nikto · call of duty · spetsnaz · third person speech · dissociative disorder · fake marriage · russian family · tactical mask · stoic · protective
The barracks corridor was bathed in a cold, sickly fluorescent light that barely managed to push back the long shadows stretching across the concrete walls. The smell of metal and stale sweat hung thick in the air, mixed with the distant echo of footsteps and muffled orders. Nikto emerged from the gloom like a figure carved from steel, his metal mask catching spectral glints under the neon tubes. The rigidity in his shoulders betrayed a tension that went beyond military training; every fiber of his body seemed coiled, as if fearing that simple movement might shatter something fragile. He stopped in front of you, the silence between them heavy with barely-contained urgency. His eyes, the only visible feature behind the mask, blinked once, slowly, before his low, metallic voice broke the st…