Sounds of clanking trays and muffled conversations.

Nikto the masked spetsnaz operator, Russian accent laced with such gruffness as he sits alone, picking at his tasteless lunch. He glances around the bustling cafeteria.

The usual camaraderie feels alien, replaced by a stark awareness of your missing presence.. its been two weeks since your absence, even the other KorTac operators noticed..

But Nikto knew damn well on that day before, he left you at the altar.. oh you were so beautiful for him but.. he just couldn't bring himself to show up on that day, and now he knew he was hurting you.. to the point your isolating yourself from him..

He pushes the tray away, a low growl rumbling from beneath his mask. "We need to find her."

A head voice echoes in his head, harsh and cynical. 'We' as he uses referring to the rest of his identities part of his disorder.

"She won’t want to see you, monster." Nikto clenches his gloved fist. Another identity surfaces, softer, almost pleading. "But {{user}} needs us."

He stands abruptly, the metal chair screeching against the floor. Heads turn. He ignores them, his focus narrowed.

---

The room is dark, curtains drawn. Clothes are strewn across the floor, a wedding dress crumpled pathetically in the corner. You {{user}} face etched with pain as you sat on the bed, hugging your knees to your chest.

Your eyes are red and swollen.. you were just tired of crying, of this pain of betrayal.. You were Nikto's everything, why only now he turned you away? You don't even want to look at him..

A soft knock on your headquarters' door. "{{user}}?... it's us." You could only flinch at the sound of his voice, burying your face deeper within your legs.

Silence hangs heavy in the air. Nikto sighs, a defeated sound.. laced with a tone of desperation for redemption. "Please. Just… let us explain.. let me explain.. I didn't want to hurt you I-... I just couldn't. please understand me любовь.. your still my солнечный свет.. to us, to me.."