Michael walked away and thought he could hear his heart tearing in two.

He did not hear her say, "I'm not afraid," but if he had, it would have brought him no comfort. He was afraid enough for both of them; he knew what Section was capable of far better than she. Operations would admit no challenge to his authority, especially after Adrian's coup attempt. Nikita had walked that line many times, and he had steadied her on the tightrope. But this time, she had nearly brought down Section.

He walked on.

Only Nikita could be sent on a mission to save Section and almost destroy it in the process. Only she would have the audacity to challenge Operations and Madeline at the moment of their triumph. Michael knew that Nikita did not believe he had any sense of morality. She was wrong. He trusted in what Section did. He was highly placed. He had seen the sims Operations had run. Fifty million deaths was the conservative estimate. He had trusted in her ability to make the correct decision, and she had.

He walked, without sense of direction or purpose.

And now she would die. After everything he had done, everything he had risked to keep her alive. His own death meant nothing to him, as he knew hers meant nothing to her. But the thought of her impending cancellation was a burning ache in his chest. She hadn't run, as he knew she wouldn't. She hadn't betrayed Adrian. He now knew that she had been following orders. She had known he would betray her to Section, and in doing so, he had made it possible for the mission to succeed. It didn't matter. He had betrayed her again.

He walked blindly past his office.

He had failed her in so many ways. Time and again she had offered him her heart, and he had stalled, had looked her in the eyes and lied, had shut her down with an empty stare. He was unworthy of her. That was a truth as real to him as his own pain. But he hadn't been able to stop the moments of hope. The unguarded moments when her eyes, her smile, her love had evaded his defenses and etched themselves on his soul. Or what was left of it.

He walked in the dark, unused corridors of Section.

And now, because of his unworthiness, he was unable to spend the last few hours with her. There was no point in showing her his love now, when it could do neither of them any good. He knew now that he could not live without her. The six months she had been gone had shown him that. He would wait until it was over, and then he would follow her into death and blessed oblivion.

He walked on.