Ephraim had never felt sicker before as he watches three people struggle for their lives. He rigidified his grip around his sword. There must be something he could do. There SHOULD be something he could do.
But Ephraim had seen what the necromorph could do. Charging without any plan at hand would be SUICIDE. He had to strategize. But how can one strategize when clearly the other party seems to be too overpowered.
How can one find the answers when there isn't one?
But Ephraim had someone he needed to protect. It was in his hands now to save them. He wasn't in a fictitious movie. There aren't any Marvel nor DC characters to save them at the last minute. It was only him now and Sam. And he was the only one with the weapon.
He got to do something. Because no one else would.
Ephraim took a deep breath. He had made up his mind. "Samuel, go inside the door!"
"Wh-what?!"
