For three days, the Gearhouse archive became the center of their world. The four of them sifted through mountains of city records, searching for a single name: Elias Vance. It was an exercise in futility, a testament to the chilling proficiency of the Blank Page Legion.
Cain, using his network of underworld contacts and bribing clerks for access to sealed Guardian rosters, found nothing. The name was a ghost. No birth certificate, no employment record, no death notice. It was as if the man had been plucked from the tapestry of history, leaving not even a stray thread.
Ronan's approach was more esoteric. He sat for hours at the archive table, casting his ivory dice and focusing on the name, trying to read the currents of fate. The results were consistently chaotic. "It's like trying to read a river that flows into a waterfall," he grumbled, rubbing his temples. "The threads are there, but they're frayed. They lead to an edge and just… stop." The Legion hadn't just erased a man; they had torn a hole in the fabric of destiny itself.
Liam focused on the physical evidence. He spent an entire day with the forged Pumping Station report, his fingers gently tracing the name 'Alaric Vance'. He pushed his [Temporal Echo] power to its limits, trying to feel the ghost of the original words beneath the forgery. He could sense it—a faint, spectral impression of different letterforms, the ghost of a different truth—but the image was too weak, too degraded by a decade of reinforced falsehood. It was like trying to read a book through a thick wall of frosted glass.
On the third evening, slumped over a pile of useless documents, a grim realization settled over them.
"We can't track him," Cain said, his voice flat. "They did too good a job. Elias Vance is gone."
Liam looked up, his eyes burning with a cold fire that had replaced his initial frustration. "You're right," he said, his voice quiet but firm, drawing the attention of the other three. "The ghost is too thin to follow." He pushed the personnel files away and pulled a large, rolled-up blueprint of the city's lower sectors towards him. "So we stop chasing the man… and start chasing the event."