He takes the hint. All he needed was the excuse. Everything in him breathes a sigh of relief, glad to be moving, as he hauls himself onto shaking legs, ducks his head, and takes off again, pausing only to throw a glance over his shoulder at the Cornucopia--

He sees, from the corner of his eye, Sigma slow beside him, but he's got his momentum up, and his mind responds to his attempt to slow down with a flat, furious NO. "Doctor-- Are you--?"

He's dead. He's as good as dead. There's nothing you can do. This is what he tells himself, as he runs. But there's something in him that simply doesn't want to see him die-- because maybe death is contagious. Maybe if he runs from the end, death will not chase after him. Maybe if he does not see the end, he can trick it out of his mind, and maybe he will even sleep tonight, and not see the cybernetic eye glaring, and the wires coated in white not-blood, and see the twitching of his limbs.

Now go win. He laughs as he runs, and it's half a sob. I hate to disappoint you, old man.

But for now, he's alive; maybe Sigma will awaken in the Capitol (the Capitol that murdered him) and see him on the screens, and know he made it this far. Maybe.

Neffa turns his back, and runs.