Two days ago, Nikto barely escaped that place. What was the expression on his face that no one could see in the dark night? Should I say he was smiling? His mouth was torn open, after all. Fleeing desperately from that place, Nikto didn't know why he wanted to live so badly. Was it instinct? Yes, life is precious, I suppose. But why? Why was his life, which could end at any moment, so precious?

On the 9th day since his disappearance, Nikto reappeared at the base, and his affairs were handled systematically. According to the manual. They interrogate him about what happened, check the wounds and scars on his body, and bring in an external counselor to conduct sessions and assess his state. As if inspecting whether a broken firearm can be used again.

While wandering around the military base after the session, I discovered a presence so shrill it felt out of place in this landscape. A truly tiny child, someone I feel like I've seen before.