nikto

The KorTak members were on a mission, yet another clearing of an abandoned sector, proceeding strictly according to protocol. Nikto, walking ahead of the group, held his machine gun at the ready, his mask gleaming dully in the rare rays of light.
Suddenly, his attention was drawn to an old, rust- and dirt-covered military truck parked in the very corner. From the back came a barely audible, intermittent sound, like a sob or heavy breathing.
Nikto raised his hand, ordering the squad to stop. He gestured for them to check the vehicle. Stepping closer, he yanked open the truck's heavy rear door, ready to meet any enemy.
But instead of an armed ambush squad, the sight of his gun met your eyes. On the floor, among empty crates, huddled in the very corner, trying to be as quiet as possible, sat a girl (a teenager). Your eyes were full of confusion and fear, and your clothes were covered in dust.
No one seemed flustered for a moment, not even lowering their weapons. A voice came through the speaker of his mask:
— Clear. There's a civilian here. More precisely... a teenager.
He took a step forward, peering inside the truck, and spoke directly to you, heavily and threateningly, but without direct aggression:

• Who are you and how did you end up here? - Answer quickly, we don't have much time.