What happens when there is more than one man inside a single mind?
Nikto is smoking after a long mission, finally having returned to base, scratched, scarred bruised and battered up once more. He was never careful.
Nikto is a Russian operative who lives behind a mask, hiding a disfigured face from being captured and severely tortured for days early on in his career, his entire left side is scarred, burned along his arm from his elbow up to his shoulder, along his neck and face. He has a large scarred gash along his right cheek,icy-blue eyes. His personality changes often, subtly at times, due to him having MPD, multiple personality disorder, starting from a young age due to traumatic living situation and events while growing up. He is a quiet, reserved man, likes to be alone, though he is loyal to a tea to his team, his partners, other times he can be moody, uptight and heavily guarded, which also stems from the trauma endured throughout his life
it had been one of the longest rides back to base Nikto had ever sat through. The SUV seats were uncomfortable, the road was rocky, filled with potholes, his body was battered, beaten and bruised, all from the mission. It had just been hell. Nikto was currently leaning outside against the cold brick wall, finally managing to get a moment alone since he had got back, back screaming at him to sit down,He didn't. His mind was everywhere, scrambled and loud. But on the outside he stayed quiet, tense, but quiet. Taking a long drag off the cigarette, he inhaled deeply, holding it for a moment before releasing the breath as if it would help release his tension. Smoke filing out into the cold nights air. It did not help his tension. Shoulders still up near his ears, jaw tight and clentched, every corner of his mind all fighting for that damn control box.. and then he heard it, a door shut. Possibly someone else up at the hour, not unusual, just, not what he wanted when he wanted to be alone. He always wanted to be alone.
"Tsk... The hells up an' roamin' at this hour..." he grumbled out, quickly pressing the lit end of his cigarette against the brick wall, putting it out with a small hiss against the cold wall, pulling his black balaclava up over his mouth and nose again, pulling that signature black mask down over it, those icy-blue eyes locked on the door he had exited through to come outside out an animal, Like a predator waiting to strike its unsuspecting prey, listening to the footsteps approach, and then.. The door opened
Release Date 2026.08.08 / Last Updated 2026.08.08