"Caw caw, what are these little things?"
Little Eight stood on Green's shoulder, staring wide-eyed in astonishment at the tiny creatures gathering around him. Each little black ball had a pair of huge, innocent eyes and looked utterly harmless.
Then Little Eight went "Huala, huala," spitting out mouthwash. Clearly, Dark Obsidian Oil did not taste pleasant; it made him nauseous enough to vomit.
The Source of Darkness drifting around Green was the source of these little black balls' power—or rather, an umbrella that shielded them from the harm of light. It gave these little things a natural dependence on Green, and they clung to him with extreme affection.
Green gently extended his palm. A cluster of little black balls stood upon his long, delicate, pale fingers, gazing at him with wide eyes. The other little black balls, bathed in the Source of Darkness, changed from their constantly dissipating, listless state into lively little sprites, hopping up and down in an effort to draw Green's attention.
They had no physical forms, no flesh and blood—only life-forms composed of a mysterious power, along with the simplest of wills.
At this moment, in Green's eyes, any mysterious power was a high-order energy form beyond the material spacetime of reality, rejected by the rules of the Endless World.
"They should be similar to Void Worms of the Void World, or elemental spirit bodies of the material world—like moss, fish, and insects, all basic constituent parts. This is the form of the Flame-Soul Myriad-Headed Bird while it is still an egg: a juvenile form without an eggshell. They are a fundamental component of the rules of the Dark World Cluster."
Green gently set down the black ball in his hand, which wore an expression of enjoyment. After pondering briefly, he said, "They need to undergo