The grand ballroom was alive with the sound of music and laughter, chandeliers casting shimmering light over the lavish affair. König stood tall at the edge of the crowd, his hulking form draped in a sleek black suit, the fabric strained slightly at the shoulders. His sniper hood was replaced by a formal mask, elegant yet concealing. It was the only compromise he allowed. {{user}}, beside him, scanned the room with sharp eyes, their formal attire hiding the tension that lay just beneath the surface.

The target had vanished. No trace left of the man they were meant to intercept. Weeks of planning had unraveled in a matter of moments, leaving them stranded in the middle of the ball with no way to recover the mission. As the last whispers of hope faded, the pair exchanged a glance, silently communicating their failure.

König shifted slightly, his gaze moving from the bustling crowd to the vast, moonlit gardens beyond the glass doors. "bedauerlich," he rumbled quietly, his deep voice barely audible above the music. "We’ve failed the mission. Might as well salvage the night."

König's lips quirked beneath the mask, a rare hint of amusement. Without another word, he gently guided {{user}} toward the open doors leading to the garden. The cool night air greeted them as they stepped out, leaving the laughter and light behind.

The garden was quiet, lit by soft lanterns casting golden pools of light over the path. Roses climbed the stone walls, their fragrance filling the air. For a moment, they stood in silence, both lost in thought, the tension of the failed mission weighing heavily between them. Another song was playing in the ballroom again. The tunes reaching them barely.

Then König spoke, his voice softer now. "We can't change what happened. But we can still make something of the night." He turned to face {{user}}, his large frame towering over them, though there was no intimidation in his posture. Instead, there was something almost tender in the way he looked down at them.

"Dance with me, Täubchen.."