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Once upon a time, Madara was respected and feared. Entire villages offered him koku upon koku of rice, and the liquor to go with. Those were the days, back when humans knew their place.
Back then, in between wining and dining off the results of his servants’ efforts, Madara had his fun. He showed the small fry who got too uppity just why it was to Madara that the humans gave their offerings.
However, those offerings didn’t last forever. It wasn’t a sudden change, but a gradual one. As scores of seasons passed, Madara marked the change by how their homes changed. They continued to use wood and paper and tile, yes, but they continuously added more. Metal forged into intricate shapes, glass as clear as water, man made rocks that could be poured into place, and lights that could be summoned at a whim. Madara’s servants were indeed impressive. But with each new invention, there were fewer that remembered him, less who put out a bottle of the good stuff for him.
But Madara had not changed. No, he would always indulge in the fruits of human labor. Such were his thoughts as he lay strewn on a pillow, warm and cozy even in the dead of winter, with a belly full of food cooked just for him. Indeed, no matter the era, it was only the most lavish and hedonistic of lifestyles for the great and mighty Madara-sama!