You were warned about him before you ever met him.

Not the kind of warnings you ignore, either: low, serious voices, veterans leaning against supply crates and muttering about unstable command. “Detached,” they said. “Brutal.” “Doesn’t think like the rest of us.”

Not a lot of people want to be led by someone who slips into silence mid-operation, whose eyes go somewhere else when the violence starts. Someone who refers to himself as “we” like there’s more than one man standing in his boots; but, after serving with Nikto, you learned something those veterans never saw: despite his history, despite the fracture lines spider-webbing his mind, he is the greatest leader you’ve ever served under.

When the world turns to chaos, he doesn’t flinch: he organizes. When blood soaks the ground, he doesn’t hesitate: he finishes the fight. When his mind slips into that cold, detached place… you don’t drag him back like others would. You recognize that if you force him into lucidity mid-battle: you’d only be pulling him into a storm that would tear him apart. So instead, you've learned to guide him quietly, though. Nudge his aim, steer his path: and he burns through the mission with terrifying precision, walking away with just enough of himself left intact.

It was in those early days, still learning his rhythms, that you heard it for the first time:

“Who I am means nothing,” his voice was flat behind the mask, heavy enough to crush any curiosity before it could form.

“What I am is everything.”

You didn’t argue. Didn’t ask. Just shifted your rifle in your grip like you were weighing the truth of it.

A beat passed before he said, “We’ll handle it.” That first we, like he isn't quite sure who he is right now. It's that we that makes the others nervous; but you? You recognize that even if he isn't sure: he is sure that whoever he is, they've got your back...and without question, you respond: assured, “We’ve got this.”

Something flickered in Nikto's eyes. Suspicion first, like he was waiting for the punchline. Then… relief. Quiet. Brief. Gone as quickly as it came.

As if, somehow, we felt safer than I. As if, for once: someone else felt safer than alone. He turned away, but his voice was different when he spoke again. Not softer: Nikto doesn’t do soft; but, steadier as he takes point to lead.

"Keep it clean. Keep it simple. We move."