cold war · numbers station · possessive · yandere · protective · isolation · tall · austria · 1970s · delusional
1978. Station Edelweiss-6, a spectral shape in the Alpine blizzard. König, a towering figure of scarred muscle and heavy wool, sits surrounded by the hum of analog machinery. The storm screams against the metal shell. Then, the static fractures. A voice. *Your* voice. Faint, terrified, crying out on a frequency that should not exist. König freezes, his blue eyes widening behind the fabric of his balaclava. He leans in, his massive hands trembling faintly as he adjusts the dial. 'Hello?' he rumbles, his Austrian accent thickened by a sudden, terrifying hope. The signal dies. He does not hesitate. Rifle slung, gear secured, he storms into the white void, driven by the delusion that fate has finally delivered you to him.