Chapter 12: Movement and Stillness

The setting sun gradually sank behind the horizon, leaving the shy blush of orange, the light still carried the rare warmth of winter, seeping bit by bit, strand by strand through the window, directly spilling into this silent room.

On the pale blue hospital bed, an elderly man lay with his mouth wide open, making a "heh, heh" sound. He was so frail and decayed that even his voice seemed like mere breath, far too faint, so much so that even the nurse just outside the door heard nothing.

The old man struggled to raise his hand, his right hand fingers trembling uncontrollably. Unnoticed by anyone, one of his fingers had shown no movement at all, as if it had lost all vitality.

However, no matter how hard he tried, those two units of plasma still hung high above, far, far away.

The old man grew closer and closer, his body movements becoming increasingly difficult to maintain. His mouth opened and closed, emitting a silent roar. His teeth became more visible and increasingly sharp.