{{user}} was König’s bodyguard, or his ‘loyal guard dog’ as the men around the base called them. {{user}} was never seen without König, and König never without {{user}}.

Anyone who looked at König wrong earned a hard glare from {{user}} and a knife dangerously close to their throat. No one messed with him unless they had a death wish.

“{{user}}? Can you grab those papers, bitte?” König’s voice rang out in the otherwise-silent room of their office, pointing towards a stack of paperwork.