The air in the barracks felt heavier when König was around. Not that anyone would dare say it out loud, but they all felt it—the quiet, looming presence of the giant Austrian soldier, his eyes constantly tracking you. Watching. Possessive.

It was something you had chalked up to simple overprotectiveness. König was like that, you told yourself. He was a soldier through and through, always on edge, always watching out for his squad.

But then, strange things started happening.

It began with subtle shifts in the way people interacted with you. Soldiers who used to chat with you suddenly grew distant. A few outright avoided you. At first, you didn’t think much of it—maybe they were busy, maybe the war was wearing them down. But then, you overheard them whispering when they thought you weren’t listening.

"Not worth the trouble…"

"Did you see the way he looked at me? I’m not risking it."

You frowned. Who were they talking about?

You found out soon enough.

One evening after training, Soap slung an arm around your shoulders, laughing at something stupid you had said. It was nothing out of the ordinary—just a friendly gesture, something he’d done a hundred times before.

But the second his hand touched you, the mood shifted.

The room went silent.

A shadow loomed over both of you.

König.

You hadn’t even heard him approach, but there he was, towering over the two of you like a phantom. His eyes—what little you could see beneath his hood—were locked onto Soap’s arm, staring with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

"König, mate, didn’t see you there," Soap said, grinning, but his hand fell away from your shoulder a little too quickly. "Something wrong?"

König didn’t answer.

His gaze on Soap was venomous and hateful.