Nikita

After thanking Reginia, Nikita went to Liza, the hospital director. He didn't have any good news, but he hoped that the doctor had something for him. Fuck, there were surgeries in progress, and maybe the doctors in the OR were the only people safe for whatever this was, but were they?

"Liza, what's the status?" Nikita asked when the director opened the door for him. She looked anxious and worn out, almost like she wanted everything to end, but that would make the two of them.

The handsome doctor in front of him always had no will to live, but for some reason, Nikita was determined to save the lives of the people in this hospital. It was almost like he had told his depression and mental issues to take a break and that they would resume when the chaos was over.

He wanted to focus on the problems at hand. He wanted to decipher what was going on, and he couldn't do that when the voices in his head were getting louder.

He had known that the only way to make them shut up was to take his antidepressants, which he had prescribed for himself, something that any therapist would never approve of. Still, Nikita Rostova Pavlenko had already had enough of everything the green earth could offer him.

"I should be asking you that. You had me lockdown a whole major hospital. Do you realize how risky that is? If my ȧss gets fired, you're coming with me, kid," Liza said as Nikita slumped down on the seat next to hers.

What was he supposed to tell her? Maybe the truth would be an excellent place to start with.

"I didn't lie, doc, I promise. The pathologist ȧssigned to the bodies isn't in our system, yet he worked on these bodies. Not to mention we already gave him one more body today. This is no coincidence, doc.

The patients showing up and slumping here at Todorov? Like how many times does that happen in a week? It's already happened here twice, so much for my liking and too detailed for this shit to be coincidental," Nikita explained.

He really hoped the director could understand him because they really had no time to sit and reminisce, but what if the truth did lie within the reminiscent? 

"Why would someone want to infiltrate Todorov?" the doctor asked the most obvious question. What would anyone actually gain by coming in and triggering panic states from the patients and staff?

What was there for them to do that would put an end to this madness? Of course, trying to fix shit without a source would be complicated.

"There's a lot you don't know," Nikita sighed defeatedly, his shoulders slumping. He was blaming himself for all that had happened.

Sure, it was never his fault, and the world wasn't even blaming him, but he was guilty of being born of intelligent parents who created a virus that got their whole family killed and his brother captured and with no one wot help him with the trauma.

Thinking of Yuri Made Nikita want to spill blood, but what was the use? He didn't know shit about how the system worked, but he would find out. After all, he had a legion of hackers at his beck and call, serving him in all the possible ways.

"You know something about this, don't you?" Liza asked slowly. She thought Qiao showing up at the hospital was weird, and they had been talking about some stupid ȧss video; there had to be a link.

All that happened earlier today was no coincidence. The sun had already set on the outside, but within Todorov, their hopes were dwindling, and they had one too many questions.

"Unfortunately, yeah," Nikita says before asking Liza, "has Qiao Xi showed up here again?" If his best friend came here too, then they would bring their heads together to decode this, but they had a rogue pathologist to look for.

A man or woman who was parenting to be on their side was bidding for the killswitch masters.

"No, the soldier boy hasn't come back. Why?" Liza asked. She was getting calls and messages from so many people that she had decided to unplug the telephone line in her office and shut down her phone.

She knew they had questions, but even she had to queries too. They could at least let her and Nikita have a chat so they could make out what was happening here. It wasn't like Christmas was coming anytime soon.

"We need to find Qiao. He was here when the second killswitch victim fell. There's a chance he is also affected. I can't lose the only other family I have left," Nikita ranted, almost forgetting that he was in the same space as a doctor that was more freaked out than he was already. 

"Nikita—" Liza called him, but he was lost in his world, trying to decipher the impossible. He had to ensure everyone was safe, so they didn't all die like his family. It seemed like Nikita's mental health issues had refused to take a break because right now, the doctor was anxious as fuċk.

"We're in danger, doc," Nikita said as he watched the pathology department's footage for the hundredth time. ReginIa had shared it with him, and he still couldn't believe it.

"Nikita—"

"Here, take a look at this—" Nikita said, but Liza had enough of the lost doctor. Bothe their jobs were on the line, and the lives of so many were on the line too. The impact that Todorov's lockdown created was a lot.

It was something unheard of, and they were in Liza's office because she couldn't handle taking any calls from anyone or even meeting with the other staff members. She would brief them once she had the information she needed.

"Mykolajki Pavlenko! Snap out of it and explain to me what the fuċk is happening in my hospital," Liza said to Nikita, bringing back the doctor to the realm of the l iving. He had been so lost in his mind even to remember why he was here in the first place.

"Sorry, doc," Nikita said before he explained the horrors of his life to the director. He didn't tell her everything, though, and he told her enough that it was related to the hospital. He didn't tell her that Kyle was already looking into Natalya and her entire family tree.

He didn't tell her that they were in danger because of him or even the virus his parents were working on, and he figured that would put her in more danger than she already was. And he didn't want anyone's blood on his hands.

Maybe they would be okay, just maybe.