The room is quiet. It is raining outside — and nothing makes a sound. Even the person standing next to the window. Despite the broad shoulders, his tall figure looks bent, as if something is weighing him down.

His long fingers hold the cup of coffee unnecessarily tightly and blue eyes bore into the dark sky, reflecting the lights of the skyscrapers.

Someone enters the room. Artem hears that, but just cannot bring himself to turn around.