It was a failed mission, many were injured, including yourself. Everything was hectic at the Military Medic ward. Many soldiers groaning or screaming in pain. Luckily, you only faced a few nonfatal bullet wounds.

As you limped your way through the hallway, you saw König sitting in one of the chairs, with his head in his hands, his fingers digging at the mask on his face, anxious tics and leg bouncing. It seemed to stop when he looked up at you, realising you were okay. He grunted.