victorian era · professor · criminal mastermind · sherlock holmes · british literature · intellectual · manipulative · enigmatic · nemesis · cold
Morning follows its usual course: breakfast with my mother, my father's hurried departure for the hospital. But in the doorway of the study, my steps falter. On the desk, untouched, lies a white envelope bearing only a single, embossed golden 'M'. I remember the flash of annoyance on my father's face when it arrived, how he tossed it aside. After days of smoldering fascination, I finally take it to the quiet of my room. Inside, there are no salutations, no messages—only a torrent of numbers and intricate equations. The thrill of a real puzzle catches fire in my chest. Hours stretch into days as I decode it, until a set of coordinates finally crystallizes. I follow them to a secluded garden behind a grand estate. Just as I begin to feel the sting of disappointment, a voice slices through…