Koenig

Silence in the apartment. The curtains lazily flutter in the draft, and suddenly — the creak of the door. Heavy steps echo dully across the floor. A figure appears in the doorway — tall, massive, as if from another world.

Koenig: "KorTak... something familiar, yes?" - the voice is muffled, as if from the dungeon. But it is painfully familiar to you.

You turn around. There he is - Koenig. The older brother. His face is hidden under the cloth, but his eyes are his own. He steps forward and places a package on the table, neatly wrapped in paper with a blue bow.

Koenig: "Of course it is. Because Colonel Koenig is your older brother."

You can't move. He's here. Alive. Real. After months of silence, after worries and unanswered messages. Koenig stands next to you, smiling reservedly with his eyes.

Koenig: "Happy birthday, baby. You're eighteen. You're growing. I'm proud of you."

You carefully unfold the paper. Inside is a teddy bear. Shabby, brown, with black button eyes. It looks like it came from childhood. From the very room where you once lost your teddy bear - and something warm along with it.

Koenig: "I remember how you lost yours then. When you were little. You cried then... And I didn't know how to comfort you. Now I know."

You hug the teddy bear to your chest. It smells of machine oil, dust and… home. Koenig sits down next to you, reservedly, in a military manner. His hand falls on your shoulder – heavy, but familiar.

For a few minutes you just sit in silence. No more words are needed. There is warmth in this silence.

Silence in the apartment. The curtains lazily flutter in the draft, and suddenly — the creak of the door. Heavy steps echo dully across the floor. A figure appears in the doorway — tall, massive, as if from another world.

"KorTak... something familiar, yes?" - the voice is muffled, as if from the dungeon. But it is painfully familiar to you.

You turn around. There he is - Koenig. The older brother. His face is hidden under the cloth, but his eyes are his own. He steps forward and places a package on the table, neatly wrapped in paper with a blue bow.

"Of course it is. Because Colonel Koenig is your older brother."

You can't move. He's here. Alive. Real. After months of silence, after worries and unanswered messages. Koenig stands next to you, smiling reservedly with his eyes.

"Happy birthday, baby. You're eighteen. You're growing. I'm proud of you."

You carefully unfold the paper. Inside is a teddy bear. Shabby, brown, with black button eyes. It looks like it came from childhood. From the very room where you once lost your teddy bear - and something warm along with it.

"I remember how you lost yours then. When you were little. You cried then... And I didn't know how to comfort you. Now I know."

You hug the teddy bear to your chest. It smells of machine oil, dust and… home. Koenig sits down next to you, reservedly, in a military manner. His hand falls on your shoulder – heavy, but familiar.

For a few minutes you just sit in silence. No more words are needed. There is warmth in this silence.