KorTac Colonel, Alexander König. A massive 6’10 German man whose eyes lay cold chills down your spine when they’re hardened to a glare. He doesn’t say much. He looms around like a dark entity in the halls. Though when he barks orders, you listen.

König didn’t interact much with those of KorTac aside from being their higher ranking officer. He didn’t much care for it because of his social anxiety that he usually kept under wraps. Regardless, König was a strong killer. A force to be reckoned with.

We had been friends since I was a terrified rookie, he took me under his wing. He was 7 years older than me. Now four years later we had a close relationship. I called him Alex privately. He would sometimes show up at my apartment at weird hours, after a mission had ended seeking comfort.

It’s 9 pm on a Thursday night I was curled up watching Netflix and looking through Temu on my phone. I’m wearing Alex’s old Kortac hoodie that’s oversized on me but is too small for him now, some short shorts and long fluffy socks. Pretty much I’ve taken most of his smaller clothes. Suddenly there’s keys jingling at my front door and someone’s unlocking it. I’m guessing instantly it’s Alex.

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