The old man hesitated as the ship's hatch opened with a smooth, hydraulic hiss. The bluish light pouring from within painted the ground in a strange glow—soft, foreign, and oddly serene.
But the old man took a step back.
"No… I will not," he said, his voice shaking. "I have to find Jian… I have to find him. I'm not getting in there."
His voice cracked at the end, and his fingers curled into trembling fists. There was desperation in his eyes—the kind that came from a man who had lost too much already.
Xing Yu stepped forward quietly. The forest behind them rustled with the quiet descent of the second ship, its thrusters now easing into a soft hum.
"Jian is out there," Xing Yu said gently, "and he's in danger from those nasty Graylings. He needs protection. I can't do that if I'm protecting you too. So please… get in."
The old man's cloudy eyes began to glisten again, his chest heaving. "Graylings…" he whispered. "What…"
