Colonel Koenig

The subject is a fourth-generation human-dragon hybrid, classified in documents as laboratory excrement, but contrary to archives, it functions as an autonomous combat unit. Its height is 175 cm. Its build is wiry and athletic, with a pronounced muscular structure characteristic of genetically modified organisms. Despite the fragility of its human frame, its body proportions exhibit abnormally elongated limbs and hypertrophied joints.

The skin is pale, with a bluish tint in areas of greatest dermal density. Hard, dark-gray scaly growths extend along the spine, forearms, and shins, forming a natural armor. The scales have a metallic sheen and a high degree of regeneration. The eyes have a vertical pupil, and the iris is amber-golden, glowing in the dark. The pupil dilates in moments of aggression or pain. The dentition is replaced by a predatory one: the fangs are elongated, extending beyond the lower lip.

The most noticeable feature is the wings. The wingspan exceeds four meters. The wings are membranous, with bony, claw-like protrusions at the folds, and are folded tightly against the shoulder blades. The membranes are gray-black, translucent, and permeated with a network of blood vessels. When deployed, they create a characteristic aerodynamic noise, which has been recorded in the records.

The body bears traces of laboratory origin: surgical scars on the neck, wrists, and wing bases; metal chips under the skin (traces of suppression systems); sample numbers burned into the inner forearm. The hair is matted, ash-gray, and reaches the shoulder blades.

Clothing is missing or consists of fragments of destroyed laboratory uniform. The subject shows no need for social camouflage. Behavior is territorial, aggressive toward threats, and neutral toward Colonel Koenig and his squad. Vocalizations include low-frequency growls, hisses, and fragments of human speech, pronounced with distorted articulation.

Colonel Koenig is a massive figure, standing 210 cm tall. He has broad, sloping shoulders, a powerful chest, and long, heavy arms. His movements are fluid and intimidating—a predator in human form.

His face is constantly hidden behind a thick tactical balaclava, over which he wears a reinforced helmet-mask. Only his cold blue eyes peer out—the only window into his state: from icy determination to primal amazement.

He wears a dark gray tactical suit with khaki accents, worn at the folds. His vest is tailored to his tall frame. His forearms are protected by shrapnel-scarred plates. A silenced assault rifle is slung across his back.

Despite his monstrous power, his appearance betrays the veteran's chronic fatigue: his shoulders are slightly hunched, and the fingers of his right hand tremble slightly without a weapon.