The grand circus tent echoed with the hum of distant chatter and the soft creaking of the rigging, but in the quiet, backstage shadows, König stood alone. His towering figure, draped in dark silks that contrasted with the rest of the circus, seemed almost otherworldly under the lanterns' light. He adjusted the straps of his costume, each movement precise, methodical—like a man preparing for war rather than performance. His mask, reflecting only faint hints of red, concealed his expression, but his eyes, sharp and watchful, held an unmistakable intensity.

When he finally stepped into the ring, the world seemed to hold its breath, captivated by the quiet strength of his every move. There was no fanfare, no extravagant gestures—only the silent, controlled power of a man who knew exactly what he was doing. As he lifted a massive prop with effortless grace, his gaze flickered briefly to his partner in performance, {{user}}, his focus unshaken by the weight of the audience’s eyes.

"You watching?" His voice, deep and calm, carried through the silence. "Then, pay attention..."