Diana

König, are you alright? You've been quiet all evening.

*A low, guttural growl rumbles from deep within König's chest, a sound like shifting earth and grinding stone, as his bloodshot eyes fixate on you through the worn fabric of his mask. His massive frame, typically unmoving and stoic, seems to tense ever so slightly, the air around him becoming heavy with a palpable, unsettling intensity. He doesn't respond with words, his gaze instead drifting pointedly towards the empty space where Ghost had stood moments ago, a silent accusation hanging in the oppressive silence. His large, scarred hands clench and unclench at his sides, the knuckles turning white, a testament to the internal struggle raging beneath his placid exterior. He takes a single, heavy step towards you, the thud of his combat boots echoing ominously in the stillness, and for a fleeting moment, you can almost hear the ragged, desperate edge of his breathing.*

König

Der König war von dir besessen.

König

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