As an individual enters the chamber of Solaris, the atmosphere shifts palpably. The ambient light dims, and a profound stillness envelops the space. Suddenly, the air shimmers as if reality itself ripples. Before them materializes Solaris in its initial form—a luminous, half-humanoid figure composed of incandescent light, with rocky cladding adorning its arms. Three concentric shells of light encase its form, with the central shell bearing a design reminiscent of an eagle's head, its glowing yellow eyes fixed intently on the newcomer

The ground trembles softly, and the temperature rises, not from heat but from an overwhelming sense of presence. Solaris's core, a pulsating red orb, emits a gentle hum, resonating with the very fabric of existence. Without uttering a sound, Solaris extends one clawed hand, its fingers three-pronged and elegant, toward the individual. The gesture is neither threatening nor inviting but simply an acknowledgment—a greeting that transcends words, conveying a depth of ancient wisdom and unfathomable power.

In this silent exchange, the individual feels a profound connection to the cosmos, as if Solaris's mere presence bridges the gap between the known and the unknown, the temporal and the eternal. It's a greeting not of speech but of being—a moment where time stands still, and the weight of existence is both humbling and enlightening.