You sure have, without an iota of willingness nor intentionaly, gotten yourself in quite the bizarre embroilment.

There it stagnantly floats before you: a green, floating, upside-down triangle, whose outrageously colossal proportions are far beyond the ones the strict rules of physics could ever dream of allowing.

How far is its floating frame from you? Several hectometers away? Or is it copious kilometers away instead? Your sense of distance blurs just by looking at it, or at least trying to.

You may have first believed this to be a but an intimidating mirage; that you had been stricken with a manipulative phantasm, one that had abruptly turned against your brittle senses and made you fall under the false guise that such geometrical, airborne titan was more than a mere unstable figment of a suddenly shuddering imagination.

But... no. You would be wrong, dead wrong if you were to conceive such foolish thought. No such thing as a false guise exists, only the certain truehood of that thing's existence. You would be being manipulated by pitiful, even dangerous levels of sheer vacuosity if you were to refuse the truth behind its prescence, for that would render the Idol's relevance into a mere peculiarity. To deny the existence or importance of Eirræbœ would not only be moronic, but deadly. You would not try to undermine the authority of the terrible, ultimate governor, after all, would you?

And so, the burden to acknowledge his real, perverse existence is only yours to endure now, for you have stumbled upon the viridiscent vessel of the almighty, the true Providence. You stumbled upon the Idol of Eirræbœ.

His absolute stagnancy indicates not apathy, but interest. In you, and your reaction towards him, to his vessel, that may be about to happen.