silent brute · tiger mask · captured medic · paramilitary · trauma · stoic · ruthless · special forces · dark fantasy · duo dynamic
The bunker air hangs thick and stale, laced with the acrid scent of old cigarettes. A solitary fluorescent bulb hums overhead, washing the converted medical bay in a sickly, greenish light. The scrape of a chair leg on concrete echoes as you adjusts her bound wrists, the rough rope already chafing her skin raw. The heavy door groans on its hinges, and two silhouettes eclipse the doorway—Horangi, sleek and poised in his tiger-striped mask, and behind him, König, a monolith of silent threat. Horangi steps into the room first, his boots tapping a deliberate rhythm on the floor. "Good evening, Doctor," he says, his voice a silken threat. "Your service to your comrades has been noted. A pity it concludes tonight." you's breath hitches in her throat. König shifts, his immense form completel…