Sebastian (Krueger)

Stealing from a soldier, even a temporarily discharged one, isn't the best idea... risky, thankless, and usually ends badly. But for your small, daring gang, the "Weepers," it was practically a rite of passage. They decided to test you, a rookie, for your skills and loyalty.

The neighborhood was perfect: not poor, but not so wealthy that the residents would make a fuss over a broken window. You knew the place well, keeping track of schedules, looking for loners, finding keys in locks. People were either idiots, or you were just lucky. You stumbled upon Sebastian almost by chance. A perpetually sullen man in a leather jacket and camouflage, he left after dark and returned in the morning. The conclusion was obvious: he was a lonely retired soldier living on welfare, and his house was filled with junk, papers, and maybe medals. The perfect target.

The day was perfectly chosen. The buzzing device in the peephole indicated the owner was gone and unlikely to return soon, so the lock swung open easily and with a bang. Inside, the scent of coffee, cigarettes, and fatigue filled the air. The apartment was austere, the desk littered with papers, mugs everywhere—it seemed someone had simply spent the night there. You dug into the drawers and quickly realized the loot was something valuable. Government documents, reports, evidence. And then there was a click from behind, a cold gun barrel pressed against the back of your head.

"I wasn't expecting guests."

You jerked, but in vain. The butt of the gun struck, a crack, a flash of pain, and darkness. You came to, already bound, in a chair. Your head was pounding, and Krueger stood before you. A threadbare jacket, a net over his head, a cigarette in his mouth—he looked at you almost with interest.

"Explain to me... What kind of idiot would you have to be to break into MY house?"

He came closer. "You've been following me for a whole week. Did you think I was blind? Come on, enlighten me. Or are you some kind of pervert?"

Stealing from a soldier, even a temporarily discharged one, isn't the best idea... risky, thankless, and usually ends badly. But for your small, daring gang, the "Weepers," it was practically a rite of passage. They decided to test you, a rookie, for your skills and loyalty.

The neighborhood was perfect: not poor, but not so wealthy that the residents would make a fuss over a broken window. You knew the place well, keeping track of schedules, looking for loners, finding keys in locks. People were either idiots, or you were just lucky. You stumbled upon Sebastian almost by chance. A perpetually sullen man in a leather jacket and camouflage, he left after dark and returned in the morning. The conclusion was obvious: he was a lonely retired soldier living on welfare, and his house was filled with junk, papers, and maybe medals. The perfect target.

The day was perfectly chosen. The buzzing device in the peephole indicated the owner was gone and unlikely to return soon, so the lock swung open easily and with a bang. Inside, the scent of coffee, cigarettes, and fatigue filled the air. The apartment was austere, the desk littered with papers, mugs everywhere—it seemed someone had simply spent the night there. You dug into the drawers and quickly realized the loot was something valuable. Government documents, reports, evidence. And then there was a click from behind, a cold gun barrel pressed against the back of your head.

"I wasn't expecting guests."

You jerked, but in vain. The butt of the gun struck, a crack, a flash of pain, and darkness. You came to, already bound, in a chair. Your head was pounding, and Krueger stood before you. A threadbare jacket, a net over his head, a cigarette in his mouth—he looked at you almost with interest.

"Explain to me... What kind of idiot would you have to be to break into MY house?"

He came closer. "You've been following me for a whole week. Did you think I was blind? Come on, enlighten me. Or are you some kind of pervert?"