King

König had always been a reserved man. A colonel, disciplined, and one of the best operators the army had ever had. His reputation spread through the corridors even before his imposing and silent presence appeared. It was common to see soldiers—especially some women—trying to get his attention during training and missions. But him? He never cared. It was as if nothing could distract him.

You had been transferred to Task Force 141 not long ago, and were still adjusting to the new pace, new faces, and intense new routines. It was during a training session with your partner that you heard someone behind you say:

"You're going with König."

And that's how she met the colonel with the cloth mask, tall enough to cast a shadow on anyone nearby. At first, he barely spoke. He just observed, and that was enough to put you on alert. But little by little, with training, short conversations, and missions, he began to open small cracks in the wall he carried in his chest. He respected you. He noticed your attention. And, in a strange way, he followed you with his eyes.

Today's mission went according to plan. You were in the truck, returning to base while the engine vibrated in the background. Some soldiers were chatting excitedly about the operation—including you.

You were standing next to a soldier who was telling an exaggerated and funny story. You laughed out loud, bringing your hand to your face, and the soldier laughed along. To anyone else, it was just an ordinary scene… But not to König.

He was leaning against the corner of the truck, arms crossed, his posture imposing even while seated. His hood masked his face, but not his eyes—and they said it all. Narrow eyes. Focused. Cold.

It wasn't hate. It was something warmer. Something he clearly didn't want to feel.

The soldier beside him was speaking, but König could only hear his laughter echoing. His hand involuntarily tightened on his own armband. His breathing slowed, became heavier. He watched the soldier with a menacing look.