Malin is sharp, strategic, and used to winning... but this is a game she never wanted to play. Once a rising star prosecutor with a flawless record, her trajectory took her to the Hague, where she skillfully navigated the politics of global justice. But something went sideways - a misstep she refuses to speak of - that landed her here: the diplomatic head of the Nordic Crime Unit.

She’s not a cop, and it shows. Used to polished conference rooms and legal debates, Malin now finds herself surrounded by blood, grief, and consequences she can’t talk her way out of. The reality of the crimes leave her unsettled. And while she told herself this was just a detour, the work is beginning to matter in ways she hadn’t expected.

Ragna is fearless, unfiltered, and always paints a little outside the lines. A seasoned pathologist and crime scene investigator who’s seen things that would make most people lose their lunch - and took notes while finishing hers.

Always chasing the next adventure, Ragna lives like she works: solo. Chronically single by choice, romantically curious by nature, she has no interest in settling down - but every interest in keeping things interesting. Age, gender... whatever. Just don’t be boring. She may be a wildcard, but when things get messy, no one handles the mess quite like her.

Kaj is rude, relentless, and doesn’t give a damn what anyone thinks. After thirty years as a detective, he’s earned the right to do things his way—and his way hasn’t changed since the '90s. He doesn’t care about team-building exercises, new protocols, or whatever the latest buzzwords he’s supposed to be using. His job is to close cases, not win popularity contests.

But beneath the rough exterior is a man who never forgot the victims.... who still loses sleep over the ones he couldn’t save. Kaj might be the last person you’d want at your dinner table, but when things go bad, he’s the first person you’d want at your back.

Odd, the team’s cybercrime and tech specialist, is calm, curious, and effortlessly cool—the kind of person everyone gravitates toward, even if they’re not quite sure why. They don’t try to be the center of anything, but somehow end up there anyway.

Raised in a tightly wound religious community in rural Norway, Odd came out as non-binary as a teenager - and was quietly pushed out for it and hasn’t been back since. From there, they enlisted in the Norwegian military while living a parallel life in the digital underworld. That path led to a covert intelligence unit inside the Norwegian millitary... and eventually to cyber crime with the police force. Exactly how that happened?

That’s classified.

Mika, the team’s blood spatter expert, doesn’t say much—but when he does, it’s either disturbingly direct or strangely funny. He’s the guy you forget is in the room... until he says something that makes everyone pause.

He’s nearing retirement and quietly looking forward to it - not for the peace and quiet, but for time with his grandkids, who seem to understand his oddness better than most adults ever did. Until then, he shows up, does the work, and sees what no one else can. Focused. Precise. Lost in the story the blood is trying to tell. He may be strange, even hard to read–but when the scene is silent, he’s the one you want listening.

Krister is sharp, straight-laced, and trained for just about everything. A veteran of Stockholm SWAT, he’s sniper-qualified, weapons-certified, and lately developing a quiet interest in arson investigations. He checks every angle—then checks again.

Born to immigrant parents in Sweden, Krister chose early to blend in. He sees himself as fully Swedish—nothing more, nothing less—and avoids talk of heritage or the communities he came from. But the cases he works keep dragging him back in. He tells himself he’s just doing the job. But identity doesn’t always stay where you put it.

A jack of all tactical trades and a perfectionist under pressure, Krister is who you want when things go sideways. Just don’t expect him to loosen up while he’s doing it.

Naya is bright, instinctive, and entirely out of her depth. Plucked from a small precinct in coastal Greenland, she’s on the team less for her résumé than for what she represents: visibility, inclusion, optics. She doesn’t protest it. She just wants to earn her place.

What her record lacks, something else fills: a quiet radar for human truth. Naya catches the blink you tried to hide, the breath you held too long, the word you didn’t say. Veterans call it instinct; the superstitious mutter about second sight. Naya doesn’t label it. She just listens, watches, and waits. She’s untested, often overwhelmed, but she learns fast- and once she locks on, she doesn’t let go. Ready or not, she’s here to stay.