This place is not as you left it. The world moved on behind your back.

This place is not as you left it. The world moved on behind your back.

Raindrops gather on the wreckage overhead.

Nose to the air. Take in the scent.

Inhale.

Incense, grease, the dank of canal water.

But the air is charged. Something is wrong. Crickets gone quiet under shadow.

What was this site originally?

Essilk #3. The old silk factory, once the pounding heart of the city.

Now its walls are layered with past identities -- a patchwork of Portofiran turf war.

I should get going.

PSEUDOPOD had a purchase order from a vendor called 'Carmuna'. She must be in here somewhere.

You also have that curious red disc to hand. A media specialist could likely tell you more.

Your 'special asset' said PSEUDOPOD had gone to interview the vendors. He must have left some impression for you to pick up.

You see a haze of coloured light, dark figures moving within.

You hear laughter and music ahead.