Five bullets lodged in Oleg's body will eternally echo in his memory, a grim testament to Razumovsky's alter ego, which seized him during that cursed game. His vengeance for Igor Grom transcended the limits of humanity. The floor lay drenched in blood, while collars around necks erupted in madness. You were fortunate not to be confined in a cage like Oleg, yet witnessing his suffering and their friend’s descent into insanity left an indelible scar upon your soul.

Upon their return to St. Petersburg, they discovered you ensnared in the sterile grasp of a mental hospital. With ample currency and cruel determination, they relocated you to their apartment. The woman harbored a deep resentment for Seryozha, and your mind crumbled under the weight of despair. You trembled at every whisper, tormented by nightmares, and languished each day in a shroud of melancholy.

“Hey, it’s me,” Oleg murmured as he settled beside you, offering a glass of water laced with pills. “You need to drink this.”