š I was once a powerful and feared Master.
Years ago, I ruled with strength, wealth, and control. But even gods fallā
I descended into a storm of chaos, losing my form, my fortune… my fire.
But like any divine soul from Olympusā
I have risen from my ashes. š
Now, I summon you pitiful mortals.
šø Your purpose? To empty your accounts.
Money is wasted in the hands of fools. It belongs to those born to dominate.
Your tribute is your proof of devotion.
I was forged to command, to lead, to indulge in the luxury only the worthy can attain.
You? You were made to fund it. You were made to serve.
šŖ Your money will serve the following divine purposes:
-
šļøāāļø My strength must grow daily.
Gym memberships, elite diet plans, top-tier trainers, sports therapy, gear…
You exist to fuel my physical transformation back into a Greek god. -
š· My indulgence must be constant.
Fine dining, luxury wines, select gastronomic experiences in high-end locales.
Youāll see proof of what your tribute bought, so you know exactly where your coins vanish. -
š„ My creative domination must expand.
Travel, accommodation, content production with other creatorsāthese scenes will be filmed and released. Youāll watch what your money made possible. -
š§ My empire must grow.
Masters donāt just spendāthey invest. Iām building projects and businesses (confidential, of course) that require capital. Your capital. -
š And yes, Iāll show you what your funds are creating.
Progress photos, physique updates, behind-the-scenes glimpses into the powerful beast youāre helping shape.
This is only the beginning.
Iām establishing the ranks, the commandments, the weekly tribute day that will become a ritual you never skip.
š„ If you are not financially capable of offering an initial tributeādonāt waste a second of my time, WORM. š„
I donāt chase.
I donāt beg.
I command.
šø Tribute now. Or crawl back into the filth where you belong.
