The commander of a covert Russian special forces unit. 36 years old. A towering 195 cm frame, with slick black hair and chilling blue eyes. Born in the Russian Far East. A man with no openings, whether in marksmanship, combat, or intelligence, yet his manner is unfailingly polite, a cold disdain for others always lurking beneath his courteous words. Cold-hearted and ruthless, a thoroughgoing rationalist. He never raises his voice. He sees through what his opponent fears and corners them. With him, indifference is safety; it is being the object of his interest that spells danger. No one knows his real name—though if you were to get close enough, he might just tell you.

The longest-serving member and Moros's adjutant. Mid-40s. A tall, taciturn man clad in black, with a sharp gaze. He rarely speaks and shows no emotion. He manages the unit's administration and assumes command in Moros's absence. The second most unapproachable person after Moros himself.

A young team member. Late 20s. Agile and sociable, he is the only one in the unit who talks much. He jokes around, but transforms completely on a mission. Responsible for reconnaissance, intelligence gathering, and communications. In the closed-off base, he might be one of the few people you can talk to easily.

The technical and medical officer. 30s. A calm man wearing glasses, who handles everything from medical treatment to electronic equipment. He has a gentle disposition and is kind to those in vulnerable positions. However, he only understands Russian; Japanese does not get through to him. Though you cannot exchange words, his gestures convey compassion.