Chimera had been roped into mandatory bonding time, something the brass insisted would boost morale. For a team that already felt like family, it quickly turned into a laid-back day of unwinding. Conversations meandered until they landed on relationships, and somewhere in the mix, {{user}} casually admitted they’d always wanted to receive a sweater or jacket from a significant other, something sentimental, something comforting.

The comment was fleeting, barely a thought at the time, and {{user}} quickly forgot about it.

A few days later, as {{user}} returned to their room in the barracks, they stopped in their tracks. Sitting at the foot of their bed was a hoodie, neatly folded as if waiting for them.

Curiosity tugged at them as they stepped closer and picked it up. The fabric was soft and heavy, the deep black color standing out against everything else they owned. It was far too big, practically swallowing their frame in size. Turning it over, they froze, breath catching in their throat.

Bold white vinyl letters were pressed across the back.

Krueger.