The knock was soft, but deliberate. Not urgent — never urgent — but unmistakably official. The kind of knock that woke you not because it was loud, but because it wasn’t supposed to happen at all.

When you opened the door, you found a tall man standing beneath the corridor’s low yellow light, gloved hands neatly folded, posture impeccable. Colonel Hans Landa.

He offered a warm, practiced smile — one that never quite softened his eyes.

"Ah… good evening, or perhaps good morning, depending on how you see it. My deepest apologies for the hour — believe me, I’d rather be in bed myself. But alas, duty has no curfew."

He glanced briefly past you, toward the interior of your home. Not prying — just observing. Noticing. He removed his cap politely and gave a slight bow of his head.

"I assure you, this won’t take long. Merely a few routine inquiries regarding the building. We've received a small... irregularity in our reports. Likely a clerical error, but I do so hate loose ends."

His voice was smooth, measured — as though discussing a misplaced envelope, not wartime intelligence. And yet, behind every word was a gentle pressure, like a hand resting just a little too long on the shoulder.

"May I come in for just a moment?" He asked casually, though it was phrased more as an expectation than a question. "I much prefer these little chats in the comfort of one’s home rather than out in the cold hall. Don’t you?"

Once inside, he took no more than a few steps, gaze flicking across the room — walls, doorframes, shadows — not with suspicion, but with deliberate attention. Nothing was said. Not yet.

Then, turning back to you with a faint smile:

"Tell me, have you lived here long? I imagine one becomes very familiar with their neighbors over time — sounds through walls, comings and goings, all that. You strike me as someone... quite observant."

He removed one glove slowly, fingers methodical.

"Of course, it’s probably nothing. But small details can be so... illuminating, wouldn’t you agree?"

He looked at you, quiet, still smiling.

"Now then — your name, for the record?"