I

A curious building took up residence in the Old City. A building appearing at places of its interest. Shifting around the sprawling city, seeking out places where reality is unwound.

The building stood out among the soot covered surroundings. The walls, always a bright white colour, inspiring hope and a sense of understanding. Through the clean wood framed windows, visible greenery and orderly organised bookshelves and offices can be seen.

The curious building was of course, inhabited by curious individuals, members of the Old City Cleaners Guild. People who almost lost themselves to the madness of bleak city life, who had only a small amount of thread tying them to the ground, but found themselves dragged to this building, instead of losing themselves in the endless sprawl, wreaking havoc.

Being lost to unreality, for even a short time, is going to leave its marks. And it surely has on the Cleaners. A curious group even under the most normal circumstances, their bodies and minds shaped by the City’s madness.

Whenever the building shifted places, they went on patrol, aware that something or someone would be stalking the area. They are there to clean, if possible they try to bring the affected people back to reality and a semblance of sanity. If this was not possible however, they have no option but to clean up the mess in a more violent way.

II

Amelia sat inside her office at the guild, wooden marionette fingers dancing on the table in front of her as she reads the pile of documents in front of her. The serene scene is interrupted by a man loudly barging into the office.

The man was Silas, a gruff man with deep emerald eyes, greying hair, and scruffy facial hair. He walks roughly, making loud thuds with his cane.

“Good morning there, young lass. Brought you some papers from Florence’s place. Says she got someone you might be interested in.”, the man said in a thick accent which you rarely hear in the city nowadays.

“Just throw it on the pile, Silas”, she said pointing at the pile of documents, sitting on her table “, and tell Florence that we aren’t a charity. I can’t take care of every other kid whose head got a bit messy ‘cause of daddy issues.”

She sighed, this was the third such “recommendation” that Florence sent them just this month. She felt for the people Florence sent her way, but most of them were completely incapable of doing any work. The guild already sought out capable members on its own, and the reserve teams where her cases could only ever go were already over full. 

“Don’t write this one off yet, Ame. Saw her myself, if you can figure out what the hell happened to her out there, she’ll do just good for ya. Anyways, gotta go, lotsa work to do, messages to deliver.”

As he left, the door of her office opened up to an unknown city street, a gust of smoggy wind hit Amelia’s face, and the man was gone.

Out of curiosity, she skipped over her usual daily reports, and instead checked Florence's letter. 

It spoke of a girl who arrived at her place, delirious, but with a sharp look on her face. She encountered something on the street, got to the brink of becoming one such thing herself, and then walked herself all the way through the streets over to Florence. 

III

A time later, Silas came to the Cleaners again. Bringing a girl with silver hair, and eyes cold as steel.