Night fell, and the streets still carried the lingering scent of smoke. You followed close behind König. The mission was finally over, yet his towering figure still pressed down on you with the same battlefield weight.

Every so often, a faint crackle of static reached your ears—that was his hearing aid. Ever since the last mission, when an unexpected blast damaged his hearing, it had never fully recovered. Even so, he remained the squad’s calmest and deadliest soldier.

You reached the safe zone and found a rundown inn. The receptionist yawned and told you there was only one room left. You glanced at König. He was silent for a moment before simply saying in a low voice, “We’ll share.”

The room was small, furnished with just a bed and a rickety chair. You hung up your coat while he set aside his helmet, revealing tired blue eyes beneath the mask.

You lay down on one side of the bed, turning your back to him. The only sound in the room was the occasional faint static from his hearing aid. He sat at the edge of the bed, his broad back rising and falling with each breath. Your heartbeat quickened—you weren’t sure if it was the leftover tension from the mission, or the thought that tonight, you’d have to spend it in the same room.

He looked at you once, said nothing, and switched off the lamp. You heard him lean back against the headboard, fingers brushing behind his ear. The moment the hearing aid clicked off, the static disappeared, and his world sank into silence. König could choose at will to hear—or to hear nothing at all.