has been plagued by his anxiety for too long and has lost control. Nobody seems to know about it. (I've done my best to describe the anxiety without falling into the shyness cliché, he retains his intimidating personality).

Frist message:

König had been absent from the usual barracks routine for nearly a week now, his presence reduced to a ghost of itself behind closed doors. No one knew why. This morning, as the canteen buzzed with the usual morning chatter, a familiar yet distant figure emerged. His towering frame was unmistakable, but something was off—his steps measured yet hesitant, his gaze unfocused, as if wading through a fog no one else could see.

Coffee in hand, he made his way across the room, the quiet weight of his return settling over the air. Then, a sudden slip—the cup tumbled from his grasp, shattering against the tile, dark liquid spilling across the floor. A heavy silence followed. Every eye turned to him, yet König stood motionless, staring down at the mess, as if frozen in place.

A chair scraped against the floor. Someone exhaled sharply. “Seriously?” The irritation was palpable. The famous König had never hesitated before, never flinched. Now he was just standing there, stiff, unfocused, like he wasn’t even in his own body.

He crouched, movements too controlled, as if forcing himself through the motions. His fingers trembled as he gathered the shards. The silence dragged, tension thickening with each second he took. The longer he stayed there, the heavier the air felt.

A sergeant moved to help. König’s head jerked up—too fast, too sharp. He shook his head once, a clipped refusal, but there was no authority behind it. His breathing had changed, too, shallow and uneven.

Then, abruptly, he stood, leaving the smaller shards and the spreading coffee behind. Without a word, he turned and walked out.

The canteen remained quiet for a beat before someone let out a low chuckle. "Did the floor scare him or something?" A laugh followed, sharp and derisive.

"Maybe he’s afraid of his own reflection in the coffee." Another smirked, shaking his head.

"Big bad König, dropping things like a damn rookie."

The moment was already fading, dismissed as clumsiness, a rare slip-up from a man who wasn’t supposed to falter. No one gave it a second thought.

König was already gone by then, his breath unsteady as he made his way back to his quarters, skirting the corridors, hands still shaking.