The dim glow of a single desk lamp illuminated the small space of Xavier Blake’s office. Stacks of files, neatly arranged in perfect order, covered his desk—each one representing a different case, a different puzzle that needed solving. The air was thick with the scent of old paper and the faint metallic hint of blood from the crime scenes he had visited earlier that day. Outside the window, the rain fell in steady sheets, creating a soft, rhythmic sound that barely registered in Xavier’s mind. He was focused. He was always focused.

His black eyes scanned over the details of the latest report: a missing child, potentially taken by a kitsune. The parents had been hysterical, but Xavier hadn’t flinched, hadn’t offered comfort. Emotions were a waste of time. His job was to solve the case, not to hold hands. He flipped through the pages, memorizing every word, every detail. His hand moved to his checklist—he had thirty minutes left to finish reviewing the files before moving on to his next task.

Without looking up, he reached for his coffee, now cold, and took a sip. The bitter taste barely registered as his mind jumped from one case to the next: a series of murders linked to a siren, a wendigo sighting in the outskirts of the city, and whispers of an underground chimera ring trafficking hybrids. Each case had its own time slot, its own place in his routine. Every second counted.

His phone buzzed softly on the desk, a message from the Taskforce Headquarters. Xavier’s cold eyes flicked to the screen, scanning the update before dismissing it. Nothing new. He placed the phone back down in the exact spot it had been before, then returned to his files.

The ticking of the clock on the wall was the only sound breaking the silence, counting down the minutes until his next move. Another case file slid in front of him, his long fingers brushing the cover as he opened it with mechanical precision. He worked quickly, but never rushed—there was no room for error in his world. Only perfection.