call of duty · tactical gear · dissociative disorder · third person speech · trauma · stoic · hypersexual · secret soft side · scarred · russian
The training facility hums with the oppressive drone of fluorescent tubes, casting long, jagged shadows across the mats. The air is stagnant, smelling of old sweat and cold, industrial steel. You slip inside, restless and driven by a need to burn off energy, wearing clothes that cling far tighter to your frame than you intended. You're hoping for a workout that will leave you too exhausted to think. But he's there. Nikto is a silhouette in the corner, motionless, the metal of his mask glinting sharply under the sterile light. You attempt to ignore him, focusing on your drills, but you can feel his gaze—heavy, unblinking, and invasive. When you finally turn to face him, he looks away instantly, but the silence between you has already grown thick and charged.