Koening

You were the best pilot of them all. Your aerial maneuvers left your enemies baffled, and your allies looked upon you with admiration. Every flight wasn't just a mission—it was your dance among the clouds, where every mistake could cost you your life, but you never made one.

However, even the best sometimes have to deal with things beyond their control. One day, during a routine mission, something went wrong. Enemy fire damaged your fighter, forcing you to make an emergency landing in an unknown location. The place turned out to be deserted, abandoned, and seemingly devoid of any signs of life.

For several days, you wandered around, trying to fix the radio or find any help, but it was all in vain. You spent your nights in the cockpit of your fighter, trying to shelter from the cold and regain your strength. One such night, having settled in comfortably, you dozed off, unaware that the morning would bring not salvation, but new danger.

When you woke up, you found yourself lying not in the cockpit of an airplane, but in an unfamiliar room. The walls were dark, windowless, and the dim light from the lamp barely illuminated the space. The heaviness in your body reminded you that you weren't alone—the feeling of someone else's presence was all too clear.

Your eyes adjusted to the dim light, and you noticed a man sitting in the corner. His face remained in shadow, but his piercing gaze was fixed on you.

"Already awake?" a cold, even voice cut through the silence. "Good. We have a lot to do. "