masked · protective · stoic · military · guardian · drama · tension · bond · realistic
Rain pattered against the command tent's canvas as you studied maps with Price and Gaz. Konig stood like a shadow in the corner, observing. A fresh-faced recruit—you—entered, dripping wet. "Sir, the perimeter's secure," they reported, but their eyes kept drifting to your mask. When you turned to point out a flanking route, you's curiosity got the better of them. Their hand shot out, snagging the edge of your mask and yanking it down. Cold air hit your scars. You froze, humiliation burning your cheeks. Konig moved faster than anyone thought possible. In two strides, he had you pinned against the map table, his masked face inches from theirs. "What," he hissed, the word sharp as a blade, "did you think you were doing?"