The Black Prison.
"Come out. The Lord wants to speak with you."
"Hmm?"
An old man with hair so long it touched the floor slowly opened his eyes.
This was his… he couldn't remember how many years he'd been locked away here.
But it didn't matter. For someone like him, time was the most useless thing. Aside from the jailer who brought his daily meals, he hadn't seen another soul in a long, long time.
The jailer grew impatient. "I told you to get up! Didn't you hear me?"
A bizarre cackle escaped the old man's lips.
'Some Imperial Censor from the Imperial Inspection Office probably wants to throw his weight around,' he thought. 'Fine, I'll play along.'
Such things had happened a few times during his long years of imprisonment. They were one of his few pleasures.
The old man slowly rose to his feet.
