Even gradual changes became apparent at one point. For me, the more I learnt about the mechanics of keeping someone—myself, first of all—alive and young indefinitely, the more I noticed the signs of age in the surrounding people.
Most of them were as young as I was, and as far as I didn't search for the new wrinkles at the edges of their eyes with a spotlight, I could forget that they aren't eternal like some. With others, though… Some people were already burdened by age, and more time didn't add them spryness.
My grandparents, first of all. They still had time in them to live, I knew. Maybe ten years, and maybe twenty. But what sort of years they would be? Years of weakness, aching knees, and wrinkly skin. It wasn't something I wanted for them to suffer through, the same I didn't want to go through it myself. And the most astounding thing was… I now had the power.
Which is why it hurt even more when they just outright refused what it could give them.
