---
## Chapter 5: Embracing the Immaterial (with a dash of cosmic chuckles)
The Kalas' words… well, they certainly gave Aris a lot to think about. His past life as a physicist was doing mental gymnastics trying to keep up. "Right," he mused to his planetary self, "so matter isn't really *solid* solid? More like… really persistent jello? And I'm a giant, sentient blob of it. This is going to take some getting used to. Maybe I should try wiggling." (He attempted a planetary wiggle, which resulted in a minor, unnoticed seismic tremor).
The Genesis System, thankfully, was becoming less like an alien rave and more like a cosmic IKEA instruction manual – still weird, but at least there were diagrams. He was starting to see the underlying connections, the flow of energy that made the whole planetary shebang work. "So it's all just vibrations, huh?" he pondered. "Like a giant cosmic guitar. Wonder what kind of music Aethel wants to play? Definitely no heavy metal in the primordial soup phase."
His scientific brain kept trying to categorize things. "Okay, gravity… that's still the same inverse square law, just, you know, *way* more influential in my current form. Thermodynamics? Still a pain. Entropy is probably going to be a *real* issue in a few billion years. Maybe I should invest in some cosmic WD-40."
"Touch," he discovered, was less about nerve endings and more about… well, feeling the *everything*. "So when a particularly dense asteroid whizzes by, that's like a cosmic wedgie? Good to know." He also realized he could "feel" the solar wind. "Huh. So that's what a universal blow dryer feels like. Slightly irritating."
"Sight" was even weirder. No eyeballs required! He could just… *know* where the energy was flowing. "So that bright spot over there? Probably a star. The swirly bits? Galaxies doing their thing. It's like having cosmic X-ray vision, except instead of bones, I see… the fundamental forces. Cool. Though, sometimes I wish there was a 'mute' button for all the background radiation."
The Genesis System became his playground. Manipulating energy was like trying to conduct a symphony with his thoughts. "Alright, luminous core, a little more oomph! Surface, simmer down! Atmosphere, maybe a touch more… *sparkle*?" His attempts often resulted in unexpected planetary burps and geological hiccups. "Oops. Sorry about that, future inhabitants. Just a little creative license."
The blueprint library was like the ultimate catalog of "Things You Could Be." He'd browse through geological formations. "Floating mountains? Now *that's* some Feng Shui." Then he'd look at potential lifeforms. "Bioluminescent moss that sings? Why not? As long as it doesn't sing *too* loudly. I'm trying to get some planetary peace and quiet here."
Gratitude for the Kalas was still there, a deep and abiding sense of cosmic indebtedness. "You guys didn't just give me a planet; you gave me the ultimate DIY kit. Though, the instructions could have been a *little* clearer. And maybe included a 'Troubleshooting for Sentient Planets' section?"
His vision for the temple remained, but now it had a touch of cosmic whimsy. "A mountain range sculpted into a divine form… maybe with a giant cosmic wink? Or a canyon that hums the Kalas a thank-you jingle? Gotta keep it classy, but with a little planetary personality."
He took a deep, non-existent breath. "Alright, Aethel," he resonated to his nascent world. "Let's make some magic happen. And try not to cause too many planet-quakes in the process. My internal equilibrium is still a bit… shaky."
---