((Art by Gerald Brom)) ( hyper-detailed manhwa-style portrait), a noblewoman standing in the center of her lavish chamber, her piercing gaze locked onto the flames consuming her world. She wears a deep sapphire-blue velvet gown embroidered with gold filigree, its long sleeves trailing, edges singed and curling. A fur-lined ivory cloak drapes from her shoulders, now streaked with soot, embers flickering against the charred fabric. Her raven-black hair cascades down her back, a golden circlet glinting against the infernal glow. By her side, a weathered red gas can sits upon the scorched wooden floor, its surface blackened with soot, an ominous symbol against the destruction. The chamber’s arched beams crackle overhead, sending fiery splinters raining down. Ornate bookshelves collapse under waves of fire, their ancient tomes curling into glowing embers. A grand four-poster bed, its crimson and gold canopy engulfed, smolders as tendrils of smoke twist into the vaulted ceiling. Shattered mirrors along the far wall distort the reflection of flickering destruction, fragments catching the erratic glow of melting candelabras and disintegrating tapestries. The scent of scorched parchment thickens the air as flames consume the last remnants of history. She remains motionless, the firelight dancing across her expression—calm, unwavering—standing at the precipice of ruin with the red gas can beside her, as if the destruction itself bends to her will.