Chapter 20 – Culmination!

Ulrich stands in his room before the mirror, fastening the last button of his shirt. For a moment he studies his reflection, then picks up a comb and slowly brushes his hair to the side. Above him the shape of his essence appears – the masked butcher – patiently sharpening knives.

In another room Gobby is already dressed in a new black tactical suit.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he tightens the laces of his boots, pulls the knot firm, then lets himself fall backward onto the mattress and stares at the ceiling while Deda’s voice appears somewhere within him, asking, Are you all right? Gobby exhales slowly and answers, I feel great… just help us get through this day. Deda snorts at that and replies, Are you stupid or something? Of course I will.

In the next room German is ready as well. His gear resembles Gobby’s, though lighter. A tactical vest lies across his chest, lined with thin darts that resemble syringes prepared for injection. Two awls are fixed across his back, and a small gas canister hangs from the belt at his waist. German walks slowly from one side of the room to the other while above him looms his essence – the Logician – calmly turning the pages of a notebook.

Ulrich finishes combing his hair, places a short-brimmed cap on his head, briefly crosses himself and steps out into the corridor, raising his voice so the whole house can hear him, It’s time. Let’s go.

Doors open. One by one they leave their rooms and gather behind him.

German stops them and says that he spent hours analyzing the tower, yet one thing still makes no sense – who exactly guards the Lord. There is a guard at the bottom of the skyscraper, but the top floor and the suite itself remain a blind spot. Someone like the Lord would never rely on ordinary security. The floor must be filled with cameras and motion sensors, likely autonomous. Cutting the power will change nothing. So the only real option is diversion. They will fake a fire.

He continues that a man of the Lord’s status should have at least three guards – one supervisor and two fighters. The plan is simple. They spread smoke grenades, put on gas masks and wait until security comes to inspect the alarm.

Gobby frowns slightly and asks, And if they don’t come?

German replies calmly. According to protocol, once the alarm triggers they first contact the guard downstairs. If nothing is wrong there, someone still has to inspect the floor. He adds that he studied the building plan carefully. There is only one exit from the Lord’s suite. If Gobby takes the stairs and I come up by elevator, every route can be blocked..

Ulrich looks at him for a moment and then asks, And how exactly do you get inside without the guard downstairs noticing?

German allows himself a faint smile and answers quietly, I’ll show you.

A guard sits in the security room watching the surveillance monitors. The screens show nothing unusual – empty corridors, elevators moving slowly between floors, the quiet lobby below. Then suddenly the sharp sound of brakes echoes from outside, followed by a heavy crash as a car slams into the water hydrant near the entrance.

The guard jumps up immediately and heads outside to see what happened. As the door opens and he steps out, two shadows slip past him unnoticed. Gobby and German move quickly through the lobby and disappear into one of the elevators. German presses the button for the forty-third floor and the doors slide shut.

Outside, Ulrich leans against the damaged car, holding his head as if dizzy. The guard approaches cautiously and asks, Do you need help, sir? Ulrich grimaces and answers weakly, Something’s wrong with me… I must be getting old. Probably time to stop driving. The guard studies him and asks, Should I call an ambulance? Ulrich shakes his head slightly and replies, No… water will be enough. But we should probably call the police. The guard nods and gestures toward the building. Come inside. I’ll bring you water and take care of it.

They enter the lobby together. The guard seats Ulrich on one of the couches and walks to the desk to get water while dialing the police at the same time.

Meanwhile the elevator reaches the forty-third floor. German looks at Gobby for a moment, pulls him into a brief friendly embrace and quietly tells him, Take care of yourself. Gobby nods, steps out of the elevator and disappears toward the staircase. German presses the button for the forty-fourth floor.

Back in the lobby Ulrich sits calmly on the couch drinking water while the guard explains the accident to the police over the phone. Suddenly the fire alarm erupts throughout the building. The guard rushes to the surveillance monitors. On the control panel one of the sensors flashes – forty-fourth floor. The moment he sees the number he immediately ends the call with the police.

Almost instantly the desk phone rings. He picks it up. Ulrich hears a woman’s voice on the other end while the guard answers quickly, Yes, ma’am… the sensor has already been reset. Yes… I see it. On your floor-

At that moment one of the elevator cameras shows its doors opening and closing on the forty-fourth floor. Smoke begins pouring out from inside the elevator.

The woman continues speaking. The guard switches to the elevator camera feed. The entire interior is filled with smoke and near the control panel something sparks and burns. He answers into the phone, It might be an electrical short in the elevator. Everything’s filled with smoke, I can’t see clearly… Yes, ma’am, but I’m not allowed to leave my post according to protocol. He pauses, listening. I understand. I’m sorry. I’ll call electricians and firefighters immediately.

The voice on the phone responds again. The guard nods automatically and says, Understood. I’ll wait for further instructions and keep monitoring the cameras.

In the confusion he forgets the car, the police and even Ulrich sitting quietly in the lobby. Ulrich watches him and thinks that German really is a genius.

A moment later two police officers enter the lobby, a man and a woman. They approach the desk and are about to question the guard when he raises his hand sharply and cuts them off, saying, Stop. Take the old man outside and deal with your problem there.

The female officer looks ready to argue, but the guard stands up and says something about the alarm on the forty-fourth floor. That is enough. The officers exchange a glance and walk toward Ulrich instead.

Ulrich rises slowly and follows them toward the exit. Outside, the male officer turns toward him and begins to speak, Sir, could you describe what happ- He never finishes the sentence. Ulrich moves with sudden precision and strikes the man with the blunt side of a knife across the carotid artery. The officer collapses instantly. In the next moment Ulrich knocks the woman unconscious just as quickly, drags both bodies into the police car and switches off the flashing lights so they will not attract attention.

Then he calmly walks back into the lobby.

The guard glances up from the monitors and snaps irritably, I told you to stay outside.

Ulrich gives an apologetic shrug and replies, Sorry… they told me to wait here.

The guard mutters something under his breath and returns his attention to the surveillance screens.

German crouches in the corner of the elevator, waiting in absolute stillness. A gas mask hides his face. In his left hand he holds a small spray canister, in his right an awl. The elevator hums quietly as it reaches the floor. Then he hears it – the sharp click of a door lock somewhere in the corridor, followed by the faint sound of a door opening. Without moving he speaks calmly into the earpiece, Gobby, are you ready? A short pause answers him – Yes. German tightens his grip on the awl and replies softly, I count to three. Then we move. Three… two… one.

At that exact moment the stairwell door bursts open and Gobby launches forward. German explodes out of the elevator after him, both of them moving in perfect combat readiness as smoke drifts across the corridor. They emerge through the haze – and German hesitates for a fraction of a second. According to every calculation, an experienced guard should have been waiting here. Instead, standing in front of them is a young man – slender, almost delicate, with the polished appearance of a fashion model. He wears silk pajamas and soft slippers decorated with fur pompoms. Gobby senses no threat and simply rushes past him toward the suite door.

German regains control instantly. He pulls a dart from his vest and prepares to strike, but the young man, overwhelmed by terror, loses consciousness before he can even react. German slows slightly as he steps past the body. The robe has fallen open just enough to reveal a tattoo on the chest – a crossed-out number three with a one above it.

For a brief moment he thinks, What an abomination. Then he moves on and enters the suite.

The moment he crosses the threshold, the Logician inside him screams of danger. If German had been alone, he would have retreated immediately. But Gobby is already inside. German steps forward into the living room where Gobby stands several meters ahead, frozen in a low defensive stance like an animal sensing a predator. The atmosphere presses down on them with crushing weight. German feels it the moment he takes his first step into the room.

The Lord sits in an armchair near the window. His legs are spread slightly apart, elbows resting on his knees, his head lowered just enough that his eyes remain hidden in shadow. The temperature in the room rises with terrifying speed, the air itself turning heavy and almost blood-red with heat. Beside him stands Giselle, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder. She looks almost unbearably sensual, flushed with excitement. The skin of her hand slowly begins to burn against the heat radiating from him, yet she does not pull away. She watches the intruders calmly and smiles before speaking softly, Since you are our uninvited guests, the first thing I must ask is that you remove your shoes.

Gobby steps forward without hesitation and answers coldly, Shut up. You’re about to die.

The reaction is immediate. The Lord seems to explode with fury at such insolence. The oxygen in the room nearly burns away as the temperature surges violently upward. Giselle immediately wraps her arms around him and whispers soothingly, Easy… easy. They are still children. But look how much passion they have.

At that moment Ulrich enters the room behind them. Two knives appear in his hands. For the first time his voice carries real anger as he addresses the Lord, We served you faithfully… and you ordered Vann to be killed. My final target is you. I will avenge Vann.

Suddenly the temperature drops back to normal. Giselle releases the Lord and turns slightly aside, calmly adjusting herself as if nothing had happened. The Lord slowly rises to his feet, and only now do they fully understand the scale of his presence. He begins to laugh loudly, the sound filling the entire room. Then he looks at them with cold amusement. Do you truly imagine yourselves heroes… and me the villain of your story? His voice becomes quieter. Who gave you the right to decide anything in this world? What made you believe you were doing the right thing? And what made you believe you were capable of anything at all?

German hears those words and suddenly understands something unsettling. This is not arrogance. The Lord speaks with the calm certainty of someone whose arguments carry real weight. For the first time German becomes aware of his own weakness, as if he is standing before something vast and immeasurably powerful. The Lord watches them with cold amusement and says that they are already the second group today to come looking for justice, but it is only their justice and only they believe in it. Then he turns his head slightly and calls, Giselle.

She immediately understands the gesture. Her skin shows no trace of burns now. She walks to the nearby table, takes a tray and carefully places it into the Lord’s outstretched hand. On the tray rests an object covered with a white cloth. With a small movement he pulls the cloth away.

A severed head lies on the tray – Drogo’s, still wet with blood. The Lord lifts it by the hair, throws it toward them and says calmly, Another man who believed in his own justice… just like you.

Giselle opens the door to the suite. The Lord enters behind her, and the young man follows quietly after them. Inside the room Drogo is already waiting.

The essence within him evaluates the situation instantly – Three. Her. Him. And another man. The boy smells wrong – too weak, too sweet. No threat.

Giselle steps forward into the room. The Lord follows her – and in the same instant Drogo appears from behind the corner. The scalpel flashes upward and stops at the Lord’s throat. Drogo pulls him one step backward until his own back presses against the wall, forcing the Lord with him. His voice is low and steady as he speaks. I have waited many years for this moment. Now you will finally pay for destroying my life.

He stands behind the Lord with the blade against his neck. The young man freezes in panic, his face twisting in hysteria as he almost begins to scream. Giselle slowly raises one finger into the air. Instantly the young man clamps both hands over his own mouth, forcing the cry back down his throat. Then she turns her eyes to Drogo. Tears suddenly appear in them and her voice trembles softly. My love… you finally came to save me. She wipes the tears away.

For a moment Drogo weakens. His shoulders soften and moisture gathers in his eyes. Giselle gently wipes her tears away – and then her face changes. Her lips stretch into a sharp grin. Is that what you wanted to hear? Did you really believe I was taken from you? That someone made me his? No. I chose this.

The memories return in fragments – the park, the lecture hall, films in bed, shared ice cream, laughter, sex. A small life that once felt complete. Then another memory emerges. Giselle walking toward the university one morning. A car stops near the curb. The door opens and the Lord steps out. Something changes inside her instantly – not in words, not even in thought, but somewhere deeper, on the level of pure chemistry. Desire. Obsession. Hunger.

From that moment every step moves her closer to the Lord. One partner replaces another, each with more power than the last. Better clothes. More expensive things. Less time with Drogo. Fewer classes. Then none at all. Eventually Drogo decides to follow her. On that day he watches her step into the Lord’s car. After that she simply disappears from his life without explanation, without goodbye. Drogo draws his own conclusions.

Now Giselle stands only a few steps away from him. She tells him to understand one simple thing: the Lord did not take her. She wanted to belong to him, and she did everything necessary to make that happen. She moves closer with each sentence, every word cutting deeper into Drogo’s mind, every step destroying another piece of the world he built around his revenge. There was never enough in you.

She stops a short distance from him and continues in the same quiet voice. He did nothing to me. I always wanted more than you – more than the small world you believed was enough. You were happy with a quiet life beside someone you loved. Her eyes grow colder. But I evaluated my potential very differently.

The same memories return – the park, the lecture hall, the nights in bed – but now from Giselle’s side. In every scene her smile looks more forced, her eyes emptier. The happiness Drogo remembers was never shared equally. She laughed for him, leaned into him, kissed him, lay beside him, while inside she felt only growing dissatisfaction. His world was warm, quiet and far too small. Even then she knew it would never be enough.

As Giselle speaks she slowly approaches the Lord and Drogo, placing her hand calmly over the scalpel and gently guiding it away from the Lord’s throat. The Lord offers no resistance. He simply steps aside, walks across the room, pours himself a glass of cognac and sits down in the armchair to watch what unfolds. Giselle turns back to Drogo and moves closer until only the distance of a kiss separates them. Drogo’s voice is barely audible as he asks, Then why were you with me? Giselle looks at him quietly before answering, Because you were happy, and for a while I tried to believe that was enough. I believed in devotion, sacrifice, change. Then I met him. At that moment the illusion shattered, and I finally listened to what I truly wanted.

She gently takes the hand holding the scalpel, raises it to the level of his throat and slowly turns the blade toward Drogo himself. My love, she says calmly, you lived inside a lie that you created yourself. The fact that you never saw the truth only means the lie was comfortable for you. So finish this false story.

Drogo’s hand begins to move. The scalpel touches his own throat. Inside his mind the essence erupts, screaming, Kill that lying bitch. She’s manipulating you. Then the moment is gone. Giselle is no longer there. A piano wire tightens around Drogo’s throat. On Giselle’s signal, the young man has already pulled it into place and is drawing it tight by the handles. Drogo forces his fingers under the wire, but it only cuts deeper. A second later the tension wins and his head is severed.

The memory collapses and the present returns. German freezes at the sight of Drogo’s head. For a moment his mind stops. No calculation predicted this. The objective had already been reached. The contract with Ulrich should have ended there. Yet the Logician inside him screams that the situation is hopeless and that his friend will die anyway. For the first time German feels the limit of logic. Fear rises in him together with something worse – respect.

The Lord notices German’s face at once and tells Giselle calmly, Your patient. After all, you did earn that psychology degree for something. Then he begins walking slowly toward Ulrich and Gobby.

Gobby feels the same crushing pressure that German felt, but the essence within him reacts differently. Like a cornered animal it chooses attack. His defensive mechanism activates automatically as moisture begins evaporating from his body and the muscles contract violently while his form begins to transform. The Lord stops and watches with curiosity, saying softly, Hmm. Interesting. Gobby’s body transforms for almost a full minute. When it ends, one arm has hardened into a spike, the other into a hammer. He drops onto all fours. Ulrich gives only one command: Attack.

Gobby launches forward. The Lord catches him instantly. One hand grips the spike. The other closes around the hammer arm. Then he squeezes. Flesh chars at once. Deda tries to restore the tissue, but it burns faster than it can heal. Pain tears a scream from Gobby and throws his head back. When it comes down again, the Lord drives his forehead into Gobby’s face – the same kind of headbutt Gobby once used in the alley while protecting German. This time he is the one receiving it. The blow knocks him unconscious immediately.

While Gobby keeps the Lord occupied, Ulrich tries to come in from the left. He never even gets the first step. A wire tightens around his neck. The young man is already behind him.