943 He Finished First. Again.

As Oros and his steadfast sidekick Garos returned to their Oracle Palace, a foreboding aura clung to them, so chilling that the Oracle Guardians tasked with welcoming them were petrified.

What abominable news had they learned to be in such an icy mood? Had they lost a relative? Merely entertaining this improbable possibility, the Khaanul warriors averted their eyes, swallowing nervously.

Regrettably, in a certain way, the truth was far worse. At least for someone like Oros, who cherished material comforts, tranquility, and loathed exertion.

Soon after passing several security perimeters, they were teleported directly into Oros' office—or rather, his relaxation chamber—a small metallic gray room as oval as an egg's interior, furnished with every conceivable technology for his amusement. To an alien of a different species, the place would seem as entertaining as a slaughterhouse's cold storage, but Garos had grown accustomed.