The officer named Daniel quickly knelt beside Justin, his face set in a solemn expression as he assessed the situation.
"His lower body was crushed by the building, and his heart is too weak," the officer said, his voice grim.
"He's dying. I'll do first aid, but you need to hold his hand tightly, kid."
Oliver, trembling slightly, did as he was told. He grasped Justin's hand with all his strength, feeling the cold, clammy skin beneath his fingers. The life that once filled his friend seemed to be slipping away, and the thought made Oliver's heart ache.
The officer began hands-only CPR, pushing hard and fast on Justin's chest.
Each compression sent a shockwave through Oliver's body, a constant reminder of how fragile life was. Minutes ticked by slowly, each one feeling like an eternity. The officer performed the CPR with focused determination, delivering an average of 120 pushes on Justin's chest.
Sweat dripped from his brow, mixing with the dirt and blood on his uniform.
The sound of distant sirens began to fill the air, gradually growing louder as the ambulance neared. Oliver's heart raced with hope and fear, his grip on Justin's hand tightening as if willing him to hold on just a little longer.
"S-sir, the ambulance has arrived," Oliver managed to say, his voice shaky.
Daniel, still concentrating on his task, let out a relieved sigh.
"Finally. Even with CPR, it's hard to keep this kid alive." His gaze flicked to Justin's mangled legs.
"The main cause of his problem is his crushed leg."
Oliver's eyes followed the officer's, landing on the sight of Justin's lower half. The damage was severe, far worse than he had realized. The sight made his stomach churn, and he had to force himself to keep looking, to stay strong for his friend.
The ambulance pulled up, and the medics quickly took over, lifting Justin's limp body onto a stretcher. They worked with practiced efficiency, their faces masks of professionalism as they prepared Justin for transport. Oliver followed closely, his heart heavy with worry.
"I hope that kid is okay," Daniel murmured as he watched the medics work. His voice held a note of sadness, of shared pain.
"Take care of yourself, kid," He again said, his eyes meeting Oliver's for a brief moment.
"I have to rescue the others who are injured." With that, he turned and ran toward another area where his help was needed.
----
Inside the ambulance, Oliver sat beside Justin, watching as the medics worked to stabilize his friend. The sight of Justin lying so still, his face pale and drawn, filled Oliver with a deep sadness.
'You must survive, Justin,' Oliver thought, his eyes never leaving Justin's face.
'Please, you have to.'
As the ambulance sped through the streets, Oliver's mind drifted back to everything he had done in the miniature world.
He remembered the bloodbath he had caused, the countless lives he had taken without a second thought and without any remorse. In those moments, he had felt powerful, invincible. But now, that power seemed hollow, meaningless.
'I acted like the monsters of this world,' he thought, the weight of his actions pressing down on him.
'If I hadn't wasted so much time destroying the strongholds of Kano... i could save many people of this world.'
The arrogance that had filled his heart during those battles was gone now, replaced by a deep sense of regret. He had thought himself invincible, but he was reminded now of how weak he truly was.
He was just a human, vulnerable and fragile, who had nearly been killed by a flying monster.
The ambulance arrived at the hospital, and the medics rushed Justin inside. Oliver followed, his mind a whirl of guilt and fear. Justin's body was handed over to the doctors, and Oliver could only stand back, watching helplessly as they wheeled his friend away.
----
Three hours passed, each one dragging on like a lifetime. Oliver sat in the waiting area, lost in his thoughts. The self-blame gnawed at him, making it impossible to think of anything else.
The guilt was like a heavy chain, wrapping around his heart and pulling him down into a pit of despair.
Then, the light above the operation room door turned green, and the doctors began to emerge, their faces tired but focused. Oliver jumped to his feet, his heart pounding in his chest.
"Doctor, how is he?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.
The doctor, a middle-aged man with deep lines etched into his face, sighed softly.
"The patient is alive, but his lower legs are severely damaged. Unless he is healed by top healers, he won't be able to walk again."
The words hit Oliver like a punch to the gut. He clenched his fists, feeling helpless and angry at the same time.
'I hope there are some kind of healing world treasures in the miniature world,' he thought desperately.
He knew that top healers were rare, often poached by the main cities of Human Federation. The chances of finding one were slim to none.
The doctor then continued,
"There's no need to pay for the medical fee. I checked, and he already has life insurance in his name. The city will cover the costs."
He paused, then added,
"He's in a coma now. Based on my experience, he should wake up in two to three days."
----
The night passed quickly, but Oliver found no rest. His mind was anything but calm, plagued by thoughts of what had happened and what he could have done differently.
Sleep was impossible, so he wandered the streets of the Eastern District, trying to clear his head.
But everywhere he looked, there was destruction. The sight of broken buildings and the remnants of battle only added to his irritation and sadness. The weight of the day's events hung over him like a dark cloud, and no matter how far he walked, he couldn't escape it.
'What have I done? I have caused much more destruction than this in miniature world' he thought, his steps slowing as he looked out over the ruined landscape.
Looking around the surrounding, his childish mentality slowly began to change.