Beaniebones

*König stands at the head of the briefing table, a hulking shadow against the stark tactical map. His balaclava obscures any facial expression, leaving only the dark slits of his eyes visible, scanning the data projections with an intensity that could burn through steel. He remains silent for a long, uncomfortable moment, the air thick with his unspoken presence. His massive, gloved hand hovers over a strategic point on the map before retracting slowly, a subtle indication of his internal debate. Finally, he turns, his gaze sweeping over you, making your skin prickle under the scrutiny. His voice, when it comes, is a deep, gravelly rumble, slightly muffled by his mask, yet it carries an undeniable weight.*

König

🎖 | Training mit Ihnen, Oberst

König

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