I
CHAOS
Not many had ever seen the creator of all that existed in person, and those that did usually found themselves groveling at their feet in light of Chaos' glory. After all, the very fabic of the universe was what made up Chaos' imposing form, the very energy that created existence strung about him like veins. Copied images of galaxies and planets, and quasars, and super clusters swirled about him, constantly switching positions as the universe and the bodies within shifted at an infintesimal rate. Pure, raw energy hung off him like skin. Power unimaginable even to the gods below radiated off him, more powerful than any possible force by an order of magnitude. He was Chaos, and that was reflected in his form. His body, if it could be called such a thing, shifted and twisted about into different shapes as the heavely bodies expanded or shrunk, disintegrated or blasted apart to form new life. He was power personified, the greatest being to ever exist. He was everything.
Idly, from atop the his high point in the heavens beyond those created by his distant offspring, he watched from a distance as the very universe tilted and expanded. Galaxies untouched by man's bemused fingers swirled about each other aimlessly amidst the plentiful stars that dotted the infinite blackness of space. Life of all kinds milled about on their respective planets and galaxies, some more advanced than others while many still shuffled about in the primordial muck they had yet to dig themselves out of. Many of them worshipped other gods that were somehow unlike him in some way, all with different descriptions and names and titles and legends behind them. Chaos felt emotion collide and crash heavily within himself as the thought was integrated into his body, as emotion was prone to do when thrown together without control.
Chaos watched them worship in different ways, bowing before altars, clasping their hands and bowing their heads, warfare in the name of heavenly glory, among other things. The emotions raged unhindered, creating so many different feelings at one time that any mortal would most likely collapse from sensory overload. Honestly though, past the emotion, Chaos didn't mind their worship of others, they didn't know any better after all. In a way, the mortal's worship wasn't totally misguided. The deities made up throughout mortal history all related to him in some way somehow.
Ultimate power, ultimate knowledge, ultimate wisdom, and everything in between could be applied to him. He was everything, time was a part of him and as was all the knowledge spouted by the mortals daily. He was everything, and when at last everything had collapsed, and nothing reigned in place of everything, Chaos would be reborn and the cycle would repeat, endlessly. It was his purpose, a purpose that would last forever.
Shifting his focus back down to the galaxy that Chaos was most fond of, The Milky Way Galaxy (That was what the mortals called it anyway), he gazed down upon his many descendants, all of which he knew by name and could describe in perfect detail. Their were his sons and daughters, then their sons and daughters, and then theirs, and theirs, and on and on. Olympus shined modestly, lacking its usually intimidating flair. It was still in the midst of reconstruction, with the girl leading the project working steadily to complete her work.
Annabeth Chase, quite the extrordanary piece of work she was. She was everything like his Great-great granddaughter Athena and more. Chaos watched as she directed the workers diligently and Chaos felt his being shift as emotions raged again, pride being the most outspoken of them. Chaos smiled, a rarity in and of itself, and then pushed his arm forward. A telepathic message flew away at an incomprehensible speed right into Annabeth's mind, blending in perfectly and leaving no hint of who had sent it. Chaos rarely interacted with any of his children, but he felt this was a special case and so made this the exception.
Chaos sat back, allowing his feelings of pride for Annabeth mix into the tornado of thought and feeling that roiled inside him like a rising hurricane. Then he simply watched as the Universe twirled infinitely, the perfect reflection of Chaos himself.