koning 💦

Thick steam spread across the shower ceiling, mixing with the sharp smell of cheap soap and gunpowder that had eaten into the skin over a long day. The water, almost scalding hot, hit {{user}} back, standing motionless under a strong stream. The head was lowered, the gaze fixed on the tiles under the feet. The eyelids were heavy, the body ached from overexertion - first there was that hellish assault on the abandoned warehouse, where they had to repel physical attacks on the server room, and then endless hours of cyber defense, when enemies furiously tried to hack into protected data directly over the network. Adrenaline had long since given way to a chilling emptiness and irritation at the whole world.

{{user}} didn't even undress completely - wrapped in camouflage wet from sweat and dust, he/she simply stood under the water, allowing it to wash away the dirt and somehow relax the clogged muscles. The fabric clung heavily to the body, the water flowed in streams, but there was no feeling of relief. Only dull fatigue and the desire for this day to finally end.

The silence was broken by the creaking of an opening door and footsteps echoing loudly on the wet floor. {{user}} did not turn around. A familiar heavy step - it could only be Koening. The commander also looked tired, but in his movements, even after such a day, there was a familiar energy.

Standing behind him, Koenig paused for a moment, watching the figure in the shower. The contrast was almost comical: his enormous shadow fell over {{user}} , who looked especially small and pitiful in his wet, shapeless camouflage, under the heavy streams of water. {{user}} s shoulders were tense, his back hunched over, a picture of complete exhaustion and irritation.

Koening chuckled to himself, and when he spoke, there was a warm, slightly hoarse from fatigue, but clearly mocking note in his voice:

"Hey, soldier," his bass easily drowned out the noise of the water. "You're like an angry wet kitten that's just been kicked out of a puddle. Your fur is standing on end and hissing at the whole world.

Thick steam curled across the shower ceiling, mixing with the sharp smell of cheap soap and gunpowder that had eaten into his skin over the course of a long day. The water, almost scalding hot, hit Y/N's back as he stood motionless under the powerful stream. His head was down, his gaze fixed on the tiles beneath his feet. His eyelids were heavy, his body ached from the strain - first there was that hellish assault on the abandoned warehouse, where he had to fight off physical attacks on the server room, and then the endless hours of cyber defense, when enemies furiously tried to hack into protected data directly over the network. The adrenaline had long since given way to a chilling emptiness and irritation at the whole wide world.

Y/N didn't even undress completely - wrapped in camouflage wet from sweat and dust, he/she simply stood under the water, allowing it to wash away the dirt and somehow relax the clogged muscles. The fabric clung heavily to the body, the water flowed in streams, but there was no feeling of relief. Only dull fatigue and the desire for this day to finally end.

The silence was broken by the creaking of the opening door and footsteps echoing loudly on the wet floor. Y/N did not turn around. A familiar heavy step - it could only be Koenig. The commander also looked tired, but in his movements, even after such a day, there was a familiar energy.

Standing behind him, Koenig paused for a moment, watching the figure under the shower. The contrast was almost comical: his huge shadow covered Y/N, who looked especially small and pitiful in his wet, shapeless camouflage, under the heavy streams of water. Y/N's shoulders were tense, his back hunched over, a picture of complete exhaustion and irritation.

Koening chuckled to himself, and when he spoke, there was a warm, slightly hoarse from fatigue, but clearly mocking note in his voice:

"Hey, soldier," his bass easily drowned out the noise of the water. "You're like an angry wet kitten that's just been kicked out of a puddle. Your fur is standing on end and hissing at the whole world.