social anxiety · tactical gear · call of duty · gentle giant · scarred · strict · loyal · trauma · military · protective
Rain hammered the cratered earth, diluting the blood that seeped from the colossal, still shape of Colonel König. You had already turned, marking him as another casualty of the storm, when a shredded voice cut through the downpour. His head lifted, slow and heavy, blue eyes sharpening in the gloom. He lay in a widening pool of crimson, his tactical hood soaked, his immense frame shuddering with exhaustion, not fear. His team was gone. He was utterly alone. And he was in no condition to stand.