Birkoff's POV

"No! Nikita is DEAD!" I spit vehemently. I saw the anguish and disbelief cross Michael's face and felt immediate regret. Michael looked as though I had just plunged a knife into his back. "She's dead….Michael…" I reiterated…. this time a little softer, regret lacing my voice. "I was listening in on the comms, she d….". I couldn't bring myself to finish the sentence. For a moment I forgot my anger at Michael's betrayal of me and wanted nothing more than to comfort this man, my friend, who had lost more and suffered more than anyone should in one lifetime. But my wounded pride and indignation soon buried any remorse or compassion I felt. "I warned her what would happen if she went up against Percy….." I wanted desperately to stop this verbal attack but to my disgust I continued my tone growing more and more spiteful. "you warned her too…then you joined her…encouraged her…that was your choice." In that moment I saw the light leave his eyes…his spirit now completely broken. I had to get out of that room. I couldn't bring myself to look at him another moment.

Michael's POV

"That's because my eyes are open….Nikta's right!" For a moment I thought perhaps I could get through to Birkoff. Maybe I could convince him to join us! No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than I heard him say four words that pierced through my body like an arrow. "NO! Nikita's dead"! Dead? I must have heard him wrong…she can't be dead. This must be some lie Percy told Birkoff to tell me. While I would not put it past Percy…I can't believe Birkoff my supposed friend would try and hurt me this way. This is obviously a trick…but what do they hope to learn? As I try to unscramble my thoughts I hear Birkoff speak again. "She's dead Michael…I was listening in on the comms she…" I hear sadness and regret in his voice and when I bring myself to look in his eyes I see truth. I want to scream and yell but I can't seem to find my voice. Birkoff is still talking but I find myself unable to process anything apart from the fact that Nikita is dead. My Nikita is dead. The pain is unbearable! I hear the door close and realize I am now alone. Alone…I'm alone. I am flooded with memories of my girl and my legs suddenly give out the sheer weight of my sorrow too much to withstand. As I collapse to the ground I feel my cuffed arm wrench and it doesn't take a doctor to tell its dislocated. I hardly even notice. The anguish of my heart being ripped out of my chest far surpassing any physical pain.