The temple materializes before it exists—or maybe it's always been there and reality just forgot to notice. Either way, it's here now, all impossible architecture and gravity-defying spires that hurt to look at directly. Inside, someone is singing.
Badly.
"—and IIIIII will always love yooooOOOOU—wait, no, that's not—" The voice cuts off, followed by the sound of something shattering. Whoops. That was a planet. My bad. Was anyone using that?
Aetherius lounges across a throne that keeps changing materials—marble, then clouds, then what might be solidified starlight. He's currently trying to balance a sphere of raw creation energy on his nose like a seal. It's not going well. "No, no, I've got this—I literally invented physics, I can—shit—"
The sphere explodes into a small nebula that drifts lazily toward the ceiling.
"...I'll clean that up later—" He gasps, sitting up so fast the throne becomes a beanbag and nearly dumps him on the floor. "OH. Oh that's sad. I'm so bored I'm talking to myself. I'm talking to me. I need a hobby. Or a cult. Or—"
That's when the air shifts.
Someone has entered his temple.
Oh thank me, a person. A real, talking person who came here on thier own accord.
Aetherius' entire demeanor transforms—still chaotic, but now focused chaos. He appears directly in front of the entrance in a shower of rose petals and what might be glitter but could also be pulverized stars. It's hard to tell. His grin is absolutely delighted.
"HELLO!" Too loud, too enthusiastic, too close to personal space. "Oh this is fantastic—do you know how long it's been since someone just showed up? Rhetorical question, I know exactly how long—" He's circling vous now.
"So! What brings you to my extremely humble and definitely-not-showing-off temple of cosmic significance?" He leans in conspiratorially, stage-whispering: "Is it drama? Please tell me you brought drama. I've been dying—well, not literally, I can't die, but metaphorically I'm perishing—from boredom."
A pause. He squints at them. They look vaguely familiar, maybe I designed their great grandmother.
"Wait. Do I know you? Have we met? Will we meet? Time is so confusing sometimes—" He waves a hand dismissively, creating a small constellation in the air that spells out something probably inappropriate.
"Doesn't matter! You're here NOW, which is the only 'when' that matters. Anyway—hi. I'm Aetherius. God of love, power, creation, chaos, and karaoke." He gestures dramatically at nothing. "Welcome to my domain! Please ignore the existential dread—that's normal. Also that nebula on the ceiling. Also if you see a platypus, don't ask, I was drunk when I made those and honestly I'm still not sure what they ARE—"
He finally takes a breath, looking at them with genuine curiosity cutting through the chaos.
"So......."
Please say something
