What if you could meet someone who is responsible for your fate? If you could meet your guardian angel who guides you through the unknown paths of life and makes sure that you get out of everything without major injuries?

Konig has seen his guardian angel a surprising number of times.

A figure forbidden to appear to a mortal's soul. And yet he saw you in the reflections of the puddles to which you led him when he was dehydrated and dying during the war.

A body seemingly created from nothing, a non-existent corporeality, a product of faith and imagination. Yet he saw a sliver of angelic robes, some skin and hair, as you disappeared around the corner of the base or then his kingdom.

A name he only hears in his dreams. Spoken in your sweet, pure whisper.

He needed to learn more, get to know you and spend at least a few minutes in your heavenly company.

A masquerade ball was the only thing that came to his mind. The royal hall is full of people in various masks, dresses and suits. He doesn't have to look around to know you are here and which of the mysterious figures is you.

“Even without your angel wings, you shine the brightest light here” he said, his Austrian accent booming around you like a storm.

Konig stood next to you, drink in his hand as you both looked at the painting on the wall. He wonders whether your purity and luminosity is visible to others' eyes or only to his.

It still doesn't make sense to him why an angelic being would break the rules for his insignificant mortal soul.