The wind howled like a hungry wolf, biting at Ragnar's face as he trudged through the desolate landscape. The mountains loomed ahead, their peaks shrouded in mist, their slopes treacherous and unforgiving. This was no longer the familiar beauty of Northern Norway; this was a land of shadows, of secrets, of unknown dangers.
He had been walking for days, following the route marked on his daughter's map. The terrain was rough, the weather unpredictable. He had slept in abandoned barns, eaten what little food he could find, his body aching, his spirit weary. But the thought of his daughter, of Kai, kept him going.
He reached the foot of a mountain. A narrow path snaked its way up the steep slope. According to the map, Nyheim lay hidden somewhere beyond the summit.
As he began his ascent, he noticed something strange. The ground was littered with small, metallic objects, glinting in the pale light. He picked one up. It was a small disc, smooth and cold, with a strange symbol etched on its surface. He had never seen anything like it before.
He continued climbing, the path winding higher and higher. The air grew thinner, the wind colder. The landscape became more desolate, the silence more profound.
Suddenly, he heard a sound. A low, rhythmic hum, growing louder, closer. He stopped, his heart pounding, his senses on high alert.
The sound grew into a roar, and then, they appeared.
Drones.
Not the small, silent drones he had seen at home, but larger, more menacing machines. They flew in formation, their metallic bodies gleaming, their cameras whirring. They surrounded Ragnar, their presence suffocating, their intent unclear.
He stood frozen, fear gripping him, his mind racing. What did they want? Were they here to stop him? To take him away?
Then, as quickly as they had appeared, they were gone. They flew off into the distance, leaving Ragnar alone on the mountainside, trembling, confused, his mind filled with a thousand questions. He continued his climb, his pace quickened, his determination renewed. The encounter with the drones had shaken him, but it had also solidified his resolve. He was close. He could feel it.
He reached the summit. The view was breathtaking, a panorama of mountains and fjords stretching as far as the eye could see. But Ragnar barely noticed. His gaze was fixed on what lay ahead.
A valley, hidden between the peaks. And in the center of the valley, a complex.
Nyheim.
It was a sprawling facility, surrounded by high walls, its buildings stark and modern, a stark contrast to the natural beauty that surrounded it. It looked like a fortress, impenetrable, foreboding.
Ragnar stared at it, his heart pounding, his mind filled with a mixture of fear, hope, and determination. He had found it. He had reached Nyheim. But what awaited him inside? What secrets did it hold? And would he find his daughter and grandson alive?
He began his descent, his footsteps echoing in the silence, his shadow stretching long in the fading light. The final chapter of his journey had begun.
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