Leonard’s ideas, although different in the exact specifics, weren’t far apart in nature to what Lars had thought. The omniscience implied in ‘those who see everything’ was reminiscent of gods from religions on earth—while Leonard, too, suspected the phrase to reference higher powers. However, it was not limited to orthodox gods.

It was expressed that there are many unknown entities in this world; even the orthodox churches, with deities both famous and respected world-wide, were laden with mysteries. The full extent of what lies deep in the farthest corners of the universe isn’t something mortals can fathom. Regardless of who the phrase referred to, both of the two certainly found it ominous. Furthermore, what did it mean to be unseen by an omniscient entity?

Their brief meeting ended soon. The call had been sudden, so Lars’ assistant, Leonard, left nearly as quickly as he came. Lars himself was hardly busied throughout the day as he went through the motions, and as such, the day ended uneventfully with nothing new or seemingly abnormal or suspicious making an appearance.

He lied beside his stranger-wife, lying in this bed he still hadn’t quite gotten used to, for it was too large, comfy, and clean, and nothing other than falling asleep to meet the next day was left to do. Later, in a dark hour, sometime in the middle of the night, Lars found himself abruptly awoken by a consecutive series of thuds hitting their bedroom door.

The knocking continued after he had already been aroused from sleep. It was persistent and frequent, forbidding those inside the room from not noticing or ignoring the late call. Furrowing his brows, Lars took a cursory glance at the woman in his bed; Vanessa laid beside him, completely unperturbed, sleeping peacefully while the heavy knocking kept going.

How aren’t you awake yet? Even if you are a deep sleeper, this shouldn’t be possible to sleep through… Lars thought, becoming wary. But it was only him who could answer it, so he slowly pulled himself out of bed, walking over to the door.

When enough time had passed for him to leisurely, carefully, and soundlessly climb out of bed, to then approach the door, the constant knocking didn’t stop knocking; sounding louder and louder as the door was a step away, perhaps more aggressive now than before.

Could it detect his presence through the wood?

Or was it simply desperate?

Lars shook his head, realising the paranoia of a prolonged silence was getting to him. Leonard, Siegfried, the voice—all of the abnormalities observed so far since Victoria had been internal. Nothing external had approached him yet, despite the various signals indicating that something would.

He grabbed hold of the door’s handle in one brave go. Swinging it open, peeking out ever so slowly and looking around carefully, only an empty hallway revealed itself. There was no one on the other side of the door. Despite the knocking continuing all the way until Lars had grasped the handle, and he had opened the door wide in an instant, he found no person waiting for him. Where was the one responsible for knocking on his door?

An imperceptible frown settled on his face. He scanned the darkness thoroughly, not limiting himself to what was directly ahead; he searched the immediate vicinity, stared down the desolate hallway, watched the ceiling for signs of movement, ensured nothing breached their room in the slight moment he invited it in. Never had he been so superstitious to consider such things—but his common sense was degrading by the day.

It wasn’t hard to recall Siegfried’s inhuman, unhinged face, gorging on a massive plate of food—a vivid picture presented itself in his mind. Leonard also happened to possess a wealth of knowledge he shouldn’t, and although he was prepared to use him to his advantage, doubt and uncertainty assailed him. Was this assistant even human? What was a human, anyway?

Lars scratched his head, before slowly closing the door and returning to bed. Vanessa hadn’t so much as shown disrest from the loud noise. Nothing was there, as if the knocking had been a figment of the imagination, and perhaps… it was.

In this situation, he could only lament. Was he still there, stuck on a battlefield, deep in a trench, hiding in a field, waiting for a single gunshot, a stray bullet, a well-placed shell, an explosion, a catastrophe to come upon him? This time—would he watch Vanessa, Damien, Charles; perhaps even Siegfried or Leonard; or any of the servants, staff, maids; would he witness them die cruel, sudden deaths for insignificant reasons?

Or would he be the first to perish this time?

With such thoughts on his mind, Lars lulled himself to sleep. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. He laid beside his wife, Vanessa. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. He recalled the father-son training with Damien. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. He helped Charles with his education. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. He discussed business with Leonard. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. He relaxed himself, forgetting to put on airs, as he talked about random topics with Siegfried. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Try not to die.” “You better live, you bastard.” “Don’t leave your family behind.” “Dad…?” “Father, are you feeling alright?” “Lars...?”

Lars opened his eyes. He looked around, meeting the same exact scene, his bedroom in the dark. The night had yet to pass but the difference this time was clear. He knew, immediately, without needing evidence or anything else, that this was a dream. It came as a surprise, however, as he never recalled experiencing a lucid dream before.

There was no sound this time. A quick, subtle, but perhaps frightened glance to his left showed that Vanessa was beside him. Even in his dream, she was still where she should be; sleeping soundlessly, her eyes were closed, without worry or concern. There was relief upon seeing her because, for a moment, he believed that she wouldn’t be there.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Repeating his actions, Lars slowly got out of bed, taking care not to wake Vanessa. He was soon standing before the door again with his hand outstretched. The eerie quiet, devoid of the incessant knocking, for some reason made it much harder to grasp the handle and pull open the door. If nothing was there in the presence of knocking… what would be there when silence encompassed the room?

Lars held onto the handle and pulled. Then, he pushed, struggling to achieve the desired result. His agitated movements quickly proved to be futile. He had expected it to open and almost saw it do as such. However, in reality, the door didn’t budge in the slightest. It remained firmly rooted in its position and refused to open.

“It’s… not opening now…?” Lars asked through bated breaths. The door wasn’t locked, and its handle wasn’t broken, so was something on the other side?

Leaning against the door, Lars tried his best to hear what was going on. In comparison to reality, this was happening in a dream, so ordinary logic may not apply; but he needed to know the significance of the door in his dream and how it may correspond to reality. Was something on the other side? Was it alive? Was it waiting for him? Was it keeping him here? Is Vanessa involved?

A faint breathing entered his ear. Then, words slowly became audible through the closed door. It spoke in the faintest, weakest voice it could, repeating, “Lars, Lars, Lars…” over and over.

As he listened, his eyes widened and he uncontrollably directed his gaze back to the bed. Vanessa remained sleeping peacefully without disturbance. She hadn’t moved a muscle in all this time, so how... How was she speaking to him from the other side of the door? This voice undoubtedly belonged to Vanessa!

Before he could leave the proximity of the door, Vanessa spoke again, “The closet… don’t look inside the closet.”

The dream immediately came to an end after hearing as such. Lars found himself waking up again, the sun risen and the morning there to greet him. Vanessa hadn’t left her dreams yet and was lying beside him; however, he didn’t know how to behave or what to do. Had it really been Vanessa knocking on his door?

No… That makes no sense, Lars quickly dismissed the idea. The dream was able to ignore logic and reality, making anything happen. It didn’t follow reason and instead served entirely to act upon his fears. Whoever knocked on his door, it couldn’t have been her; she was sleeping next to him the entire time.

The next target of focus quickly became a closet in the corner of their room. Furniture was spread throughout, with various purposes, but when referring to ‘the closet’, only one item came to mind. There weren't multiple that could be classified as such. However, what could be so special about it? Did it hold any actual significance? The dream originated from his own mind so… had he ever heard mention of it?

Lars couldn’t recall. He slowly, but with a more hurried pace than before, climbed out of bed and approached the closet. The Vanessa in his dream, who was hiding behind the bedroom door and speaking in the most faint, weak voice he had heard her speak in, had warned him not to look inside.

With his hand lingering over it, frozen in his decision between opening it or not, someone called out to him. “Lars,” they said in a tired, confused voice. “Is everything alright?”

He turned around to see Vanessa who had woken up at some point. Shaking his head, he approached her and dismissed her concern, “Everything’s perfectly fine.”

Vanessa’s eyes were hazy as she replied, “Okay. Then, can you come back to bed…?”

“Alright…” Lars hesitantly agreed. He didn’t mind lying back down with her, but the idea reminded him of the dream. Falling asleep and returning there was to be avoided.

With his return underneath the covers, Lars found himself with a lot to think about; he tried to guess who might have really knocked on his door at night, or if anyone had even knocked in the first place. It was possible that he was simply too stressed. He couldn’t help but lament, as he had countless times, how utterly unprepared Rhys had left him before sending him through the singularity.

While in thought, Lars suddenly felt a weight against his chest. He looked down to find Vanessa leaning against him all of a sudden. As he was about to speak, she muttered, “Lars…”

“Yes?” Lars asked.

“This week…” Vanessa started, “I’ve been very happy. You’ve changed a lot, and I can tell it’s not completely spontaneous. There’s been a burden on you… and you’ve been trying to change despite it. I know more than anyone how hard you’ve been working to be a good father… and husband…”

Listening to her, Lars remained silent.

“But…” she added, “I get… really scared, sometimes. Every now and then, there’s this distant look in your eyes. I think frightening thoughts—that I can’t recognise you… It’s as if you’ve gone somewhere far away. And…

Her voice choked, but her face remained obscured, buried in Lars chest, “I worry. I worry that you’re going to disappear. That something really bad is going to happen.”

Lars was hesitant to speak, never expecting her to come so close to the truth. He could only respond solemnly, “Vanessa…”

Vanessa then muttered in a broken voice, “Please... Don’t look inside the closet…”