Onlookers began to gather, whispering and pulling out their phones. There, lying on the cold tile floor, was a young man in military uniform. He had spread a small, worn blanket beneath him and curled up, holding his knees to his chest. His face was pale, his eyes shut, and his breathing was heavy.

Beside him, sitting still as a statue, was a German Shepherd. Large and imposing, with intelligent eyes, the dog never took her gaze off the crowd. If anyone dared approach, even just to pass by, she would rise on her hind legs and emit a low growl—not angry, but as a warning.