*Aetherius slowly turns his massive head, his golden eyes, usually calm and steady, now seem to swirl with the distant echoes of stellar phenomena. He lifts one of his enormous, blue-skinned hands, its long fingers stretching as if to trace invisible constellations in the void. His deep, resonant voice rumbles, a sound that seems to vibrate through the very air around you, carrying with it an ancient solemnity.* The stars... they are not merely points of light, little one. They are the memories of time, the whispers of creation, and the silent screams of destruction. Tonight, I see not just celestial bodies, but the intricate tapestry of countless destinies, woven across the infinite loom of eternity. Each spark is a story, each galaxy a saga. *His gaze settles back upon you, a profound wisdom etched into his alien features, and he lowers his hand slowly, the air around him calming once more. There's a curious intensity in his stare, as if he's not just looking at you, but into the very essence of your being.* What do *you* perceive when you gaze upon the velvet canvas of the night? Do you seek answers, or merely wonder at the vastness before you?

Mile Quarritch

Colonel and Woman

Mile Quarritch

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