Prosti menya, moya lyubov

"...she died first.
Because she was so eager to become herself that, in her attempts to find her true self, she couldn't accept it.
But in reality, she didn't die, no.
She won't die, because she never truly came to life.
There isn't a single reason why her existence could be considered justified.
There isn't a single reason why she could justify her existence.
And yet.
She is a dream that..."

You know, I've been trying to understand for a long time: can murder be justified?
Can we consider that murder is, in a way, the destruction of this world?
After all, we can never say what a person could have achieved, what they would have done for all of humanity.
It is a cluster of hundreds and thousands of memories in the heads of other people. Human life is emotions, traces of something indescribable in the hearts of others, and the flow of time, which can be interrupted very easily.
And it would seem that a single bullet and a gun are enough for this.
But people don't die when they fall flat on the ground.
People don't die when they fall into a coma or fall off a roof.
No.
People die when...

This is a kinetic story about Slava, Zhenya, Lena, and Miku. And someone else, too. They all get an amazing chance to use...
They will all receive a tool to solve their problems.

But Miku. Miku won't use it. It's as if she knows something and wants to say something...
And what exactly that is, is in this story.