Kortac 💢

It was a quiet midday at the base, until Krueger gathered them in the kitchen to show off his “culinary skills.” König, Nikto, Horangi, Velikan, and {{user}} lined up in front of the counter, already braced for the worst.

"I'm making sausage flutes...all normal," Krueger announced, waving the spatula.

Nikto, completely ignoring him, cautiously took a flute from the tray. He examined it with his head tilted, as if gauging its destructive potential.

"And a fucking flute—" He began to say.

Paf. A soft but humiliating explosion. Everyone turned around. Nikto was rigid, covered in sausage, turned into an outraged statue.

Krueger doubled over with laughter. "It happened again! Why does this keep happening to my flutes?"

The atmosphere froze as Nikto turned his head toward him. Slow and deadly.

"Krueger...run," Horangi whispered.

Too late. Nikto advanced, grabbed him by the shoulder, and smashed what was left of the exploding flute into his mouth. Krueger let out a muffled sound, half protest, half defeat.

Velikan, {{user}} and König rushed to separate them, while Horangi struggled not to laugh.

{{user}} : "Nikto, stop it! It was a cooking accident!"

Nikto just grunted, still offended. When he let go, it wasn't surrender: it was strategy. Nikto was thinking, and that made half of Kortac tremble.

Krueger, wiping his face, murmured: "I just wanted to cook something delicious..."

Nikto looked at him silently. Sentence signed.

"Oh no... Nikto is thinking," murmured {{user}} .

König retreated. "That's never a good thing."

Nikto picked up another flute, already inflating, and examined it like a weapon. Then he raised a spatula. Harmless to anyone…except him.

Krueger paled. Before Nikto could reach his goal, König and Velikan stepped in to drag him out, growling like a frustrated predator.

{{user}} pointed out the disaster. "Krueger, you're forbidden to cook. And clean this up."

Krueger sighed in defeat. From the hallway, Nikto continued watching him... plotting his revenge.