The silence that followed his words was dense, as if the world itself had stopped breathing.Seck slowly lowered his hands, stepping away from Lars. His face, usually impassive, now showed a mix of pain, surprise, and resignation."Your daughter...?" he murmured, as if he needed to repeat it to believe it. "Lars... I had no idea."
"You didn't need to," Lars replied, his voice hard, jaw tense. "But now you know. And if you won't give me answers, I'll get them myself."
Seck sat down again, suddenly looking older than he had a moment before. The wind played with the dry leaves in the garden. His eyes wandered among the branches for a few seconds before he spoke.
"I'm truly sorry about what happened to your daughter…" Seck looked at Lars, whose expression had changed drastically from how it had been while staying at his home."Lars, revenge and hatred won't get you anywhere. I don't think your daughter would want to see you like this—wherever she is."
When Lars was with the family, he presented himself as a kind and friendly man—and even though he was like that in general, after everything that had happened, when he was alone, the resentment and hatred toward Florian and the Meyerns mafia was eating him alive. He knew how to hide his emotions.
"The Meyerns will pay for what they did. I'm not asking for your understanding, and I don't want to involve you either."
"Look at me, Lars. When you join Dominion, you lose control over many things. Over who lives… and who dies. I… saw and did things I'll carry with me for the rest of my life. But if you still want to join them, I won't stop you."
"I don't care. I just need to find them."
Seck nodded slowly, then looked at Lars with a hardness he hadn't shown before."Then don't ask me for help, because I'm not taking you to that hell. I'll say this and nothing more: if you truly want to find them… you'll know where to start. But every step you take, every truth you uncover, will eat away at you. There's no turning back, Lars."
"There already isn't," he whispered, turning away without saying another word.
Seck didn't stop him.
Hours later, Lars finished packing the few belongings he had. The house was quiet, and Rebecca, without saying much, simply offered him a hug before saying goodbye. She didn't ask where he was going or why he was leaving so suddenly—he was supposed to leave at night. Maybe Seck had said something to her. Or maybe she preferred not to know.
Then he said goodbye to the kids, and Seck waited for him at the door. Lars thanked him for everything, and as they said farewell, Seck handed him an envelope with money. Lars tried to refuse, but Seck insisted—and Lars took it.
Crossing the threshold, Lars felt a mix of relief and tension. He had taken the first step. And though he didn't yet know where the road would lead him, one thing was certain: he didn't plan to stop.
The apartment he had rented was small, barely furnished. A bed, a table, a chair, and a nearly empty fridge. But for Lars, it was enough. A hideout, a base. He closed the door, dropped his backpack, and collapsed onto the bed without even taking off his jacket. He closed his eyes.
That night he dreamed of fire… and screams he couldn't silence.
The morning sun woke him early. He got up, took a shower, and drank some instant coffee. Then, with the money Seck had given him, he went downtown. He walked with his head down, even though no one was looking for him—yet.
He bought what he needed: a black baseball cap, dark sunglasses, and a hoodie. Enough to stay unnoticed.
Later, he went to the station and bought train tickets to Munich. While on the train, he changed into the new clothes.
He arrived in Munich in the afternoon. The city felt strangely familiar and foreign at the same time. He didn't go to his old house. Instead, he headed to an old industrial building in the suburbs, where he had once met with his "clients." In one of the second-floor offices, under a dusty desk lamp, Lars moved a wooden panel on the floor. Beneath it, hidden under some boards, was a bag filled with cash—his emergency exit fund.
He found it just as he had left it—almost untouched. He opened it to confirm: one million euros in bills of various denominations. He smiled bitterly.
"Sometimes, being paranoid pays off."
He stuffed the bag into a large backpack and returned to the station. He took the train back to Ingolstadt. He arrived at night, exhausted, and fell asleep the moment he touched the bed.
A loud knock at the door woke him up. It was Marie. She smiled when she saw him, brought some homemade food, and they chatted for a while.
"How's everything going, Lars?""Pretty busy. I need to find a job. I like the apartment, but it's way too small."
While they talked, Lars remained distant but polite, avoiding details. She sensed something different in him but didn't ask.
When she left, Lars returned to his mission.
He went downtown and bought a new phone—unregistered. He got a SIM card from an electronics store and picked up a laptop. He also stopped by a discreet hardware shop where he bought a professional lockpick set. The essentials for what he had planned.
That same afternoon, he began to watch Seck's house.
From a street corner, hidden behind trees or seated at a nearby café, he observed. On the first day, Seck and Rebecca didn't leave. The second day, same thing. But on the third day, around noon, he saw the whole family—Seck, Rebecca, and the kids—get into the car and drive away.
It was his chance to return to the basement and gather more information about the organization.
Lars crossed the street, entered through the back of the property, pulled out the lockpick, and after a few tense seconds, opened the door without forcing it. He slipped in silently.
He headed straight to the basement, turned on the light, and with phone in hand, started taking photos of everything. Especially the book with encoded names, symbols, documents, and folders marked with dates and cities.
Some pages mentioned key terms like "Dominion," "Gusion," "The Ritual," "Sealing."
He took as many photos as he could. He felt like a thief, but there was no time for guilt.
Before leaving, he checked the shelf marked "PRIVATE" again. He saw new names, some written in red ink. Others were crossed out. And behind a folder, a hidden list: a chart with coordinates and what looked like upcoming dates.
He photographed that too.
He climbed the stairs, carefully locked the door again, and left the same way he had come in.
Lars returned to his apartment with a phone full of information. He shut the blinds and transferred all the photos to his computer, reviewing each image carefully.
Lars began searching the names online, but nothing came up. After a while, he decided to go into the dark web and started looking for things like Dominion, people's names, symbols, and more.
What he didn't know was that, at the same time in another part of the country, someone was monitoring shady connections to restricted forums. A member of Dominion, an expert in cyber-security, detected unusual activity.
"Who the hell is this user?""Gusion, they're looking for all of this…""Must be a detective or something."
Someone was digging into forbidden information. Now they knew someone had reopened parts of the past.
The server and the user were private, but since this Dominion member was a skilled hacker, he was able to trace where the searches were coming from. He picked up the phone.
"Klein, hey. We have to go to Ingolstadt tomorrow."