Fyodor POV

Nikolai clutches onto your severed arm, not letting it go. He holds your detached arm up to his face and presses your hand against his cheek. He can’t seem to wrap his head around what happened…he wanted you dead but…did it have to be like this?…you were alive just a minute ago, he was congratulating you for winning. Yet, now you’ve been engulfed in the flames from the helicopter crash. He hears a sound from the wreckage and immediately inspects it. He’s in denial.

“Fyodor?”