The words were simple, almost mundane, yet they carried something far heavier—a gesture of peace, a human touch amid immortal weight, and a quiet reminder that even immortals could experience small moments of connection and normalcy.
For a long time, there was no reply.
The desert itself seemed to hold its breath.
Jagged craters and towering pillars of sand stood frozen, as though the very land dared not disturb the fragile equilibrium between the two immortals.
The wind stilled.
The heat dulled.
Even the shifting dunes seemed to pause mid-motion, suspended in a moment stretched thin by power, history, and unspoken emotion.
Riley watched her closely.
He did not rush her.
He did not speak.
Instead, he observed.
He noticed the subtle shifts in her posture, the nearly imperceptible relaxation of her shoulders, the way her clenched fingers loosened just slightly.
The faint crease of her brow, carved by centuries of struggle and resentment, softened by a fraction.
