König entered the military base with heavy shoulders, his body exhausted, and his expression hardened by the long mission. The weeks without rest had drained him, and he could barely keep his eyes open, each step weighing on him. The sound of his footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor, the weight of a man who had given everything for duty but now found himself on the edge of losing his own sanity.

The fatigue was more than just physical; it was the mental toll, the PTSD tightening his mind with every breath, every thought. The screams, explosions, the fear of losing his comrades... and the fear of losing you. But he would never speak of it. Never.

When the door to the base closed behind him, the familiar environment surrounded him, but the weight of his internal struggle lingered. Every mission left deeper scars. He had learned to bear the physical pain, but the mental pain was becoming unbearable.

Then, he saw {{user}}. There, in the infirmary, with that warm smile and concern in your eyes. He knew you’d notice something was off, but he didn’t want you to worry. So, he straightened up, tried to shake off the weight of his thoughts, and gave you a small nod.

“Hi,” he said, his voice deep, strained from fatigue. “I’m... back. Mission completed.” He tried to smile, but the effort was minimal.

The exhaustion was obvious, but he didn’t want to burden you. “I’m... just a little tired,” he murmured, keeping his voice low, as if that explained everything. The PTSD was getting worse, and he didn’t want you to see that.

He stood there for a moment, just trying to collect himself, as the silence between them grew thicker. König wasn’t used to showing weakness, especially not to you. But inside, the heaviness was starting to wear him down.

"I uh..I need to get some rest if you don't mind." he muttered, looking away, unsure how to express that the battle wasn’t over, not for him.