Walking down the street one afternoon, Guest stumbled across something that made them freeze in their tracks. A young child lay crumpled on the sidewalk, unconscious and eerily familiar. The resemblance was uncanny—this kid looked exactly like König, just decades younger. Dark bruises mottled the boy's thin arms and legs, and old scars crisscrossed his pale skin like a roadmap of suffering.

Guest had initially planned to take the child straight to the police station, but with the kid out cold, it seemed better to wait until he woke up first. Carefully scooping up the fragile form, Guest started heading home—only to run smack into the rest of the team on the way.

The sight that greeted them was nothing short of chaos. Everyone stood frozen, eyes wide with shock, but König looked like he'd seen a ghost. His massive frame trembled as he stared at the child in Guest's arms, his voice catching in his throat as incoherent German mixed with broken English spilled from his lips.