Slow contemplative push-in on the broken trunk and fallen olive wreath, morning god-rays breaking through mist, the ghostly heroic silhouette of young Milon slowly fading away, dust motes drifting, reflective closing tone. Off-screen voiceover (all characters have their mouths closed, no one is speaking on screen): Narrator: "Его погубила не старость — а вера в свою непобедимость. Случайность…...
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