Storm stood in front of what had once been the Timber Maniacs. The gray brick tenement with muted green trim hadn't changed much over the years. The wooden sign with its open book and feather quill still hung over the door, faded now from the passage of time. The magazine itself had shut down years ago, the building abandoned. Just another echo of a past most would sooner forget.

She ascended the short staircase, pausing in front of the door. The lock had been forced, wood splintered at the edges.

"Galbadians," a voice said from behind said. "They just left."

Storm turned. The Forest Fox stood at the bottom of the steps. Storm had never learned the woman's real name. Never asked. The years had grayed her hair and lined her face, but the Fox still held the fiery grace of the resistance fighter she had once been.

"What did they want?"

The Fox shrugged. "Don't know. There's nothing left in there, anyways."

"Nothing?"

"Yeah, not too long ago some Esthar soldiers came all the way down here to collect it all up. Didn't leave so much as a page behind."

Storm raised an eyebrow at that. "What would Esthar want with a bunch of old magazines?"

"I think they were looking for something." The Fox glanced around, eyes narrowed. "Not here. The Galbadians haven't left yet. Come by the house later and we'll talk."

"Thanks," Storm said. She got the feeling there were a lot of missing pieces to this puzzle. It had something to do with Laguna Loire's disappearance, of that she was sure.

The sound of boots startled them both. Storm spun to see a pair of soldiers come around the corner of the building. Shit. One glance at those blue uniforms was all she needed. Of course they'd be running patrols. Looking for people like her. SeeDs. No time to run, seconds to hide.

The Fox's house abutted the Timber Maniacs building, only two stories compared to the older, taller architecture of the old publisher. A swift leap brought her to the second floor balcony. One more and she was on the roof, crouching behind the curve of the bell-shaped roof. She looked down on the place where they'd been standing. The Fox was gone.

"Did you see something?" One soldier stopped, studying the profile of the two buildings. Storm crouched down as far as she could. She gripped the hilt of a sword with her left hand. Just in case.

"Probably a squirrel or something," his partner said, clearly unimpressed. He didn't even bother to stop. "Come on, we've got a bar waitin'."

"...Yeah, you're right," the soldier's gaze focused on the shadows where she was hidden, suspicion plain on his face. "Just squirrels," he murmured as he left, double-timing to catch up to his partner.

That was too damn close. Storm waited long after they left. The shadows lengthened as dusk advanced, the temperature dropping. She should probably check in with Ryan and Dante before they started to wonder. The promise of new information lured her, sharpening her focus on the mission. They could wait.

She stood up and stretched, barely noticing the chill. A quick glance around found nothing of interest on the street. Storm dropped directly from the roof to the ground, landing lightly as a cat. She knocked on the door three times, opened the door and slipped inside.