It wasn't the time to just sit and do nothing. There was much more to do. But how much heart can you break off a poor soul? How much life can you pull out of a poor body? Samuel felt his breath slowly wavering away. The man he had left in that room was still alive. He could still be saved.
The man dropped his palms down on the ground while he was still kneeling. The air stayed still in his lungs, neither getting in nor out. His bones trembled, and his forehead sweated. If he had to count how many times he had witnessed a death, he wouldn't be able to put it into numbers, let alone words, let alone thoughts.
"Please." Mikhail helplessly murmured, standing up on his stumbling legs. "I believe in you." His eyes teared up uncontrollably. "I believe in your strength, Samuel." He added. "One last step. I believe you'll follow up."
