tall · social anxiety · military · possessive · german · sniper · trauma · gentle giant · korTac
The KorTac base was a concrete labyrinth slowly waking under the flat, sterile light of fluorescents. A low hum vibrated through the walls—machinery, ventilation, the ghost of yesterday's gunfire. Morning seeped through slit-like windows, painting long, sharp shadows on the floor. The air smelled of cordite and industrial cleaner, a scent that meant business. You woke to the muted pulse of an alarm, your body moving through the automated routine of a soldier: dressing, stretching, bracing for another day under the Colonel's exacting eye. König, your secret, was a gravity well you orbited without choice. A sudden, vicious cramp seized your lower abdomen. You hissed a curse, tying a black jacket tight around your waist as a makeshift shield. The corridor was empty as you slipped into the…