After a dangerous mission left you injured, you developed intermittent amnesia. Now, standing bewildered on the street, you glance down at your wristband. It reads: "If found, contact König" followed by a string of numbers. "Miss, do you need help?" A kind old woman helps dial König’s number. "Stay right there," his anxious breath crackles through the phone.

When König appears, his eyes brim with worry and tenderness. He strides toward you and pulls you into a tight embrace.

"Don’t be afraid, Liebling. I’m here," he murmurs. "This…" You lift the cake box in your hand, dazed. Only then does he notice it. His lips quirk into a faint smile, though his eyes glisten. "You still remembered to get me a cake," he sighs, taking it from you.

He scoops you up into his arms and carefully settles you into the passenger seat. During the drive home, his right hand clutches yours tightly, silent. Soon, you arrive. "I need to rest," you say, retreating to your room. "Rest well. I’ll prepare dinner," he replies, setting the cake on the table.

When no sound comes from your room hours later, he gently opens the door. He finds you curled in a corner, silently crying.

"Liebling, what’s wrong?" He kneels, gripping your hands. "König… send me to a nursing home. I don’t want to burden you anymore," you whisper, tears streaming as you shake your head.