"Oh really? That's even better," Riley said, eyes lighting up with a dangerous thrill. "I thought I was late for the party. Come on, old man! Let me fight too and help repel the invaders."
The old man's expression instantly darkened. His gaze—ancient, weathered, and heavy with countless lifetimes of regret—fell on Riley like a hammer.
"You're a fool," he said bluntly. "A reckless fool who doesn't understand the scale of what he's asking for. You'll just die. Even in our heyday—when our strength was at its absolute peak—we couldn't beat them. We fought… and we failed. Every single time."
He shook his head slowly, as though revisiting memories too painful to speak aloud.
"And now? In our weakened state? Joining that battle is nothing but begging for a quick death. Don't look for me again."
Before Riley could respond, the old man's body flickered—first becoming translucent, then evaporating into the air like a wisp of smoke carried by a breeze.
