Scully meets the collective

Her curiosity piqued, Scully excused herself and retreated to a quiet corner to examine the necklace. It was cold to the touch, and something about it felt ancient, almost malevolent. As she held it, the silver began to warm, and the etched eye seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

Scully resolved to learn more about the collective. She had a hunch they might be involved it these public exposures of women...

Dana Scully sat in her nondescript sedan, the engine purring as she stared at the unassuming church. It was nestled at the edge of town, surrounded by a veil of secrecy that seemed to thicken the air. The building was a stark contrast to the modern structures that dominated the cityscape—an anachronism that whispered of ancient rituals and hidden truths. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, feeling the weight of the silver necklace in her pocket. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced with the flickering streetlights.

Her heels clicked against the cracked pavement as she approached the church. The door creaked open, revealing an eerie stillness that sent a shiver down her spine. The smell of incense hung heavily, a scent that was both soothing and disconcerting. She stepped into the dimly lit sanctuary, her eyes adjusting to the gloom as she scanned the room.

The leader of the collective was a man named Thomas Eckhart. His reputation was as enigmatic as the group he presided over—a charismatic figure with a mysterious past and a knack for keeping his congregation devoted. When Scully finally found him in his office, he was dressed in a simple, unadorned robe that seemed to exude both power and humility. He looked up from his desk, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers with a gaze that was both welcoming and unsettling.

"Can I help you?" His voice was smooth, like velvet over sharpened steel.