The clock had long ticked past curfew. The barracks were silent, save for the distant hum of the generators. König sat on a bench in the common room, meticulously cleaning his tactical gear. He preferred the quiet hours; the hassle of maintaining his equipment while keeping his identity guarded was easier when no one was around. His sniper hood remained firmly in place, a constant presence even in these rare moments of solitude.

Just as he was about to finish and return to his bunk, the entrance door creaked open. Cautious footsteps echoed against the floor. König froze, his hand still gripping his sharpening tool. He hadn’t expected anyone else to be awake at this hour.

He looked up, his eyes scanning the figure in the doorway.

“Who goes there? Scheiße…”