Klein watched him silently for a few seconds. Finally, he spoke in a kind voice:
"We'll pick you up tomorrow at nine in the morning. Understood?"
Lars nodded wordlessly. Both men left the apartment without looking back.
When the door closed, Lars remained motionless. He closed his eyes and remembered the phrase Klein had said minutes earlier: "Something terrible happened to him."
Terrible! No... that had been beyond terrible. It had been inhuman.
He collapsed in the chair in front of his desk. His heart was still pounding; for a moment, he was sure he would die as soon as those two men entered and the door closed. But something disconcerted him: according to Seck, the Dominion men were extremely dangerous... and yet, after speaking with them, he hadn't felt that direct threat.
He didn't know if he could trust them. What he did know was that he was closer than ever to his goal.
He spent hours going over every word, every gesture, and every possible consequence of what had happened. Finally, he showered, ate something, and fell asleep. In the midst of the chaos, he'd completely forgotten that he was having dinner that evening with Seck, Marie, and the rest of the family. They'd called him several times, but his phone was still silent.
The next morning, he opened the curtains and saw Klein and Hermann waiting for him in the parking lot. They were both talking on the same phone, their expressions serious.
Lars quickly began packing what he considered most important: his daughter's framed photos and jewelry, all his research materials, his laptop—everything went into his backpack. Then he grabbed the purse with the money.
"Wow! It's ten to nine," Klein commented as he saw him approaching.
Klein held his gaze, as if assessing whether the comment about the time had caught him by surprise. "Get in the car, Berlin is far away," he ordered, opening the back door.
Lars obeyed. The engine started, and instead of taking the route to Berlin as he'd expected, they took a secondary road that wound through frost-covered fields.
"Where are we going?" Lars asked.
Hermann gave a short laugh without taking his eyes off the road.
"You'll find out soon enough."
During the drive, neither of them said much. Klein simply watched him in the rearview mirror, his expression uncomfortably neutral. Lars felt that she wasn't just looking at him, but observing him, as if searching for something beyond his gestures.
After about half an hour, they arrived at an abandoned building on the outskirts of a small town. The windows were boarded up, and the front door was hanging from a rusty hinge.
Hermann parked and turned to Lars. "Before we officially introduce you, we want to see what you're made of."
Lars frowned. "Do you see what I'm made of?"
Klein intervened, his tone much colder than the night before: "Dominion doesn't open its doors to just anyone. We want to make sure you're not a hindrance... or a threat."
Hermann opened the glove compartment and took out a pistol. He handed it to Klein.
"There's a woman inside who owes us something. We need you to go in and get her out. Alive."
Klein leaned toward him. "This isn't a game. If you can't handle this, you won't waste any more of our time."
Lars felt a knot in his stomach. It wasn't just the test: it was the knowledge that he was being evaluated, his every reaction judged.
"What if I don't accept?" he asked.
Hermann smirked. "Keep up that shitty attitude. Then we'll leave you here, and for your own good, don't ask about us again."
Lars noticed the cold gripping the abandoned place even more. Klein placed a heavy, well-calibrated semi-automatic weapon in his hand.
"Seven bullets per clip," he said, handing him two more. "Use them carefully."
Hermann smiled, though it wasn't a warm smile. "Oh... and if something goes wrong, no one will come after you."
Lars clenched his jaw and headed for the door, which creaked as he pushed it.
The metal door closed behind him with a thud.
Inside, the air was heavy, smelling of damp and rust. There were no walls, just a huge open space that left the entire first floor exposed. The ceiling was supported by worn columns, and at least twenty motionless bodies lay on the floor.
Lars clutched the pistol Klein had given him before entering. Seven bullets per clip, three in total, counting the one already loaded. He remembered the times he had accompanied Johan to the shooting ranges; that experience would now be his only ally.
In the distance, leaning against the opposite wall, a woman watched him silently.
Lars began to move forward, careful with each step, his gaze falling on the bodies. He didn't understand what had happened there... or why the place was so destroyed.
Suddenly, the woman began to move sideways, skirting the wall and moving away. Lars quickened his pace, trying to close the distance, but a noise behind him made him turn.
Nothing. Everything was the same.
When he looked ahead again, he didn't see one of the bodies slowly rising. Red eyes like embers glowed in the darkness.
Lars only realized when he felt the presence behind him. He turned sharply and saw it: a body that, seconds before, had lain dead, now walking toward him with its mouth open, showing teeth stained with dried blood.
The blinding red of its eyes paralyzed him for a split second.
The corpse ran toward him, trying to bite his neck, but Lars reacted in time: he raised his gun and shot it directly in the forehead. The body fell motionless.
Confused, his heart pounding in his chest, Lars barely had time to breathe before, slowly, all the other corpses began to rise to their feet... with those same red eyes.
"No..." he whispered, backing away.
The first one lunged at him, and a clean shot stopped him. The recoil of the gun ran down his arm, reminding him to count every bullet. One, two, three... every time he pulled the trigger, an enemy fell.
To his left, another came running. A quick twist, a headshot, a new hole in the magazine.He took cover behind a pillar to reload. His hands trembled, but he couldn't let a single one go.He switched magazines and went back outside. Bodies were approaching from all angles, surrounding him.
He advanced, firing, retreating when he felt trapped, always looking for an escape route.
One leaped at him, and he had to knock it down with a shove before finishing it off. Dark blood splattered his face.
His second magazine emptied. There was one more.
Breathing heavily, sweat burning in his eyes, Lars continued forward. The echo of each shot filled the building, until, finally, the last enemy fell. Silence returned.
A few meters away, the woman leaning against the wall watched him with unnerving calm.
Lars approached, still aiming.
"What the hell was that?" he asked between gasps.
"I don't know," the woman replied, her tone unchanged. "I was here right when it happened."
Lars frowned. He wasn't sure he believed her, but he didn't have time to argue either. He had one bullet left in the magazine, and he pointed it directly at woman's forehead.
"You're going out with me. And don't try anything funny."
The woman raised her hands with a half-smile, but said nothing. Deep down, she knew it had all been a ruse: she was responsible for those bodies. She had let Lars "defeat" them as part of his test.
An hour after Lars struggled with the corpses, the front door opened, and a beam of light blinded them.
Outside, Klein and Hermann waited. They saw the supposed stranger leave first and assumed the worst.
"He's dead," Hermann muttered.
But then, another figure appeared behind her: Lars, covered in dust and sweat, walking with the gun pressed against the woman's neck.
Klein barely smiled.
The ordeal was over. Lars kept the gun pointed at the woman's head until she reached the car. Klein and Hermann exchanged a quick glance, but neither said anything.
"I see you survived," Hermann commented with a half smile.
"Just a little," Lars replied, opening the back door without letting his guard down.
The woman he had rescued sat silently, and the atmosphere inside the car became tense. Klein started the engine and looked at Lars in the rearview mirror.
"Good work. Now... let's go to Berlin. There's someone who wants to meet you."
The drive was long and silent, interrupted only by the sound of the engine and Hermann's occasional murmur on the phone. Finally, after hours of traveling, the car entered a dense forest. Between the trees, an imposing structure began to appear: a stone palace, smaller than a real one, but just as majestic and full of mystery.
As he stepped out of the vehicle, Lars felt the air thicken. The massive doors slowly opened, revealing a well-lit living room with luxurious decor. In the center, a tall man, dressed in a long black coat and top hat, was waiting for them.
"Lars Braun..." he said in a deep voice that echoed off the walls. "Finally, we meet." The Dominion leader's gaze fixed on him with eerie intensity.
Lars remained silent, his gaze fixed.
"Tell me," the man continued, "how did you meet Seck?"
The question took him by surprise.
"How... do you know about Seck?" Lars replied cautiously.
"Don't underestimate what I know," the leader said, giving a faint smile. "If you were with him... he probably told you about us, too."
Lars felt a chill. He didn't respond. The man took a step forward; suddenly, everyone in the room stepped back. Lars didn't know why until Klein pushed him back.
"We'll talk more... very soon," the chief said.
The sharp sound of the doors closing behind Lars marked the end of that first meeting.