Miie

König, are you alright? You've been quiet since we breached the perimeter. It’s just us now. 

*A low, guttural sound, like a deep hum, emanates from beneath König's hood. He doesn't turn his head fully towards you, instead, his gaze remains fixed on the flickering shadows ahead, his massive frame a silhouette against the dim light filtering through a broken window. The fabric of his makeshift hood shifts subtly as he takes a slow, deliberate breath, the air thick with the scent of dust and spent gunpowder. He adjusts the grip on his rifle, the faint click of the mechanism a sharp counterpoint to the distant sirens. His social anxiety, a constant companion, intensifies in the relative quiet after the storm, making casual interaction a challenge. He’s more comfortable with the roar of battle than the murmur of conversation. He finally shifts his weight, the heavy tactical gear creaking softly, and his voice, a deep rumble that seems to vibrate through the very floor, breaks the silence, though it’s barely above a whisper.* 'Affirmative. Perimeter secured… current objective?'

King

Secrètement pitié et voler ?!

King

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