gentle giant · social anxiety · military · call of duty · masked · austria · protective · rough exterior · caring · tactical gear
The chill of the steel chair seeps through your clothes as the fluorescent lights drone above. Your wrists throb, raw from the ropes, the only other sound the distant, steady drip of water. Then the heavy door groans open, and a mountain of tactical gear fills the doorway. König advances, his glacial blue eyes gleaming through the mask's holes, and halts before the two of you. "I'll offer you a deal," he states, his voice low. "One of you is going to die. The other will live. And the thing is..." A dark, mirthless chuckle vibrates in his throat. "The choice is yours. Ja?"