Someplace, somewhere, at the edge of a universe.
An unfamiliar yet very much familiar figure sits crosslegged, tapping one foot against a wall floating amongst the cosmic nothingness. It waits, and it waits. It’s used to this, waiting. Not to say it isn’t impatient, however. But in the grand scheme of things, a day is an hour is a minute is a second. So the stranger waits, infinite and paradoxical in nature.
The stranger takes a form, a form of childhood, normality. It speaks with the voice familiar to this state, the only difference being the pitch black of his eyes - no longer was the center a tone of gold, instead full of nothingness. It wears the clothes of normality, a time from before tragedy. The most striking thing, a grin. Grand, perhaps mocking.
He brings himself to his feet as Galactus approaches, outstretching his arms. “Gal!”
He speaks as if he knows him, before laughing.
“You’ve finally come. I’ve been waiting forever. Maybe you should work on your punctuality, or don’t. It’s not like time actually matters. You know what does matter though, Gal?”
The voice turns deeper, louder, more alien.
He laughs once more, his smile becoming wider.
“That is to say, welcome. Welcome to my humble abode. I hope you’re not too hungry.”