Nikita

Rael's anger had paid off, or maybe they were just in for a whole new ride. They don't know what they were supposed to do with the information they were looking at, but at least one of them would know what to do.

It was almost like having to relive the worst nightmare they ever had. It wasn't going to be easy; hell, life as a loner was never easy, but here and now, they all wanted their boss, and if they couldn't get him through hacking, then they would put their training to good use.

And they were cruel, way too brutal than Qiao and Carrie combined. Maybe that could explain why they all seemed to have anger issues when they were just committed to their duties. When Nikita ȧssembled his people, he ensured they got the training at all ends.

Of course, very few of them were hackers, but he had them undergo training in a private facility. And it wasn't just a facility to teach them hacking; no. he would teach them how to hack through life and circumstances himself.

Nikita needed to ensure they would defend themselves. That was the only way he would ever be confident in their abilities, not just to do the job, he knew they could do the job, but he needed to be convinced that his legion would be able to fight in the face of adversity and protect themselves.

He had always made it clear to them that they were important, and he had trained them in that sense and right now, here in this room, with a hundred of them both online and in the facility, they were determined to get the answers and their boss, hell be damned.

"Well, I'll be damned," Morgana said when they finally found the footage of Nikita's office. The good doctor seemed to be sleeping, but was he really? They couldn't see much from the camera angle, but at least they knew he was at the hospital. So it was just a matter of when they would walk in there for him.

"Since when does the boss sleep that much?" Dave asked when he rummaged through the footage. It would seem that Nikita had been sleeping for over six hours which was weird, especially for a person that preferred doing anything else other than sleep.

The curse of Nikita's nightmares haunted him more than life itself, and while he was tempted to run away from it all, there was just no coming out of this one so fast. The sedation had been done twice since his friend thought he really needed the sleep.

However, it seemed like they were drugging him from the legion's point of view, and frankly, it was unsettling for them. 

"Wait, Zoom in on Qiao," Kyle said.

From the feed they were watching, Qiao had just come out for his session with Samantha, and it was only right that he was angry.

It was almost like gratifying the perpetrators for bringing down the Rostova plane. There was more to life, and there was more to everything around them, but at the moment, they were all worried for the doctor who refused to have his PTSD treated—the man who chose everyone over himself.

"He looks so angry," Dave said, noticing the obvious. Maybe this was a good time to tell them that Liza hadn't lied, but clearly, it wouldn't change anything and not how they felt about the sys tem. Still, they needed to get the kill-switch camera no matter the outcome.

If someone was planting kill-switches in people and controlling them with it, they had to be stopped. It wasn't a moral way to live their lives, not that anyone cared about morality. Well, the legion cared about orality when it came to their family affairs.

"Focus, mate," Kyle said. They needed to get as much information as they could get from the feeds. Of course, they had all the access right now, but the one they were focused on the most wasn't giving them what they needed.

They needed to know whether the good doctor was okay or all of this was just a ruse.

Maggie was seated next to Nikita's bed, watching him sleep even though he seemed to be having another nightmare from the way he kept fidgeting. She wished she would take it all away, but some things were naturally impossible.

Nikita needed to take care of himself, and he needed to be there for himself. He needed to be the person he was for everyone, only this time, and he needed to be his own savior.

Maggie, Liza, Carrie, Qiao, and the Rostova legion could only do so much before they all failed because the only way to help a mental health patient was they were willing to. Besides, what was there for him to be told that he hadn't told other patients anyway?

It was almost like he knew the solution to everything but couldn't do anything about it because he didn't want to. It was as simple as that.

"Oh my God," Rael said again, making everyone look at her. If she were going to keep gasping and praying every single time, then a heads up would be nice because her voice alone could make someone get a heart attack if she gave them the news.

What was it this time?

"This is fuċkėd up real bad," Rael said like they all didn't know it was all fuċkėd up.

Now that the civilians could walk into Todorov and get their friends and families, it could only mean that one of the people who would walk in the hospital was Nikita's hater or rather, someone who had been hired to ensure the doctor didn't cause any trouble.

However, the situation was somewhat hilarious.

They were worried about the good doctor, and he hadn't even done anything yet. He had only told his right-hand man to get his legion together. That was the only thing he did, which could have even been done at any time because they were always family.

Nikita threatened his enemies, and he was sedated, unaware of what the world was thinking of him, so what more when he began hunting for them before he left Todorov? Would they still be waiting for him or looking for him, or would they go into hiding?

There was, after all, a reason why everyone was worried about Nikita and who he would become if ever he had grown up. Which he did, and he looked so good that even those who hated staring would always find themselves staring at the beautiful Asian man with Russian names.

There was no distinction, but damn, Nikita was a sight to behold and a powerful man.

He was, after all, himself.