A moment later, the door closed with a soft click, leaving the room wrapped in silence once more.
Riley exhaled slowly, letting his body sink deeper into the pillows.
For a while, he did nothing.
No movement. No sound.
Then, gradually, his expression changed.
The weakness remained—but the passivity faded.
His eyes sharpened.
"…Let's see," he murmured faintly.
He began to take stock of himself—not just physically, but entirely.
The original Riley of this world had been nothing more than a sickly noble, someone whose life had always hung by a thread.
Years of frailty, endless tonics, physicians coming and going… and yet none of it had mattered in the end.
He had died quietly.
No struggle. No resistance.
Just a body that finally gave out.
And in that moment of death… something else had taken its place.
Riley.
An existence that had once stood far beyond the limits of mortality.
An immortal—now trapped within a body that could barely sustain basic life.
