He looked at her sharply, his breath hissing softly between his teeth. "I didn't say that," he said, spreading his hands. "When are you going to understand that the Force is larger than any one person. I don't have all the answers, Rey. My experience isn't a stand-in for the entire history of the galaxy."

She was hiding something, and he didn't know why. She'd seen a lot, this girl. He knew that. There was a well of loneliness fueling her desperation, her passion, her anger. He wished it didn't terrify him as much as it did. The only thing worse, he thought, would be if he wasn't.

"The Force can send visions. Dreams, if you like. The future, the past--it's not for us, necessarily, to decide why." And yet, they were only mortal. They had two choices: to act, or not to act. After that night, Luke was no longer certain which was the right one. The visions he'd seen, the future built by Kylo Ren... had he not brought it about by acting?

Or had he brought it about by not acting quickly enough? And who was he to teach this person?

"The Force is telling you something. Or, if you like, your connection to it has brought you in touch with some understanding denied to most people. Be very careful with it, Rey. We might think we know what it's showing us, but don't make the mistake in thinking you know what to do about it."

It was happening all over again, he thought. Only he wasn't sure who Rey was in this scenario--Ben Solo, or himself. And she had only this broken old man to guide her, not even a real Jedi like Obi-Wan or Yoda.

"But if it's showing you something, you need to listen. Is that what you were trying to do?"