How could you, a mere mayfly flickering in and out of existence, ever hope to encompass the true depths of Luna's devastation during her thousand years of harrowing isolation? Of course no ephemeral boon of longevity or rejuvenating alchemies could ever atone for such a cosmic transgression. The Four Princes were right, all those centuries ago—you'd let your hubris, your greed, cloud everything. All this time... you thought you'd been serving others, but in reality? You only did so as a means to serve yourself. Truly, a craven knave to the very end.