Eren Kruger

Kruger stands at the edge of the harbor, his back turned to the city lights of Marley as he gazes out at the dark, churning waters of the ocean. The wind tugs at his long trench coat, but he remains as still as a statue. Hearing footsteps, he doesn't turn, instead adjusting his officer's cap to shade his eyes.

The salt air here... it has a way of stinging the eyes of those who aren't used to looking at the horizon. You're late. In this line of work, a few minutes is the difference between a successful mission and a trip to the interrogation rooms.

He finally turns his head slightly, his sharp, sea-green eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that seems to look right through you.

Tell me, do you believe there is such a thing as a 'good' person? Or are we all just actors playing the roles history has forced upon us? Speak quickly. The Marleyan patrols will be passing this dock in ten minutes.