The Obsidian Key

By Aria Locke

In the neon-drenched sprawl of Neonspire City, Detective Mira Kade is haunted by a string of gruesome murders—each victim marked with an eerie, glowing glyph that defies all forensic logic. As she digs deeper, Mira uncovers a chilling conspiracy that points to Civitas, the corporate powerhouse that controls every facet of the city. The glyphs, she soon learns, are not just the signature of a killer, but fragments of an ancient, forbidden technology—one that Civitas is desperate to unlock.

With her malfunctioning cybernetic arm and a past she can't outrun, Mira reluctantly joins forces with Nova, an elusive hacker with her own vendetta against the corporation. Together, they must navigate a city where secrets are currency, and trust is a luxury they can't afford. As the truth behind the mysterious Obsidian Key begins to surface, Mira realizes she isn't just chasing a killer—she's racing against time to prevent Civitas from wielding a power that could rewrite reality itself.

Can Mira stop the corporation before they unleash something far worse than death? Or will she become another forgotten casualty of a city that thrives on shadows and secrets?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Trucky World Publishing
• Release date: Jan 20, 2025
• ISBN: 9798230885641

Book preview

The Obsidian Key

What Was Locked Away Should Never Be Found

Aria Locke

Copyright © 2025 by Aria Locke

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any form whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

First Edition: January 2025

Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Whispers in Neon

Chapter 2 Shadows of the Past

Chapter 3 Beneath the City

Chapter 4 Fragments of the Truth

Chapter 5 A Gilded Trap

Chapter 6 Vault of Secrets

Chapter 7 Breaking Point

Chapter 8 Echoes of Power

Chapter 9 The Abyss Opens

Chapter 10 Chained Futures

Chapter 11 Marked by Glyphs

Chapter 12 The Edge of Collapse

Chapter 13 The Seal of Shadows

Chapter 14 Ashes of Ambition

Chapter 15 Into the Dark

Epilogue A Faint Light

​Chapter 1

Whispers in Neon

​Rain slicked the uneven streets of Neonspire City, transforming the cracked pavement into a mirror of fractured neon. Reds, blues, and greens bled together in oily puddles, casting ghostly reflections of towering holo-ads and flickering signage. The air hung heavy with the scent of damp metal and ozone, punctuated by the faint tang of burnt circuitry. Somewhere in the distance, the low hum of transit drones vibrated against the concrete, mingling with the mechanical whispers of a city that never truly slept.

Detective Mira Kade pulled her trench coat tighter around her shoulders, the collar high against the cold rain. The worn fabric clung to her frame, darkened by the relentless downpour, but it wasn’t the chill that made her uneasy. It was the weight of familiarity—the same suffocating feeling that had haunted her since the first murder. Now it was back, stronger than ever.

The crime scene ahead pulsed under harsh white floodlights, the glow refracting through the rain like spears of light. Yellow holo-tape shimmered, cordoning off a narrow alley that stank of rotting trash and rust. Officers moved with practiced detachment, their holographic visors casting cold glints as they cataloged evidence. Civitas drones hovered silently above, their crimson sensors sweeping over every inch of the scene.

Mira’s boots splashed through shallow puddles as she approached, the steady thrum of her neural implant growing louder with each step. It was a subtle vibration, more sensation than sound, crawling just beneath her skin. She grimaced, pressing two fingers to her temple as if that would quiet the static.

Detective Kade, a voice called out, breaking through the drizzle.

Mira turned to find Officer Grant hovering near the holo-tape. His uniform was soaked, rain clinging to the synthetic fibers, and his expression was taut with unease.

What’ve we got? Mira’s voice was flat, clipped. She already knew the answer but asked anyway.

Grant swallowed. Male victim. Early thirties. No ID yet. Same as the others.

Mira exhaled slowly, her breath mingling with the rain. Show me.

Grant hesitated for half a second before stepping aside, allowing Mira to duck beneath the holo-tape and into the alley. The narrow space was choked with overturned crates and discarded tech parts, the walls slick with grime. And there, sprawled on the wet ground, was the body.

The man lay face-up, lifeless eyes staring into the void beyond the rain. His clothes were torn, soaked through, but it wasn’t the state of his body that held Mira’s attention. It was the symbol carved into his chest. The glyph.

A jagged, arcane shape, its lines impossibly precise as if etched by something far more deliberate than a knife. The symbol pulsed faintly, the grooves emitting a soft, unnatural glow that flickered in rhythm with the rain.

Mira crouched, her coat brushing against the wet ground. She studied the glyph, brow furrowed. Without thinking, her cybernetic hand lifted, the fingers extending toward the symbol.

The instant her metallic fingertips hovered inches above the glyph, a jolt shot up her arm—a cold, electric snap that seized the muscles in her shoulder.

She hissed, jerking back.

Not again.

Her neural implant buzzed, louder now, as if reacting to the symbol. Mira flexed her hand, the servos in her cybernetic arm whining softly in protest. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. But this felt stronger. Closer.

Grant shifted uneasily behind her. The drones couldn’t get a clean scan, he said, breaking the silence. Data came back corrupted.

Mira’s eyes narrowed. Of course it did.

No witnesses, either. Like before.

Mira stood slowly, rain sliding off her coat in thin streams. She scanned the alley, the towering shadows above, the surveillance drones hovering like distant eyes. All of it watched, but none of it saw.

It’s like it doesn’t want to be seen. Grant’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Mira’s lips thinned. No. Someone doesn’t want it to be seen.

Her gaze drifted upward to the darkened windows and blinking advertisements overhead. Civitas logos flickered between promotions, promises of safety and progress plastered across the skyline.

The Glyph Murders, Mira muttered under her breath. Six victims in as many weeks. And still no leads. No witnesses. No evidence that stuck.

Officer Grant cleared his throat nervously. Chief Brannick wanted me to remind you—Civitas is taking an interest. He says we should let their private security handle it.

Mira’s head snapped toward him. Let Civitas handle a serial killer? Her voice was sharp, cutting. They’d sooner bury it.

Grant looked away, rain dripping from his visor. I’m just repeating orders.

Mira scoffed, turning back to the body. Get the body to forensics. Double-lock the scene. I don’t want any data leaks.

Yes, ma’am. Grant hurried off, glad to be dismissed.

Mira stayed rooted in place, the rain dripping steadily off her coat. Her eyes traced the glyph again, the lines burned into flesh. The pulse of it seemed to tug at something in the back of her mind—something distant, half-forgotten.

Her comm crackled to life in her ear. Detective Kade.

Chief Brannick.

Mira didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes didn’t leave the glyph.

You there?

She clicked on. Go ahead.

Leave it.

Her jaw tightened. Excuse me?

You heard me. Drop the case. Civitas wants it closed.

Mira’s grip on her coat tightened. Six bodies, Chief. You want me to walk away?

That’s an order.

The line went dead.

Mira stared at the corpse for a long moment, then slowly crouched again. Her cybernetic hand hovered just above the glyph, not touching, but close enough to feel the cold aura radiating off it.

A message. That’s what it felt like.

But for whom?

Her reflection shimmered in the puddle beside the body, distorted by ripples of rain and light.

This isn’t over, she whispered.

Not by a long shot.

The rain fell harder, washing the blood into the gutters as Neonspire City pulsed on, oblivious to the shadows creeping beneath its glow.

​————

Mira’s boots echoed through the narrow corridors of the Neonspire City Police Department, each step deliberate and hard against the metallic flooring. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered intermittently, casting sharp shadows that stretched and bent as she moved. The rain from outside still clung to her coat in dark patches, dripping steadily onto the floor, leaving a wet trail behind her. The precinct was quiet in the early hours, the usual hum of officers and dispatchers reduced to scattered conversations and the low buzz of holo-terminals.

Her mind wasn’t on the hollow routine of the station, though. It was still back in that alley, staring at the glowing glyph burned into the man’s chest. It wasn’t just another murder. It was a message—one that seemed to claw at something deep in her memory.

The Chief's office loomed ahead, the frosted glass pane dimly illuminated from within. She didn’t bother knocking.

The door hissed open as it slid to the side, revealing Chief Brannick hunched over his desk, holo-screens casting blue light onto his weathered face. He looked up slowly, irritation already brewing behind tired eyes.

Kade, he grunted, voice rough from years of barking orders. You have a habit of ignoring protocol.

And you have a habit of burying cases that make Civitas uncomfortable. Mira’s tone was sharp, cutting through the stale air like a blade.

Brannick’s gaze hardened. I gave you an order.

Mira stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Six bodies, Chief. All carved up with the same glyph. And every time we get close, data goes missing, evidence gets ‘lost,’ and now you’re telling me to walk away.

Civitas owns half the city. They control the surveillance grid, they control the funding, and they can shut us down with a single boardroom decision. Brannick leaned forward, the desk creaking under his weight. This isn’t our fight.

Mira’s cybernetic fingers curled into a fist at her side. They’re hiding something.

Brannick’s expression didn’t change. Maybe they are. But that’s not our concern.

It’s mine.

No, it isn’t.

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Mira stared at him, searching for any flicker of doubt in his eyes, but found none. Just resignation.

Permission to continue the investigation, she said, voice controlled but taut.

Denied.

Silence.

Mira turned on her heel, biting down the urge to argue further. She knew it would be useless. As the door slid shut behind her, the weight in her chest only grew heavier.

Brannick was covering for them. Maybe willingly, maybe not. But it didn’t matter. Civitas had their hands in everything, pulling strings from behind their gleaming towers.

The ride back to her apartment was a blur of neon lights and rain-slicked streets. Mira sat silently in the autonomous cruiser, staring out the window as buildings flashed by. Civitas logos glimmered on towering holo-ads, selling promises of safety and progress. Lies, all of it.

Her neural implant buzzed faintly again, a low hum threading through her skull. She pressed her fingers to her temple, grimacing.

It’s nothing. She tried to dismiss it. But deep down, she knew better. That glyph had done something to her—something familiar.

Her apartment door slid open with a soft chime, revealing the cold, cluttered space she called home. Case files, old photographs, and flickering holograms littered the cramped room. The glow of crime scene images hovered in the air above her desk, frozen mid-loop.

She shrugged off her coat, letting it fall carelessly over a chair, and sat down at the console. With a flick of her wrist, the holo-interface flared to life. Mira pulled up the latest crime scene images, enlarging the glyph carved into the victim’s chest. The symbol spun slowly, its jagged lines sharp and unforgiving.

Her eyes narrowed.

Echo,