prophecy was hidden in a place erased from all maps. A memory turned void. Only someone who remembers the Serpent's truth can unlock it."
Manav stared silently. Even Ryan Jim, always sarcastic, had nothing to say.
And far away in the library, Hood turned toward Aria and Zayn. His voice now grim.
"It's time you both learned what truly happened… five hundred years ago."
He took a deep breath.
"Let me begin the story of the Crimson Serpent.