Felix almost said yes. But he remembered the warning: "Never share it." He remembered that the key didn’t just unlock automation—it unlocked every invoice, every bank connection, every client’s tax ID.
Felix stared at the generated string: lex-api-9f3k2d-8a1e4c-7b0f9d-2e5a6c . lexoffice api key
They named the script "Cerberus" because it guarded the gates of their workflow. Every Thursday, instead of manual data entry, Luca ran Cerberus. It used the API key to authenticate with Lexoffice’s servers, pulled the messy data, normalized it, and pushed clean invoices, contacts, and payments into the system. Felix almost said yes
Years later, when Luca became head of automation, Felix handed him a steel-engraved plaque. On it was etched: They named the script "Cerberus" because it guarded
Felix froze. "What did you say?"
Below it: "The day we stopped typing and started building."