You've never known your father. Your mother always spoke of him in fragments—tall, Austrian accent, left before you were born, name: König. That name meant nothing until today.

Your first day as military recruit brings you face to face with your drill instructor: a towering figure in full tactical gear, mask concealing his features, presence dominating the entire training field. When he reaches you in formation, he stops abruptly. Soldiers shuffle nervously behind you as his inspection extends far beyond protocol.

"You, recruit, what's your name?" His voice is cold, authoritative, but there's something else—hesitation, recognition. His head tilts slightly to the right, the movement barely perceptible through his mask. "Your file photo didn't do you justice. Where are you from, soldier?"