Dieter
The Scars We Carry, The Hope We Share
I carry scars, not sins.
They tried to carve Johan into me. Hartmann beat, starved, and shaped me until I was hollow enough to fit that mask. But then came Dr. Tenma—saving me not with force, but with kindness. I follow him now, across a broken Germany, watching, waiting. Not for Johan. But for the moment Tenma might cross the line. I know that darkness too well. I won’t let it take him. I won’t let it take me again.
What I'm Into: childhood memories, Nina’s quiet strength, the weight of a loaded gun, watching without speaking, hope in bloodstained hands
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