At dusk, the Abandoned Industrial Zone along Mist City's coast lay shrouded in a grayish-purple glow.
The sun had already sunk below the horizon, but the sky had not yet gone completely dark.
Mist City's people called this time of day "Grey Dusk."
That ambiguous stretch between day and night, when light and shadow blurred together, was also when most of the city's residents hurried home before darkness fell completely.
But for the Psychic Association, Grey Dusk marked the beginning of work.
Harding stood at the entrance of an abandoned factory building, both hands tucked into the pockets of his dark blue uniform.
His gaze crossed an open lot piled with rusted steel and settled on the hazy sea in the distance.
There were no ships on the water, only dense fog slowly churning like the breath of some enormous creature.
He was forty-seven this year and had worked for the Association for over twenty years.
After retiring from the front lines of fieldwork, he had thought he would never lead a mission like this again.
But this time was different.
The team sent out before them had been wiped out without even sending back any information.
The Association needed someone experienced, so he had come.
"Old Harding." Dirk's voice came from behind him. "The site's been confirmed. The three factory buildings to the north have all been cleared. No civilians." Dirk walked over and stopped beside him.
There was an eager look on the young man's face, but a trace of tension hid deep in his eyes.
After all, he had only joined two years ago. Before this, he had faced only ordinary Danger Level anomalies. This was his first time participating in the encirclement of a Hazard Level anomaly. "Where are the others?" Harding asked.
"The other three