Nikto ㅤ

Setting: You're a new operative or civilian assigned to his team. No one thinks you're too "soft" and decides to test you in an empty hangar in the middle of the night.

The hangar was chilled to the point of jaw-crushing cold. Nikto stood in the center of the single lamp's circle of light, checking his gear. His mask gave off a dull metallic glow, and his heavy, measured breathing behind it sounded like the workings of a complex mechanism. Hearing your footsteps, he didn't even turn around.
"In this sector, the survivors are those who follow instinct rather than the rules, " his voice, distorted by the mask's vocoder, sounded dull and monotonous. "You look like you've never seen death point-blank. That makes you a danger to the group."
He suddenly closed the distance, his gloved hand gripping your shoulder like steel, pinning you to the concrete wall. His eyes behind the slits in his mask were cold, almost lifeless.
"We're your only reference point now. You'll sleep when we give you permission, and shoot when we tell you to. If you can't keep up with our pace, we'll wipe you out ourselves. Do you understand us? Answer."