Inside a room in the palace, less than thirty square meters in size, there were no openings other than the wooden door.
The Black Pharaoh's robe had been neatly folded atop a small wooden table against the wall. The Black Pharaoh himself, his bare upper body bearing two holes, sat on a remarkably sturdy wooden chair. He held a black glass jar in his hands, its sealed contents unknown.
When the Black Pharaoh opened the jar, a heavy, turbid aura of chaos first leaked out. Then, a small creature resembling a stick insect crawled out. It was entirely brown, like a short piece of dead wood. Guided by the movements of the Black Pharaoh's right fingers, the creature crawled across his bare torso toward the two holes in his body.
The pointed ends of its limbs and torso suddenly pierced the skin around the Black Pharaoh's wounds and burrowed inside.
Soon, streams of crimson energy flowed upward along the creature's legs. As the energy entered, the life force within the creature rapidly dwindled until its body snapped in half like dry wood, utterly devoid of life.
Yet the two wounds the priest had left on the Black Pharaoh's chest began to heal. When they had recovered by one-third, however, the process stopped once again.
Only after three identical glass jars had been placed on the table before him did the Black Pharaoh's injuries finally heal completely. At that moment, though, his face was filled with resentment.
"It actually took three Chaos Prototypes to transfer my injuries. One of those takes two hundred years to create. Eliminating a Hell Envoy of that caliber has at least removed some uncertainty. Also, the Green Ghost's actions today were somewhat unusual. He returned to his room himself, but the attendant assigned to him has