Demetri entered Erasmi's room, relief washing over him to find Erasmi had been placed in a wheelchair. As he moved, he suddenly had a feeling that Erasmi had indeed reacte with a flicker of his eyes. "Erasmi?" he called out, the anticipation in his voice echoing in the sterile room hoping that the slight movement was not his own illusion. However, there was no response. The hope that had briefly ignited began to wane, replaced by a deep sadness.
"Until when are you going to punish me? hmm?"
Demetri pulled a chair closer, his gaze fixed on Erasmi's still form. "Erasmi?" he called again, a mixture of hope and uncertainty in his voice. The room remained silent, save for the hum of medical equipment.
The man who had been attending to Erasmi knocked and entered at this time, his expression reflecting the weight of the situation. "Mr. Frost, I've been monitoring Erasmi's condition closely.
