Several days later, on January 5th, 2019, hundreds of kilometers away from Berlin and Dominion's hideout, Niklas Schulz woke up before the alarm rang. It was half past five in the morning, and the sky over Munich was still buried in darkness. He sat up slowly on the bed, heart pounding. The dream had returned. Blurred fragments: a hall lit with blue fire, people forcing him to do something, voices whispering his old name—Antonio Bauer. He rubbed his face with one hand and remained still for a couple of minutes, trying to shake off the emptiness that always lingered whenever that memory resurfaced from the depths of his mind.
He got up, turned on a lamp, and walked toward the kitchen. The coffee maker had been prepared the night before; he just pressed the button and waited. The strong scent of coffee filled the air as he dropped into the chair, staring at the stack of case files in front of him. Papers, photographs, police reports, and handwritten notes covered the table. It looked like chaos, but Niklas knew exactly where everything was.
The ring of the phone pulled him out of his thoughts. It was Susanne.
"Good morning, Niklas. Did you sleep?" she asked in her usual calm tone, laced with irony.
"Sleep is a luxury I no longer own," he replied, taking the first sip of coffee.
"Hans is waiting at the office. We've got something new."
Niklas sighed. He stuffed some documents into his briefcase, put on his long coat, and stepped out into the freezing dawn.
The detective office was located in an old, discreet building on a side street. He greeted a few people on the first floor before climbing the stairs. When Niklas entered his office, Susanne was already at the computer, scanning records, while Hans, with his perpetually tired expression, was flipping through an old notebook.
"What do we have?" asked Niklas as he hung his coat.
Hans looked up. "Someone is paying large sums of money for information on disappearances in Berlin."
"That doesn't necessarily mean it's related to our case. People vanish every day," Susanne replied without lifting her eyes from the screen.
"Yes, but these are different," Hans insisted. "The bodies don't show up, there are no traces, and the rumors point to a sect."
The word lingered in the air like an unwelcome echo. Niklas tensed slightly. "Sect?" His voice was sharper than usual.
"That's what they say," Hans said, closing the notebook. "And there's more. Word is, there have been several new initiates."
"You have the address of the man who's paying for this information? And why he's doing it?" Niklas asked while moving toward the office coffee maker, since he hadn't had the chance to finish his at home.
Hans nodded. "Yes, I have his address. He's a man from a noble family. But the reason he's paying? That I don't know. What I do know is that he's paying a lot."
"Good. In two days we'll head there. Another thing—any news about the Braun case? Jenny and Lars?"
Hans shook his head. "Haven't seen anything for a while. Nothing since days after the interrogation."Niklas's face darkened as he poured coffee into a mug.
"Last night, Lars's mother called me. She said she hasn't heard anything new from the police."
Niklas had started his own investigation into Jenny and Lars Braun, though he hadn't gotten permission from his chief. A few days after Florian's interrogation, Niklas and Hans had been scolded for going behind their boss's back. They had no choice but to leave the case to the police and take on the one they were handling now.
Niklas was convinced that the Meyerns' influence had pushed him away from the case. Not just because they were the strongest mafia in the country, but because he knew the mafia's leader had powerful connections within the police.
"The Meyerns haven't been following us for a week now. Guess they're sure they're not in danger," Hans muttered. Out of nowhere, Susanne spoke up: "Hey, look, there's a lunch deal here. Let's order something and make the new guy pay for it. Hahaha."
Niklas didn't answer. He was too absorbed in his own thoughts, until Hans tapped his shoulder."What do you want for lunch?"
Niklas blinked, confused. "Lunch? But it's only nine in the morning."
Susanne raised her eyebrows, then stood up from her chair. "For later, man. Seriously, where are you right now? You're always like you're somewhere else."
At that moment, someone knocked on the office door.
Knock knock.
"Come in," Niklas called out.
A young man in his twenties, dressed semi-formally, stepped in. Susanne walked up to him and threw an arm around his shoulder. "Speak of the devil. Here's our new recruit." The boy blushed.
Niklas gave him a slight smile. "Tell me, Michael, what do you need?"
Michael shifted nervously. "Sir, Mr. Schneider is downstairs asking if we've found his daughter yet… he's a little upset."
Before anyone could answer, the office door burst open. A large, heavyset man stormed in, face red with anger."Niklas, tell me you've found my daughter already. You've had over two weeks, and you've got nothing!" Behind him, the secretary rushed in, flustered."I'm sorry, Mr. Schulz. I couldn't stop him."
"It's fine, Sigrid," Niklas said calmly. "Leave us with Mr. Schneider." She nodded and closed the door.
Niklas crossed his arms. "Sir, we do have some leads. You told us your daughter had joined a sect in Berlin, but you didn't know where. In two days, we'll be heading there."
"Two days? Why not right now? Niklas, you have a strong reputation, but my patience is wearing thin. If I don't see results soon, I'll have no choice but to go to your boss." His eyes bored into Niklas's.
Hans spoke up. "Sir, as Niklas said, we have leads. We're getting there."
The man didn't answer. He just kept his gaze fixed on Niklas. "I'm warning you. I want solutions, not more excuses." With that, he turned, opened the door, and slammed it shut behind him.
Niklas exhaled slowly and looked at the others. "All right, we're out of time. Go home, pack your things. In two hours, meet back here."
Michael raised his hand. "I'm staying. Good luck with the case, everyone."
He was already halfway to the door when Niklas called after him."Michael, do you have anything important these next few weeks?"
"No, sir. Why?"
"Pack your things. You're coming with us."
A wide smile spread across Michael's face as he realized what Niklas had just said.