The Oldest House loomed ahead, its brutalist form stark against the night sky. Trench parked his car outside and stepped into the building, the ever-present hum of its strange energy already settling into his bones. It wasn't the first time his evening plans had been cut short for the Bureau, and he doubted it would be the last.

Inside, the corridors were quieter than usual, save for the occasional murmur of an agent's voice or the clatter of equipment. The weight of the building's shifting architecture was palpable, as if the House itself knew something significant was about to happen.

Agent Sophia Reyes was waiting for him in the briefing room, a tablet in her hands and a no-nonsense expression on her face. She looked up as he entered, her sharp gaze scanning him for any signs of hesitation.

"Glad you made it," she said, wasting no time.

"Would've preferred to finish dinner first," Trench replied dryly, stepping over to the table. "What's the situation?"

Reyes tapped on her computer, and the overhead screen lit up with a map of an isolated, forested area somewhere in the Pacific Northwest. A red marker pulsed faintly on the display, accompanied by a series of classified notes.

"This is Brimstone Ridge," she began. "A remote, unincorporated area about sixty miles outside Seattle. Population's less than a hundred, but something's been happening there—something the Bureau can't ignore."

Trench studied the map. "Go on."

Reyes swiped to the next slide, revealing grainy photographs: distorted images of buildings seemingly twisted at impossible angles, shadowy figures barely visible against the backdrop of the forest.

"Locals have reported strange phenomena—houses shifting overnight, animals disappearing, and people experiencing hallucinations. The last report came from the town's only sheriff, who described 'unexplained disturbances' before all communication went dark two days ago."

"And we're just now hearing about this?" Trench asked, his tone clipped.

Reyes shot him a look. "The Bureau doesn't have eyes everywhere. It wasn't flagged as a potential Altered World Event until today, when the sheriff's final transmission showed up in our records. Take a listen."

She hit play on the tablet, and a crackling audio recording filled the room.

"This is Sheriff Danvers of Brimstone Ridge," the voice said, tight with fear. "Something's wrong here. Real wrong. It's in the trees, in the ground. The people—they're not themselves. I… I can't stay here anymore. I—"

The recording cut out abruptly, leaving a heavy silence in its wake.

Trench frowned. "That's all?"

"That's all," Reyes confirmed. "No way to confirm what he meant, but the signs point to an AWE. The Director's ordered us to investigate, contain, and, if possible, bring back any evidence for further study."

Trench's fingers drummed against the table as he processed the information. "What's our timeline?"

"We leave in two hours," Reyes replied, handing him a dossier. "I've already prepped the gear. We'll take a transport to Seattle and go from there. The area's remote, so we'll have to hike the last few miles in."

Trench flipped through the dossier, scanning the sparse details. It wasn't much to go on, but that was nothing new. "Any support team coming with us?"

"No," Reyes said. "It's just us this time. Standard protocol for initial investigations."

He nodded, closing the file. "Fine. I'll grab my kit and meet you in the armory."

As Trench turned to leave, Reyes called after him. "Hey, Trench."

He paused, looking back.

"You good?" she asked, her expression softer now. "You seem... distracted."

Trench hesitated for a moment before replying. "Just a long day. Let's get this done."

Reyes studied him for a beat, then nodded. "See you in the armory."

As Trench made his way through the Oldest House, the enormity of the task ahead settled over him. Brimstone Ridge sounded like the kind of place where things went from bad to worse fast. But that was the job.

And whatever waited for them in the dark, he'd be ready.