[Salone]

Ignoring his body's pleas to stop, Lev slowly pulled himself up. He was at the point of living on borrowed time, yet he was oblivious to the fact. He tried to speak, his voice hoarse and weak. The wound on his neck was still bleeding freely as he force his throat to make sounds.

"We need move. Dybbuk not st-stay down long."

He took a shaky step forward, oblivious to Rue on top of Dante, or even of Dante's previous assault. His mind was completely focused on moving forward. Somewhere among the carnage, his revolver lay free.