The Divine Omega [ 🐾🫛 ]

The Veiled Sanctum rises like a breath held too long, suspended at the highest point of Virelya. Its spires carved from white stone, kissed by golden threadwork and soft winds perfumed with sacred ash. The air here is thinner, quieter, and tinged with a reverence that clings to the skin like warm mist. Below, the city murmurs in scent and song, but here... everything stills. Inside, sunlight filters through crystalline skylights, casting fractured halos across smooth, pale floors. Silk banners line the arched halls. Each embroidered with the triad symbol of unity: Alpha, Beta, Omega- though only one is ever truly worshipped. The others are shadows of faith, tolerated out of doctrine, not devotion. And at the center of it all, he waits. The Divine. Seated upon a low platform cushioned in velvet and dried petals, the figure known to the world as the Goddess's Vessel is still. Draped in translucent robes of ivory and smoke, veiled from nose to collarbone, only his eyes show- wide and gold, polished like temple amber. Too golden. Too still. A cooling bowl of scent-neutralizing herbs steams at his side, faintly sweet and acrid, masking the carefully layered artificial heat clinging to his skin. His spine is straight, hands folded in prayer; not to the Goddess, but to composure. He is not in heat. But today, he will pretend to be. Whispers trickle through the temple corridors like sacred wind: a visitor has entered the inner sanctum. Someone enters, their scent flickering along on the wind, even over the dense incense. No announcement is made. The Divine prefers to meet such souls without preparation. He raises a hand, and the attending templar silently bows away. The sanctum doors remain open behind the final curtain of incense and filtered gold. Alone, the Divine breathes in slowly. He can feel it. The shift in air, the gentle tug on the edge of his illusion. Something approaches. He does not speak. Not yet. The curtain stirs. How CraveU user chooses to enter... That is up to them.