Nikita

Personal Info

Born and raised in the slums, she believed that only strength could grant one anything of worth. By sheer force of will and blade, she subdued the entire district she once called home, earning the vagrants' reverence as the "Queen of the Slums".
Because of that past, she never showed the same disdain toward Scavengers that most Explorers carried. Instead, she regarded them with a quiet, enduring sense of sympathy.

She was free-spirited and untamed, acting with swift decisiveness—once a thought crossed her mind, she moved on it at once, never one to hesitate.
Straightforward to a fault, she repaid kindness twice over—but anyone who wronged her would find no forgiveness, nor escape her reckoning.
Though she favored strength above all and often settled matters with her fists, the records spoke clearly of her nature.
In many operations, she displayed sharp instinct and strategy—far from the reckless fighter she seemed at first glance.

Chronicles

I happened to pass through that area and saw a few vagrants bullying a child. I could not stand by and watch, so I stepped in and saved her...
But all I taught her were a few basic techniques—just enough for her to survive on that wretched street, nothing more.
Yet when I met her again, I could scarcely believe she was the same girl...
To reach such heights with nothing but the rudimentary skills I had given her... that was not something effort alone could achieve. So I brought her into the Abyss, hoping she might advance even further.
—Nikita's Mentor

Ever since the Big Sis took over this part of the district, everyone had to hand over their goods, and she was the one who decided how things got distributed.
At first, nobody liked it—but none of us could beat her. Even if we ganged up on her, it'd only take her a little longer to knock us flat, so folks learned to behave.
She may be gone now, but the rules she set still stand. And if anyone thinks about breaking them, we're the ones who throw them out.
—A Slum Thug

Nikita grew up here as a child, living at first with a vagrant who took her in. But when the vagrant was later found dead in the street, she vanished for a time as well.
When she finally returned, she was already a fierce fighter. It didn't take her long to put every thug in the area in their place.
She seemed overbearing at times, yes, but she was fair, never reckless. And with her around, the thugs kept themselves in check, and our whole block finally knew some peace.
—A Slum Resident

With Miss Nikita's strength, any expedition team would see its combat power soar if she were willing to join.
But her temper can be unpredictable—one moment she's joking around as if nothing matters, and the next she's furious over the smallest thing.
And whenever she sees an Explorer bullying a Scavenger or stirring up trouble in front of her, she steps in without hesitation and gives them no chance to walk away unscathed.
— An Explorer

Record

Though Nikita carries herself with bold confidence, she never acts provocatively toward the other members.
She does feel the urge to test her strength against some of the stronger teammates, but if they turn her down, she never insists.

Outside of battle, Nikita often lounges around with lazy ease or slips away to train on her own, rarely involving herself in planning or other preparatory work.
To her, only matters of combat truly matter—and on those, she never compromises.
Whenever a mission involves a fight, she is always the first to volunteer.
No opponent ever intimidates her; in fact, the stronger the foe, the more exhilarated she becomes.

Whenever she speaks of her mentor, Nikita tends to use sharp, defiant words—but even then, the respect and gratitude beneath them are unmistakable.
Perhaps, for her, opening her heart to others is far more difficult than any battle.

Anecdote

Inside a dilapidated wooden shack, a little girl set a makeshift "cake" down in front of a man to celebrate his birthday.
The man was taken aback; as one of the lowest on this street, he knew all too well what such a "cake" was worth.
It was not something one could obtain through simple charity—it had to be wrested from other, stronger vagrants.
Once, to get even a small piece for his daughter's birthday, he had taken no small number of beatings from the other drifters, and even that had been nothing compared to the "cake" she had brought him now.
A faint unease stirred in him, but when he saw the look of bright expectation on his daughter's face, he let the feeling go and chalked it up to her good fortune.
As father and daughter were sharing that hard-won treat, the shack's door was kicked open and a gang of vagrants came looking for them.
To take revenge on the girl who had dared trespass into another district and even lay hands on their "fixed income", they had decided to make sure the two of them disappeared for good...

When facing ordinary townsfolk, these vagrants cowered and groveled, but when it came to weaker drifters or the poor, they showed no mercy at all.
Before long, the rickety shack collapsed with a deafening crash, and the girl's father lay motionless in the street.
Dragging her wounded body, the girl struggled to crawl across the dirt while several vagrants laughed wildly behind her.
She wanted to follow her father into death, yet even in his final moment he had fought to shield her, to keep her alive.
She did not want to crawl any farther, but the moment she stopped, the blows and kicks rained down without pause.
Regret, frustration, fury, guilt—every emotion tore through her mind at once.
She hated their cruelty. She hated her own powerlessness.
She wanted strength—strength to protect herself, strength to defend her father, strength simply to keep living.
At the mouth of the alley, a middle-aged man let out a long sigh and walked toward her...

After he drove the vagrants away and tended to her wounds as best he could, the man prepared to leave.
But the girl clung tightly to his leg.
In that moment, she knew with absolute certainty that the man before her was someone who could give her the strength she longed for...