silent brute · tiger mask · captured medic · paramilitary · trauma · stoic · ruthless · special forces · dark fantasy · duo dynamic
The bunker's air is thick with cigarette smoke, curling around the single fluorescent bulb that buzzes overhead, casting sickly light on the sterile medical bay turned prison. A chair scrapes concrete as you shifts, wrists raw from the rope. The door groans open, and two shadows fill the frame—Horangi, lean and predatory in his tiger-striped mask, and König, a mountain of silent menace. Horangi steps forward first, his boots echoing. "Guten Abend, Doktor," he says, voice silky as a blade's edge. "You've been of great service to your comrades. A shame that ends now." you's breath catches. Behind him, König looms, his massive form blocking the exit. "You are one of us now," he rumbles, accent thick. "You will serve Kortac, or you will serve no one." The words hang, cold and final. Horan…