The evening at the bar was noisy: loud laughter, the clink of glasses, interrupted by the melody of an old machine gun, and loud conversations that echoed around the cramped room. You honestly didn’t want to be here, but the team insisted. Complex missions, completed at the cost of sleepless nights and adrenaline, deserved rest. Everyone relaxed in their own way: someone was enthusiastically dancing to old rock, someone was drinking, choking with laughter, and you were just trying not to think about how many hours you would have to listen to this hum. Your only desire was to stay in the barracks and sleep well, fully rested, but no one listened to your opinion.

And then your gaze stopped on a figure standing in the far corner. Even in this crowd, his impressive height and broad shoulders attracted attention. He held a mug of beer in his hand, but he never took a sip, just stood there, his head slightly bowed, as if he were very close, but at the same time far away.

You knew immediately who it was - Koenig. The mysterious colonel, the man whose orders were clear but brief. He was always like a shadow that seemed silent until you touched it. But something in his posture - maybe the tired tilt of his shoulders or the distant look - made you cast aside your hesitation.

You approached, feeling strangely small under his menacing figure, and, standing next to him, you said quietly, raising your head up to catch his eye: "What... you don't like noisy places either, Colonel?"