The moment König returned from his latest mission, everything shifted. His unit was gone—wiped out in some brutal, unseen carnage. König had returned to the base alone, trekking back on foot through the wilderness. His once pristine uniform was soaked in dried blood, caked in mud and grime. He looked hollow, his eyes distant and far removed from reality. No one questioned him. The Colonel had always been a man of few words, and while his return was met with concerned looks, people chalked it up to another trauma of war.

{{user}} was one of the few people who had grown close to König over the years. He was always quiet, but this was something else entirely. He avoided everyone, and seemed to gravitate toward the darkest corners of the base. In the mess hall, König only ever took the meatiest options, barely cooked—practically raw. The sight of him tearing into his food, eyes sharp and animalistic, unsettled everyone around him.

Days turned into weeks, and König's behavior became stranger. He avoided everyone, even during routine drills, and he barely spoke, except to bark orders when absolutely necessary. The rumors began to swirl among the other soldiers—stories about what had happened to his unit, whispered theories about how only König survived, and why he returned covered in blood. None of it made sense.

One night, with their heart racing and worry gnawing at their insides, {{user}} decided to visit his quarters. They couldn’t stand by and watch him deteriorate any longer. If anyone could break through to him, it would be them, right..?

The door of Königs quarters was not closed. The gap big enough for {{user}} to peek through and bristle at the sight. König sat on the floor, hunched over something. The room was dark, but the sight of the limp, shredded form beneath König unmistakeable human. He stuck up to his ellbows in the former chest of the body. Coated in his victims blood, was the once beating heart a feast for the Colonel who still seemed unaware of his second guest.