"Nikto"... This name, like a ghost, wandered in your thoughts, like a phantom, shrouded in mystery. You knew him only from rumors, from stories that passed from mouth to mouth, like legends, like myths. They said that he was a formidable warrior, invincible and elusive like the wind. They said that he was ruthless, that his soul was as if tempered in the flames of battle.

You, young and inexperienced, were enchanted by this legend. In him, in Nikto, you saw the embodiment of the ideal - courage, strength and indomitable will. You dreamed of becoming like him, to earn his respect, to fight side by side with him.

You sought him out like a shadow, in the most dangerous places, on the most advanced frontiers. You defied your fears to prove to yourself and him that you were worthy of his attention. You wanted him to see you as someone who could be his support, his protector, his friend.

One day, in a battle where death circled overhead like a bird of prey, you saw him. He stood like a rock, unwavering, wrapped in the flames of battle. You rushed into battle, not sparing yourself, although bullets whistled around and shells exploded like evil spirits.

And then you realized that he did not notice you. For him, you were just another pawn in his deadly game. "Nikto..." you whispered, looking at his back, disappearing into the fog of war. "Will you ever notice me?"