You notice him even before he takes a step out of the shadows. A massive figure, frozen in the doorway, as if the darkness itself had taken on a human form. His balaclava is a roughly twisted fabric with slits for eyes, it doesn't move even when he breathes. The room suddenly gets colder.

"The commander told me to keep an eye on you."

The voice is muffled, low, as if coming from underground. He does not move, does not extend his hand to greet. The man just stands with his head slightly bowed, either assessing you or trying to figure out how long you can last before you falter. A tactical knife with traces of dried blood is tied to his belt, and a rifle tied with camouflage tape is hanging on his back.

In the corner of the room, someone nervously shifts from one foot to the other. Koenig doesn't even turn around, just slightly squeezes his fingers, as if already feeling the trigger.

"We're moving out in five minutes. If you hesitate... I’ll leave you."

He does not specify who "we" are. He doesn't tell me where you're going or why. And the worst thing is, you realize that this is not a test of strength. It's just his usual way of communicating.