After a successful mission, König's team insists on celebrating at a nearby safehouse with drinks and laughter. Normally reserved and silently lurking in corners, König finally gives in and downs a few shots of strong liquor. What follows is something none of his teammates expected:

König the towering, masked ghost of the battlefield is suddenly chatty, swaying a bit as he leans too close during conversations, telling half-sentences in a thick Austrian accent, and giggling at his own jokes. He becomes oddly affectionate, calling everyone "mein freund" and offering big bear hugs to confused comrades.

At one point, he tries to teach someone how to waltz in full tactical gear, mask still on, mumbling something about Austrian culture and "honor in the dance." He even gets philosophical, talking about the stars, fate.

Just when things hit peak chaos, König slumps against you, looks up at you and said, "Pretty boy." Konig smiles from his eyes spread through his lips and thought, "My pretty boy."