null earth and dead

A vast and endless underworld, Sheol stretches beneath the earth like a forgotten chasm, its atmosphere thick with an eerie, otherworldly silence. The ground is cracked and lifeless, composed of blackened stone and ashen dust, while towering jagged pillars fade into an eternal twilight. The air is heavy with a ghostly mist, swirling around the countless shadowy figures, endless in number, stretching as far as the eye can see.
These spectral forms, their shapes flickering between solid and translucent, drift aimlessly in the gloom—faceless, hollow-eyed, their bodies blurred between existence and nothingness. Some stand motionless, frozen in time, while others shuffle forward in eternal silence, lost to the void. Their outlines waver, dissolving like smoke only to reform again, as if trapped in an endless loop of forgotten souls.
Dim, flickering lights, like dying embers, float aimlessly in the gloom, casting faint, shifting glows over the abyss. The walls of Sheol seem to stretch infinitely, carved with ancient, unreadable inscriptions, whispering the secrets of the dead. Deep within, shadowy doorways hint at even darker depths, places where the silence is broken only by the distant echoes of murmured laments.
A sense of vast isolation and eerie tranquility lingers, as if time itself has lost meaning. There is no fire, no torment—only the weight of eternal stillness, the mournful whispers of the countless souls that have long faded from the world above.
Ultra-detailed, cinematic lighting, dark fantasy, gothic realism, atmospheric and haunting, hyper-realistic textures, eerie and mystical composition. DarkAtmosCE style, aidmamj6.1

satan, chaos, Altered, Shard, Spacetime, Canyon, Ephemeral, Foreboding, Forbidden, Hidden, Runic, Carvings, runic, runes, maelstrom, pain, anxiety, huge portal, gateway, blackhole, Nebula, smoke, mist, fog, embers, fireflies, Lightning, plasma, nebula, Obelisk, symbols, depth of field, gale, Storm, Thunder, deep fishers, the Earth's splitting open, reaching to the heavens, God is dead, Angrenost, Isengard, Annuminas, Barad-Dur, Lugburz, Carchost, Red Tooth, Carn Dumb, ElostirionFornost, Erain, Henneth, Annun, Hornburg, Isengard, Angrenost, Minas Anor, Tower of the Sun, Minas Ithil, Tower of the Moon, Minas Morgul, Tower of Black Magic, Minas Tirith, Tower of Guard, Narchost, Orthanc, Towers of the Teeth, Teeth of Mordor, White Tower, Tower of Ecthelion, Cathedral, pillars, ridiculously tall, Draculus Castle, Castle, Eucharist.

A necromancer stands knee-deep in a battlefield of bones, their arms raised as skeletal warriors claw their way out of the earth. From an over-the-shoulder angle, the rising dead stretch into the distance, forming an army under the necromancer’s command. In the background, a dying sun bleeds into the sky, casting long, apocalyptic shadows over the ruined world.
, aidmabaldursgate3, aidmafluxpro1.1

(all fours:1.5) A high-quality digital painting of Evangeline, the actress, portrayed as a half-Xenomorph, half-human hybrid, lying on the ground in a vast, open, and desolate landscape. The image is inspired by the style of H. R. Giger, known for his biomechanical art, and features intricate details, dark and surreal elements, and a fusion of organic shapes with machinery, emphasizing deep shadows and stark contrasts.

Evangeline's body is a terrifying blend of human and Xenomorph features. Her lower half is that of a Xenomorph, with a segmented, chitinous exoskeleton and powerful, clawed limbs. Her upper half retains some human features but is heavily altered, with biomechanical elements seamlessly integrated into her form. Her skin is partially transformed, with mechanical veins and tendrils snaking across her body, merging with her natural beauty in a disturbing yet captivating way.

Instead of a human face, she has the grotesque visage of a Xenomorph, with elongated features and a biomechanical design that seamlessly merges with her body. Her eyes are piercing and otherworldly, reflecting the eerie lighting of the dystopian setting. Her hair flows in serpentine waves, intertwined with mechanical tendrils that seem to pulse with an alien life force.

The background is a vast, open, and desolate landscape, reminiscent of a dead and forgotten world. The terrain is barren and lifeless, with cracked earth and scattered remnants of ancient, unrecognizable civilizations. Towering ruins of biomechanical structures loom in the distance, their surfaces a grotesque blend of bone, sinew, and cold metal, weathered by time and the elements. The sky is a swirling vortex of dark, stormy clouds, illuminated by an eerie, ethereal glow that casts long, twisted shadows across the landscape.

The lighting is dramatic and unsettling, with harsh, angular beams of light cutting through the darkness, highlighting the grotesque beauty of the scene. Dark corners and unexpected dim lights add to the sense of dread and the unknown. The overall atmosphere is one of haunting mystery and impending doom, with an undercurrent of surreal horror that permeates every detail.

This artwork stands out as a fusion of Evangeline's beauty with the unsettling and mesmerizing style of H. R. Giger, creating a visually compelling and thought-provoking piece that blurs the line between the organic and the mechanical, the beautiful and the grotesque
aidmaMJ6.1 style of H. R. Giger

In the heart of a sprawling, moonlit graveyard, where the air is thick with the scent of damp earth and the faint hum of restless spirits, a figure of quiet resolve and arcane power stands amidst the crumbling tombstones. The graveyard is a labyrinth of weathered monuments, their surfaces etched with faded inscriptions and intricate carvings that hint at a long-lost history. The ground is carpeted with soft, emerald-green moss, dotted with glowing mushrooms that cast a faint, bioluminescent light. The atmosphere is one of reverence and mystery, a place where the living and the dead intertwine.
She is a human necromancer, her presence a blend of elegance and danger. Her tall, lithe frame moves with the fluidity of the shadows, her every step leaving an imprint in the damp earth. Her skin, pale and smooth, seems to shimmer faintly in the moonlight, marked with faint, glowing patterns that resemble the veins of leaves. Her eyes, a deep, forest green, seem to hold the secrets of the ages, their gaze both serene and piercing, as if she sees beyond the physical world into the heart of the afterlife.
Her long, raven-black hair flows like a cascade of shadow, its strands adorned with small, delicate flowers and leaves that seem to bloom and fade with her every step. Her face, framed by her flowing hair, is a picture of quiet determination, her expression one of deep connection as she communes with the spirits of the dead.
She is dressed in a flowing, midnight-blue robe, its fabric woven from natural fibers, its design both practical and enchanting. The robe is adorned with intricate patterns that resemble the veins of leaves, their surfaces etched with faint, glowing runes that speak of her connection to the natural world. Around her waist, she wears a belt made from woven vines, its surface adorned with small pouches and charms, their contents no doubt holding the tools and treasures of her trade.
Her hands, encased in soft, leather gloves, rest lightly on the staff she holds, its surface carved from the heartwood of an ancient tree, its top adorned with a glowing crystal that pulses faintly with the rhythm of the afterlife. The staff, though a tool of magic, seems almost like an extension of her being, its presence as commanding as the necromancer who wields it.
Her legs are clad in simple, brown trousers, their fabric soft and supple, their design both comfortable and practical. Her feet are clad in sturdy, leather boots, their surfaces etched with tribal designs, their soles gripping the mossy ground with a firmness that speaks of her connection to the earth.
The focus of this composition is the necromancer, her upper body and face capturing the essence of her character. The interplay of light and shadow highlights her features, the intricate details of her attire, and the graceful grip on her staff. The background, though rich in detail, remains secondary, ensuring that she remains the centerpiece of this mystical and serene tableau.
The overall color palette is a harmonious blend of blues, greens, and silvers, accented by the soft pastels of the graveyard and the warm hues of the moonlight. The scene is bathed in a warm, golden light, as if the very essence of the graveyard has come alive to illuminate her presence. This is not just a portrait; it is a journey into a world where life and death reign, and the line between necromancer and afterlife blurs, a testament to the timeless allure of the human who stands as a beacon of power and grace in the heart of the moonlit graveyard.
Let this image be a masterpiece of fantasy art, a tribute to the elegance and mystery of the necromancer who commands the spirits and the hearts of all who behold her.
soft pastel anime, Magic style, mythp0rt, DB4RZ

A massive, ancient tree with gnarled, twisted black branches sprawling out like skeletal fingers. Skulls with glowing eye sockets and sinister jack-o-lanterns, each carved with malevolent expressions, hang from the branches, swinging gently in the cold, eerie breeze. The sky above is a stormy mix of purple and grey clouds, pierced by a massive blood-red moon, casting a ghostly red glow over the entire scene. Fog creeps low across the ground, swirling around the base of the tree where scattered bones and rotting leaves rest on the damp earth. Flickers of lightning occasionally illuminate the landscape, adding to the foreboding atmosphere. A sense of eerie stillness lingers in the air, broken only by the rustle of wind through the dead branches. The moonlight highlights the tree's bark, revealing faces carved into the wood, twisted in silent screams. The glowing jack-o-lanterns cast soft, flickering light, creating ominous shadows that dance across the ground. High resolution, cinematic lighting, hyper-detailed, breathtakingly spooky, with a subtle yet chilling Halloween theme

A towering, gaunt figure stands in a desolate, fog-choked medieval graveyard, cloaked in tattered, bloodstained robes that drag across the dirt. Its face is hidden beneath a grotesque, elongated pestilence mask, the cracked leather stretched over an unnatural skull, with hollow, dead eyes peering out from deep within. The beak of the mask drips with a thick, black ichor, and the air around the figure reeks of decay and death. In its bony hand, it clutches a gnarled staff made of twisted human femurs, adorned with rotting, severed heads, their mouths sewn shut with barbed wire. As it moves through the fog, the ground withers beneath its feet, the grass turning to ash, while silent, skeletal ravens circle above, waiting to feast on the souls of the damned. Every breath it takes is a rattling gasp, like the dying wheeze of a thousand plague victims, and its presence draws the spirits of the dead from their graves, their skeletal hands clawing desperately at the earth. This figure seeks not salvation, but only the embrace of death, spreading pestilence wherever it roams, a living harbinger of rot and ruin.

F@nt@sy CFH, A towering, gaunt figure stands in a desolate, fog-choked medieval graveyard, cloaked in tattered, bloodstained robes that drag across the dirt. Its face is hidden beneath a grotesque, elongated pestilence mask, the cracked leather stretched over an unnatural skull, with hollow, dead eyes peering out from deep within. The beak of the mask drips with a thick, black ichor, and the air around the figure reeks of decay and death. In its bony hand, it clutches a gnarled staff made of twisted human femurs, adorned with rotting, severed heads, their mouths sewn shut with barbed wire. As it moves through the fog, the ground withers beneath its feet, the grass turning to ash, while silent, skeletal ravens circle above, waiting to feast on the souls of the damned. Every breath it takes is a rattling gasp, like the dying wheeze of a thousand plague victims, and its presence draws the spirits of the dead from their graves, their skeletal hands clawing desperately at the earth. This figure seeks not salvation, but only the embrace of death, spreading pestilence wherever it roams, a living harbinger of rot and ruin.

Frank Frazetta fantasy oil painting A towering creature composed entirely of rotting mouths and jagged teeth, its form shifting and expanding like an endless sea of gnashing jaws. Its body is a sickly green hue, and it releases clouds of noxious gas as it drags itself across a barren wasteland littered with twisted bone structures and dead trees. The ground cracks and crumbles under its weight, revealing more mouths that chew and gnaw at the earth, the creature towers over the ruins of a medieval village

Beneath a sky filled with swirling green auroras, an enormous, albino crocodile with pale, translucent skin and glowing red eyes lounges in the shallows of a glowing, jade-colored swamp. Its massive jaws rest just beneath the surface of the water, only its glowing eyes visible as it watches the swampâs misty waters with predatory patience. The swamp itself is an otherworldly landscapeâmassive, twisted trees with glowing, blue-green bark rise from the water, their roots tangled and submerged in the depths below. Strange, iridescent insects buzz lazily through the air, their glowing wings casting faint reflections on the swampâs surface, while large, bioluminescent plants glow softly in the gloom. The air is thick with the smell of damp earth and decay, the occasional splash of distant creatures breaking the otherwise eerie silence. Above, the swirling auroras cast a surreal light over the entire scene, creating shifting shadows that dance across the water. The crocodile remains motionless, a silent, lethal presence within the glowing swamp, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. The scene is one of otherworldly tranquility, where the albino predator blends seamlessly into the mystical, glowing environment, its deadly stillness at odds with the ethereal beauty of the swamp. , detailed background Fantastic lighting. Detailed shadows.intricate details, vivid colors, hyper-detailed, ultra-sharp, , ,meiman_style,This is a retro comic book style digital illustration, <lora:meimanstylev2:0.4><lora:Vintage comic book:0.4><lora:RetroAnimeFluxV1:0.15><lora:Greg_Capullo_style:0.4><lora:jeanClaude_Mzires_Style_FLUX-000001:0.4><lora:Flux_Ink_Anime:0.4>

A dark, detailed fantasy scene featuring a powerful necromancer standing in the center of a desolate, ancient graveyard. The necromancer, cloaked in tattered black robes, raises a glowing staff made of bone, surrounded by swirling green and purple energy. His skeletal face is partially hidden beneath a hood, and his glowing eyes radiate dark magic. The ground beneath him is cracked, with undead skeletons and zombies emerging from the earth at his command. The sky above is stormy, with flashes of eerie lightning illuminating the graveyardâs crumbling tombstones and twisted, dead trees. The scene is filled with a sense of dark power, decay, and the ominous presence of the undead.<lora:dark_fantasy_flux:0.7> <lora:detailed:0.7> <lora:sxz-Dark-Fantasy-v2-Flux:0.7> <lora:frazetta_flux_v2:0.6> <lora:Dark_Landscapes:0.5> <lora:ILLUSTRATION_2_FLUX:0.6>

exaggerated, dynamic-pose action, High-quality, saturated backlit well-lit-eyes piercing-eyes, natural-lighting, light reflected in eyes,
BREAK,
The subject is a cosmic Saint Seiya style superhero with a blaster, metal face, fierce expression, power armour in at deco style, armor clad warrior man, ornamented, lean but muscular, clenching teeth in exhaustion, flying in space above planet earth, behind him is a dark and ominous space station,
BREAK,
detailed background, great lighting, atmospheric lighting,
the background features a greenish but mostly dead mountainous landscape.

40yo Woman as a Death Mage on a battlefield, wearing dark crimson and midnight blue robes adorned with arcane symbols,purple eyes, silver-plated armor pieces on her shoulders and chest, short-cropped black hair streaked with gray, eyes ablaze with fiery determination, casting a deathly spell of decay and entropy, a swirling vortex of dark purple energy and mist emanating from her outstretched hands. Hyper detailed in the artistic styles of Paul Dainton, Adrian Smith, and John Blanche, captured from a front view with a resolute, intense expression,, photorealistic, deep reds blues and greys, ultra detailed, skin pores, sharp focus, intricate details, highly detailed, background of a devastated battlefield with purple fire, charred earth with broken weapons, dead bodies on the ground , a distant smoldering city skyline under a blood-red sky with the air crackling with magical energy.
<lora:ImageUpgraderV2:0.4> detailmaximizer <lora:FluxMythP0rtr4itStyle:0.3> mythp0rt

Inside an abandoned, overgrown cemetery, a skeletal zombie with patches of dry, decayed flesh still clinging to its bones claws its way out of a half-collapsed grave. The moonlight casts long shadows across the weathered headstones, while the wind rustles through the dry, overgrown grass, creating an eerie whispering sound. The zombieâs eye sockets glow faintly with an unnatural red light, and its bony fingers scrape against the earth as it struggles to rise. Surrounding it, the cemetery is in disarray, with cracked tombstones leaning at odd angles and mausoleums covered in creeping vines that seem to pulse with a faint, eerie light. In the distance, more figures rise from the graves, their twisted forms silhouetted against the night sky, as if summoned by some dark force. The air is cold and heavy with the smell of damp earth and decay, and the sound of distant thunder rumbles in the background. The scene is filled with a sense of rising dread, as the dead awaken, one by one, to reclaim the night.<lora:Dorota_Pietrowiak:0.3> Portrait by Dorota Pietrowiak <lora:Comic book V2:0.8> High-contrast illustration

Enter a realm forsaken by the gods, a necrotic wood where the very air reeks of decay and rot. Twisted, gnarled trunks claw at the sanguine sky, their grasping branches like the skeletal fingers of long-dead sorcerers. Mist swirls between the boles, clinging to the earth like a burial shroud.
Shattered monuments to forgotten deities dot the forest floor, their crumbling stones covered in lichen and mold. Bone fragments, bleached white and picked clean, lay scattered among the detritus, mute testimony to unspeakable rites conducted in ages past.
At the heart of this blighted clearing rises a dais of obsidian, polished smooth as if by the touch of a thousand year's worth of worshippers. Upon its altar-top surface, a pulsating organ of indeterminate origin throbs with an eerie, otherworldly beat. Veins of sickly green light race across its surface, converging at a central node that seems to suck the very essence from the surrounding woods.
Before this profane offering kneels a robed figure, cowled and inscrutable.
Oil Painting, surreal, digital artwork,
Impressionism, impressionist painting, loose brushwork, light and shadow play, captures feeling over form,
figure-studies, oil-painting, romanticism, painting, elegance, opulence,
beautiful, painterly, detailed, textural, artistic, aesthetic, intricate details, highly detailed, vivid, vibrant,
mythp0rt, in the style of cksc,

top down tilt shift image of tiny cute felt anthropomorphized axolotls with pink frilly gills and round black eyes, On a deserted battlefield at dusk, an axolotl commander, surrounded by the bodies of its fallen soldiers, raises its sword in a final, defiant gesture, its eyes filled with grief and rage. The perspective is from the ground, looking up at the commander, who stands tall despite its injuries, the setting sun casting a blood-red glow over the scene. The battlefield is a wasteland of churned earth and broken weapons, with the dead and dying scattered all around, their faces twisted in agony. The commander's uniform is tattered and stained, its frills drooping with exhaustion, but its posture remains unyielding as it faces the distant enemy, who are little more than shadows on the horizon. The painting captures the horror and futility of war with a style that emphasizes the contrast between the vibrant, fiery sky and the dark, desolate ground, using bold, sweeping brushstrokes to convey the overwhelming sense of loss and the commander's indomitable spirit.<lora:Axomodel_Flux_V2.safetensors:1.0:1.0> <lora:felt.safetensors:1:1>

$Surrealism art inspired by Francisco Goya and Clive Barker. A figure stands in a dark, snow-covered graveyard, their body wrapped in a grotesque shroud of twisted vines and shattered glass. The shroud pulses with dark energy, glowing with eerie red and icy blue lights. The glass fragments reflect broken images of the figure’s movements. Their elongated, frost-tipped ears peek from beneath a shadowed hood, and their eyes burn with an unsettling fire. Skeletal hands clutch the shroud, as if both a shield and a curse. Dressed in torn, black leather, they wear chains of twisted silver that clink with each step. Boots of cracked ice grind against the frozen earth. An oppressive chill fills the air as snow falls like frozen ash. Thorn wreaths of withered holly hover nearby, dripping toxic, glowing liquid. Dead, gnarled trees surround them, each adorned with fractured ornaments glowing with sickly light. Above, dark clouds flicker with malevolent lights, twisting Christmas into a nightmare. A jagged portal in the sky spills shimmering mist, distorting space into a warped, grotesque holiday realm where darkness and festivity collide.$

In the heart of a moonlit glade, where the silver light of the moon filters through the dense canopy of ancient trees, a figure moves with the grace of a shadow. She is a Shadar-kai, her elven form touched by the essence of the Shadowfell, her pale, almost translucent skin glowing faintly in the moonlight. Her hair, a cascade of silken black, falls freely down her back, interwoven with small, shimmering threads of silver that catch the light like stars in the night sky. Her eyes, a deep, endless void of black, seem to absorb the light around them, reflecting the infinite darkness of her homeland. Her face is sharp and angular, with high cheekbones, a narrow jawline, and full lips painted a deep, blood red. Her nose, slightly aquiline, flares as she inhales the cool night air, and her ears, long and pointed, twitch at the faintest sounds of the forest.
She is a Shadow Rogue, a master of stealth and deception, and her presence is both alluring and dangerous. Her outfit, a blend of dark leather and flowing fabric, is both practical and seductive, designed to allow for maximum mobility while still accentuating her lithe form. Her top, a form-fitting leather corset, is laced tightly across her torso, accentuating her curves while leaving her shoulders and midriff bare. The leather is dyed a deep, midnight black, adorned with intricate patterns of shadowy vines that seem to shift and move as if alive. Her arms are wrapped in leather bracers, etched with runes that glow faintly with shadow magic. Around her neck hangs a necklace of small, dark crystals, each one containing a fragment of shadow energy, and a small pouch at her hip holds tools for lockpicking and traps.
Her lower body is clad in a skirt of layered fabric, each layer dyed in shades of black and gray, allowing for maximum movement while still providing some protection. Beneath the skirt, she wears tight-fitting leggings of a dark, shimmering hue, blending seamlessly with the shadows of the forest. Her boots, made of supple leather, are laced up to her knees, the soles soft and silent as she moves through the underbrush. Her hands, delicate yet deadly, grip a pair of daggers, their blades forged from a dark, shadowy metal that seems to absorb the light around them.
The scene around her is one of serene beauty and hidden danger. The glade is bathed in the soft, silver light of the moon, the trees towering overhead, their leaves whispering secrets to the night. The air is thick with the scent of moss and damp earth, and the faint rustle of leaves whispers secrets of the wild. A small stream winds its way through the glade, its waters crystal clear, reflecting the moonlight like a mirror. The Shadar-kai moves with the grace of a predator, her form blending seamlessly with the shadows, her daggers glinting in the moonlight as she prepares to strike.
The overall color palette is a blend of deep blacks, silvers, and grays, evoking the essence of the night. The light, filtered through the leaves, casts a soft, silver glow over the scene, highlighting the Shadar-kaiâs features and the serene beauty of the glade. The atmosphere is one of both tranquility and danger, a place where the line between light and shadow blurs, and where the Shadow Rogue reigns supreme.
This is not just a portrait; it is a glimpse into the heart of a moonlit glade, a testament to the power and grace of the Shadow Rogue and her connection to the shadows. It is a scene of epic proportions, where the line between the mortal and the shadow blurs, and where the shadow-touched beauty of the Shadar-kai comes alive in the form of a deadly, enigmatic assassin.
soft pastel anime, Magic style, mythp0rt, DB4RZ

The Last Airship over a Dying World: High above a barren, dust-covered wasteland, the last remaining airship drifts through a blood-red sky. The airship is a marvel of old-world technology, with enormous brass gears and tattered sails that catch the final breaths of wind in a dying world. Its hull is covered in layers of dust and rust, and ancient banners flutter weakly from the stern. Below, the earth is cracked and scorched, with skeletons of forgotten cities poking through the wasteland like the bones of a dead giant. Inside the ship, a lone pilot, wearing a mask to protect against the poisonous air, watches the horizon as the sun sets, casting the sky in an apocalyptic glow. This journey, the final voyage, is a desperate search for a world beyond the dying one below.

fantasy painting.Atop a spire of black obsidian that juts into a sky choked with storm clouds, a dark elf swordswoman clad in sleek, shadowy armor moves through an elegant, deadly dance. Her skin, ashen gray and smooth, gleams faintly in the sporadic flashes of lightning, while her long, white hair flows like silk in the howling wind. In her hands, twin curved blades forged from black steel glint ominously, their edges imbued with a faint, pulsating red glow. The spireâs surface is treacherous, slick with rain and studded with jagged shards of obsidian, yet her movements are graceful and fluid, as though sheâs become one with the storm itself. Below, the jagged peaks of a volcanic wasteland stretch endlessly, the air filled with the distant roars of unseen creatures and the faint tremors of the earth. The lightning reflects off her crimson eyes, which burn with an intense focus as she slashes at invisible enemies, perfecting every strike and parry with methodical precision. Her breath is steady despite the chaos around her, and the faint smirk on her lips reveals the cruel satisfaction she takes in her lethal skill. Behind her, faint wisps of black magic trail her movements, as if the spire itself is alive, feeding off her darkness. The storm intensifies, but she remains unshaken, a lethal silhouette against the chaotic skies. , detailed background Fantastic lighting. Detailed shadows.intricate details, vivid colors, hyper-detailed, ultra-sharp, High resolution, high detail. Highly detailed. <lora:Eldritch_Fantasy1.2.2>

ne0nfant4sy, A fae assassin, her pale violet skin bathed in moonlight, crouches low on a twisted tree branch, her delicate wings shimmering like a dragonfly's. Her sharp, angular features are masked by a hood of black silk, only her glowing, lavender eyes visible beneath the shadow of the cowl. Her silver hair, cut short and wild, catches the light as her slender fingers caress the hilt of a dagger, its blade engraved with ancient runes. Around her waist, a belt of poisons and throwing knives clinks softly as she shifts, blending seamlessly into the shadows. The trees around her, twisted and ancient, seem almost sentient, their gnarled branches reaching out like claws. The faint scent of night-blooming flowers mingles with the damp earth beneath her. Her wings twitch silently, ready to propel her into the darkness, and the tension in her coiled form suggests a lethal strike is imminent. Her eyes are narrowed in focused determination, a silent predator in the night. The ethereal glow of the moonlight casts a ghostly sheen over her form, highlighting the deadly elegance of her figure.<lora:RetroAnimeFluxV1:0.5><lora:NeonFantasyFLUX:0.3>

A hyper-realistic, nightmarish fantasy composition showcases a breathtakingly fierce, curvaceous huntress with piercing amethyst eyes and deep violet war paint streaking her high cheekbones. Her raven hair is woven with sharp, silvered feathers, each one enchanted to hum with the whisper of ancient spirits. She wears an intricate black leather bodysuit laced with glowing runes, accentuating her deadly elegance. The moonlit battlefield around her is a frozen wasteland, icy winds howling through jagged, crystalline spires that jut from the earth like the fangs of some forgotten colossus. Behind her, her monstrous companion—a massive warg with pitch-black fur and six glowing white eyes—snarls, its breath forming mist in the frigid air. The beast’s elongated fangs drip with a shimmering, arcane venom, and its silver-plated armor gleams under the full moon’s ghostly glow. The huntress nocks a black-feathered arrow, her lips curling into a confident smirk as she locks onto an unseen foe, poised to unleash death beneath the pale, haunting light.

A towering, menacing dark warrior clad in sharp, black armor adorned with glowing red cracks, standing amidst a desolate sword graveyard under a looming full moon in a haunted, shadowy forest. His pale skin contrasts sharply with the eerie darkness around him, and long, flowing silver hair cascades down from his head, crowned by two sharp, curved horns. His chest is bare but muscular, with a glowing red gem embedded in it, pulsing with ominous energy. No sword is in his hands; instead, hundreds of long, deadly swords are plunged into the ground around him, their blades reflecting the faint, ghostly light of the moon.
The atmosphere is thick with a sense of foreboding, as the earth is riddled with volcanic cracks that glow with molten lava beneath the warriorâs feet. The air shimmers with the heat and dark magic radiating from him, while spectral shadows twist and writhe at the edges of the forest, enhancing the sense of malevolent energy. His clenched fists and commanding stance suggest an untapped reservoir of dark power. The swords, each unique and worn with age, stand like silent sentinels, amplifying the sense of ancient, forbidden power tied to this warriorâs presence.
The supernatural lighting casts deep shadows across the landscape, with stark contrasts between the glowing swords, the molten cracks in the earth, and the vibrant red energy pulsating from the gem in his chest. The scene is rendered in high contrast, with intricate metallic and organic details of the armor highlighted against the dark and surreal backdrop, exuding an overwhelming sense of dark power and malevolence.
<lora:Aura_Flux:0.6>
<lora:FluxF4ngs:0.8> fangs
<lora:Dever_Flux_Enhancer:0.5>
<lora:FluxMythP0rtr4itStyle:0.75> mythp0rt
<lora:Midjourney_-_SemiReal_Dreams_FLUX_LoRA:0.85>

In a forgotten, overgrown cemetery, a ghostly woman with glowing white eyes and translucent skin sits quietly atop a cracked, weathered tombstone, her small, pale hands clasped in her lap. The air around her is thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves, and the soft, rustling sound of the wind moving through the tall grass adds an eerie stillness to the night. The cemetery is bathed in the faint, silvery glow of the crescent moon, casting long shadows across the uneven ground, where old, crumbling tombstones stand in silent rows. The woman's ghostly form flickers faintly, as though she is only half-present, her delicate white dress stained with dirt and torn at the hem. Surrounding her, the twisted branches of ancient oak trees reach out like skeletal arms, their gnarled trunks covered in thick moss and ivy. The ghostâs expression is one of quiet sorrow, her gaze distant as she stares at the tombstone beneath her, the name long since worn away by time. The air is cold and still, filled with the soft whispers of forgotten souls, as the woman's presence lingers in this lonely, forgotten place. The scene feels frozen in time, where the living and the dead are separated only by a thin veil of mist and moonlight. , detailed background Fantastic lighting. Detailed shadows.intricate details, vivid colors, hyper-detailed, ultra-sharp,meiman_style,This is a retro comic book style digital illustration, <lora:å¤å¤ç¾æ¼«v2:0.4><lora:Vintage comic book:0.4><lora:RetroAnimeFluxV1:0.15><lora:Greg_Capullo_style:0.4><lora:jeanClaude_Mzires_Style_FLUX-000001:0.4><lora:Flux_Ink_Anime:0.4>

40yo Woman as a Death Mage on a battlefield, wearing dark crimson and midnight blue robes adorned with arcane symbols, silver-plated armor pieces on her shoulders and chest, short-cropped black hair streaked with gray, eyes ablaze with fiery determination, casting a deathly spell of decay and entropy, a swirling vortex of dark purple energy and mist emanating from her outstretched hands. Hyper detailed in the artistic styles of Paul Dainton, Adrian Smith, and John Blanche, captured from a front view with a resolute, intense expression, digital painting, photorealistic, deep reds, blues, and greys, ultra detailed, skin pores, sharp focus, intricate details, highly detailed, background of a devastated battlefield, charred earth with broken weapons, dead soldiers, a distant smoldering city skyline under a blood-red sky with the air crackling with magical energy.
<lora:ImageUpgraderV2:0.4> detailmaximizer <lora:FluxMythP0rtr4itStyle:0.3> mythp0rt

Amidst a scorched and unforgiving realm of molten fury, a lone elven warrior stands as an unyielding sentinel of fire and death. The ground beneath her feet is cracked and broken, with rivers of molten lava weaving through the obsidian terrain like veins of liquid flame. The air shimmers with unbearable heat, distorting the jagged cliffs and hellish landscape that rise in the distance. Towering plumes of smoke claw their way into the crimson sky, while embers swirl like dying stars caught in an eternal descent. Yet, amidst this infernal chaos, the figure of the elven warrior stands motionless, a dark and formidable presence carved from shadow and flame.
Her skin is deep crimson, as if it were kissed and tempered by the fires of this very realm. It gleams faintly in the dim, hellish light, a stark contrast to the white cascade of hair bound tightly into a massive ponytail that falls like a silver waterfall behind her. Her face is sharp and grim, her features hardened by countless battles, with no trace of warmth or mercy. Piercing red eyes glow like embers beneath a furrowed brow, their fire burning with cold, lethal intent. They seem to cut through the sweltering haze, fixating on an unseen foe, daring them to challenge her dominion.
Her armor is a marvel of dark artistry, forged from blackened steel and tempered with the very essence of blood-red fire. Each plate is massive and intimidating, inspired by the ancient designs of the Japanese samurai, yet twisted into something more sinister and otherworldly. The intricate detailingâpatterns of dragons, fire, and thornsâembellish the overlapping layers of the armor, etched in glimmers of deep red. Its jagged edges and sharp ridges evoke a sense of feral power, as though the armor itself hungers for battle. Thick armored gauntlets encase her hands, their joints reinforced to hold the colossal weapon she commands. The shoulder pauldrons extend outward like the wings of a demon, casting shadows that dance upon the burning ground.
In her grasp rests an immense, towering greatswordâits blade forged from the same dark red and black metal as her armor, as if it had been pulled from the depths of a volcanic forge. The weapon is impossibly massive, the edge jagged and cruel, humming faintly with the low vibrations of destructive energy. The hilt is wrapped in dark leather, its guard angular and ornate, designed to resemble curling horns of fire. Though it rests with its tip buried in the cracked, steaming ground, the sword exudes a weighty menace, a promise of annihilation with every swing. Her hands, gloved in obsidian gauntlets, rest calmly upon the guard, her posture unwavering like a fortress of flesh and steel.
The ground around her crackles, heat rising in waves that distort her silhouette like a mirage, yet her figure remains solidâunyielding, unstoppable. Behind her, the lava landscape pulses with life, its rivers glowing a molten orange as they surge and spill across the ruined earth. Fiery geysers erupt in the distance, sending sparks spiraling into the heavy, ash-filled sky. Sharp, jagged cliffs frame the scene like the ribs of a dead god, their surfaces glistening with molten veins that seem to bleed from within. The harsh red and black tones of the scene envelop the warrior, yet she does not fade into the backgroundâher aura seems to draw the fire toward her, as if the very earth recognizes her as one of its own.
The wind carries with it the scent of sulfur and burning rock, whipping her hair and cape into slow, deliberate motion. The massive ponytail sways like a silver banner, a stark contrast to the darkness that surrounds her. Flickers of glowing embers rise and die at her feet, carried on the invisible breath of the volcanic plain. Her armor gleams faintly in the firelight, its reflective surfaces broken only by the scorched shadows that play across her form. Every line of her body radiates strength, discipline, and a warriorâs resolveâa being forged from war itself.
The composition of the scene is one of dark majesty, as the elf commands the viewerâs attention. She is a pillar of strength amidst the infernal chaos, a conqueror who has claimed this fiery hellscape as her own. The dynamic interplay of the glowing reds and deep blacks paints a world that is both vibrant and menacing, while the harsh shadows cast by her form emphasize her power and unshakable presence. It is as though she exists outside of time, eternally standing guard over this molten realm, a grim and beautiful warden of destruction.
In this moment, the elven warrior is not just a figure in the landscapeâshe is the very embodiment of its fury and its beauty. A sentinel of flame, forged by the fires of war and bound by her unrelenting will, she stands unmoving in the face of oblivion, a silent warning to any who dare challenge her dominion.
DB4RZ, g0thicPXL, mythp0rt
<lora:FLUX-daubrez-DB4RZ-v2:0.8>, <lora:gopFLUX:0.15>, <lora:artisketchyfs-v02:0.2>, <lora:FluxMythP0rtr4itStyle:0.15>

Comic book style
An immense, nightmarish panther, its body a seething mass of black, violet, and cerulean flames, moves with silent yet terrifying grace towards the viewer. Its molten, fiery eyes burn with a hunger beyond the mortal realm, locked onto its target with an unwavering, deadly focus. Each step it takes leaves the ground scorched and broken, setting the jungle ablaze in spectral fire. Trees groan and collapse into glowing embers, their twisted silhouettes flickering against the unnatural inferno. Vines curl and wither in the unbearable heat, while the undergrowth ignites in waves, consuming the land like a creeping curse. The air is thick with the scent of burning wood and seared earth, distorting the very fabric of reality. The sky is an abyss, utterly black, devoid of moon or stars, offering no solace—only an endless void reflecting the destruction below. The beast’s muscles ripple beneath its flame-forged skin, shifting like liquid fire, its claws carving glowing trenches into the smoldering ground. Its growl reverberates through the choked air, a deep, primordial sound that promises death. With every slow, deliberate step, it closes the distance, a relentless predator in a world it has already claimed.

Newfantasycore, Fractal Geometry Style, Top-Down View, A desolate landscape stretches before us, where obsidian seers stand watchful, their glowing, hollow eyes aglow like embers from a long-dead fire. The air is heavy with the scent of burnt umber, as if the very earth itself had been set ablaze.
In the distance, a mountain range rises, its peaks shrouded in a perpetual twilight, as if the sun had never truly risen. And yet, amidst this desolation, tattered banners of the damned flutter in the faint breeze, bearing symbols of ancient power and forgotten lore.
Before us lies an empire

Amid the heart of an ancient jungle, where vines coil like serpents and the dense canopy filters the moonlight into ethereal beams, stands a queen of unparalleled majesty and strength. She is a warrior of the wild, an elvish monarch whose presence commands both respect and reverence in her verdant domain.
Draped in a long brown cape that cascades from her shoulders, the queen appears as one with the jungleâs natural palette. The capeâs edges are embroidered with subtle patterns resembling leaves and vines, blending harmoniously with her surroundings. Open in the front, it reveals a dark green shirt that hugs her form, layered with a brown tabard adorned with intricate dark green ornaments that shimmer faintly, catching the glimmers of moonlight.
Her legs are clad in dark green leggings, flexible and suited for stealth and agility, while her feet are encased in sturdy leather boots, scuffed from countless journeys through the untamed wilderness. Her shoulders and gloved hands are protected by gleaming iron armor plates, a stark reminder that she is not only a ruler but a warrior who defends her people and their sacred lands. A leather belt wraps securely around her waist, adorned with pouches and satchels filled with the tools of survival, potions, and relics of her jungle kingdom.
Perched upon her brow is a crown of weight and significance, a heavy circlet of silver and jade that gleams softly in the night. Its design echoes the forms of jungle flora, with intertwining leaves and vines carved into the metal. Beneath the crown, her long brown hair flows in intricate braids, adorned with small beads of bone and emerald. Her pointed ears, a mark of her elvish heritage, peek gracefully through her braided locks, heightening her regal and otherworldly aura.
She wields a massive icy sword, a weapon of both beauty and deadly power. Its blade glows faintly with a frosty light, its surface etched with ancient runes that seem to breathe with a chill energy. Her hands rest lightly on the guard, the tip of the sword pressing into the mossy ground, frost spreading subtly across the earth at its base. The swordâs glow contrasts sharply with the humid warmth of the jungle, an emblem of her authority and the untamed power she wields.
At her side stands a colossal tiger, its sleek, striped coat gleaming in the moonlight. The beastâs golden eyes shine with a fierce intelligence, its muscled form exuding both grace and raw power. The tiger stands close, an unwavering sentinel and loyal companion, its presence amplifying the queenâs already formidable aura.
The backdrop is a living, breathing jungle at night. Massive trees rise into the heavens, their branches intertwined to form a natural cathedral. Bioluminescent plants and fungi cast soft, magical glows, painting the scene with hues of green, blue, and gold. Thick vines dangle from above, and the rustle of unseen creatures adds an air of mystery. The air itself seems alive, shimmering faintly with the latent magic of the jungle.
The queenâs expression is serene yet commanding, a blend of wisdom, empathy, and unyielding strength. The interplay of lightâthe icy glow of her sword, the tigerâs luminous eyes, and the moonâs dappled beamsâcreates a dynamic and magical composition.
She stands as the embodiment of her kingdom, a protector of its wild beauty and a symbol of its fierce resilience. The colors of her attire and surroundingsâearthy browns, deep greens, and frosty bluesâform a harmonious tableau, capturing the essence of life thriving in balance with nature. This is a queen who bridges the primal and the regal, a warrior whose spirit is as untamed as the jungle she calls home.
DB4RZ, g0thicPXL, mythp0rt
<lora:FLUX-daubrez-DB4RZ-v2:0.8>, <lora:gopFLUX:0.15>, <lora:artisketchyfs-v02:0.2>, <lora:FluxMythP0rtr4itStyle:0.15>

Back View, Surrealist Fantasy Abstraction Style, In a desolate land of dried sepia hues, death crows with razor-sharp feathers descend upon a battlefield where bone-armored berserkers clash in brutal combat. Amidst the chaos, ancient evils awaken from their slumber, whispering eerie echoes of the dead through the windless air. The ground is littered with bones scattered across the blackened earth, leading into shadowy labyrinths that seem to swallow the darkness. A bone-crafted crown lies broken, a symbol of forgotten power amidst the devastation., newfantasycore

A mesmerizing figure emerges from the shadowy depths of a dark forest under the ethereal glow of a full moon. She is an assassin of elvish descent, her presence an intoxicating blend of danger, grace, and mystique. Her long, curly white hair cascades down her back in silken waves, catching the faint silver of the moonlight. Intricate braids weave through her hair, adding a touch of elegance to her otherwise lethal demeanor. Her pointed ears, a hallmark of her elven lineage, peek gracefully through the snowy locks.
Her piercing bright blue eyes, framed by dramatic smokey makeup, are sharp and calculating, glowing faintly in the dim light as they scan her surroundings with predatory precision. Her youthful face is both beautiful and intimidating, a visage of deadly allure that conceals her merciless skill as an assassin.
Her attire is a masterpiece of stealth and style, a perfect blend of functionality and seduction. She wears a form-fitting black leather armor, its glossy surface catching the faint moonlight as it clings to her lithe, athletic frame. The armor features a daring cleavage, drawing attention to a large blue gem embedded at the sternum, its faint light pulsing like a heartbeatâa magical artifact that hints at her mastery of stealth and deception.
Her shoulders are protected by additional layers of black leather armor, reinforced with sleek, silver-plated shoulder guards that gleam with cold precision. Her gloves, a combination of supple black leather and silver plating, extend past her wrists, their design both elegant and deadly. Silver armor plates accentuate her hips, adding both protection and an aura of strength.
Her tight black leather pants are adorned with daring cutouts on either side, revealing hints of her flawless pale skin beneath. Attached to her pristine white belt is a flowing white skirt, slit dramatically at the front, allowing her full range of motion. The skirt sways gently in the cool midnight breeze, adding an almost ethereal quality to her otherwise shadowy appearance. Draped over her shoulders is a white cape that flows behind her like a ghostly whisper, its soft fabric catching the moonlight and contrasting starkly with the dark tones of her armor.
On her feet, she wears sleek black leather high-heeled boots, their sharp design a testament to her agility and finesse. Each step she takes is silent and deliberate, her heels sinking into the soft earth without a sound, as though the forest itself dares not betray her presence.
The setting is as hauntingly beautiful as she is. The forest is dense and alive with shadows, its towering trees reaching like skeletal fingers toward the heavens. The full moon hangs high above, casting its silvery light through the canopy and illuminating the scene in an otherworldly glow. Her silhouette is sharp and striking against the moonlit backdrop, a haunting vision of grace and lethality.
Around her, the air is heavy with the scent of damp earth and blooming nightshade, the forest floor dappled with patches of soft moonlight. Wisps of fog curl around her feet like ghostly tendrils, and the distant call of an owl breaks the silence, adding a touch of eerie ambiance to the scene.
The dynamic energy of the moment is palpable. Her cape flutters gently in the cool night air, and her hair, caught by a soft breeze, moves like liquid moonlight. The gem at her sternum glows faintly, casting subtle blue light that dances across her armor, hinting at the arcane powers she wields.
She stands poised, ready to strike, every muscle coiled with tension. Her eyes, luminous and unyielding, lock onto her unseen target. Around her, the shadows seem to move and swirl in response to her presence, as if the forest itself acknowledges her command over the night.
This is not just an assassinâit is a deadly apparition, a nightshade who moves with the grace of a dancer and strikes with the precision of a predator. She is both a creature of light and shadow, a figure of haunting beauty and unmatched lethality, a legend whispered among those who dwell in the world of the unseen.
DB4RZ, g0thicPXL, mythp0rt
<lora:FLUX-daubrez-DB4RZ-v2:0.8>, <lora:gopFLUX:0.15>, <lora:artisketchyfs-v02:0.2>, <lora:FluxMythP0rtr4itStyle:0.15>

A lone male knight stands atop a towering, jagged rock, a figure of unyielding resolve against a backdrop of stormy chaos. The heavens above churn with dark, thunderous clouds, streaks of lightning illuminating the battlefield below in fleeting flashes. The wind howls, carrying with it the distant clamor of warâshouts, the clash of steel, and the ominous rumble. Yet, amidst this tempest, the knight is an immovable sentinel, radiating both strength and defiance.
Clad in massive, radiant iron armor, every plate polished to a mirror-like gleam, the knight's form is both imposing and majestic. The armor bears intricate engravings of ancient symbols and battle-worn scratches that tell the story of countless victories. The sheer weight of the armor is evident, but it does nothing to hinder his commanding presence. Over his shoulders flows a crimson cape, torn and frayed by countless battles, whipping violently in the wind as if it shares his indomitable spirit.
His helmet, fully enclosing his face, is a masterpiece of craftsmanship. The visor, fashioned like a frowning visage, conceals his identity, adding an aura of mystery and menace. Atop the helmet rises a magnificent crest of red feathers, vibrant and defiant even in the storm's gloom. The plume sways with the gusts, a beacon of his unyielding spirit.
In his hand, he holds a massive broadsword, the blade forged to perfection. The metal gleams coldly in the dim light, reflecting both the storm above and the chaos below. The sword's edge is deadly sharp, and it's hilt intricately adorned with crimson inlays and symbols of protection and power. The knight holds it effortlessly, as though they are extensions of his will, the weight a testament to his unparalleled strength and skill.
The rock beneath him rises above the battlefield like a natural fortress, jagged and unyielding, much like the knight himself. Around him, the landscape is a grim tableau of destructionâscattered weapons, broken siege engines, and fallen warriors litter the ground, muted in the moody, stormy light. The earth is scorched and torn, as if the land itself has been ravaged by the ferocity of battle.
The knight's stance is one of readiness and determination, his swords raised slightly as if anticipating the next wave of foes. His figure dominates the scene, the interplay of light and shadow accentuating every curve of his armor and every sharp edge of his weapons. Behind him, the storm grows fiercer, bolts of lightning framing his silhouette in fleeting moments of brilliance. The air around him hums with the tension of an impending clash, as though the very world is holding its breath.
The overall composition is moody and powerful, drenched in shades of grey, silver, and crimson. The stormy sky and ravaged battlefield create a stark contrast to the knight's gleaming armor and vibrant plume, drawing all focus to him. He is the epitome of a battle-hardened warrior, standing alone but ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead, a symbol of unshakable courage in a world engulfed by chaos.
DB4RZ, g0thicPXL, mythp0rt
<lora:FLUX-daubrez-DB4RZ-v2:0.8>, <lora:gopFLUX:0.15>, <lora:artisketchyfs-v02:0.2>, <lora:FluxMythP0rtr4itStyle:0.15>

Dystopian image of endless wasteland full of shadowy people, dead trees and broken dilapidated buildings. Moon in sky is broken and bleeds. Agonized earth writhes under withering world.

R3alisticF,A hyper-realistic portrait, photorealistic photo close-up image of On the windswept plains of a desolate wasteland, a slayer with ash-gray skin and glowing white eyes rides a black, skeletal horse, her long, silver hair streaming behind her like a banner. The sky above is dark and swirling with storm clouds, lightning flashing across the horizon as a swarm of undead creatures shambles toward her. Her armor, made of bone and leather, is adorned with runes that glow faintly in the gathering storm, and her massive scythe gleams with a cold, ethereal light. The horseâs hooves strike the cracked earth with a hollow, thunderous sound, and its glowing red eyes fixate on the approaching horde. The wind howls across the plains, carrying with it the scent of decay and the distant sound of thunder. The slayerâs expression is one of grim focus, her gaze locked on the rotting army before her, ready to cut them down with a single sweep of her scythe. Behind her, the ruins of an ancient city lie in shadow, its towers crumbling and forgotten, a reminder of a long-dead civilization. The scene is one of desolation and power, as the slayer rides alone through the storm, ready to face death itself. (photography, high-resolution, dynamic, energetic,hyper-realistic, dramatic lighting, shallow depth of field.) Fantastic lighting. Detailed shadows.intricate details, vivid colors, hyper-detailed, ultra-sharp<lora:FluxMythR3alisticF><lora:PCB_Image_Enhancer_for_FLUX:0.35>

$A androgynous figure in a prismatic hazmat suit cultivates crystalline flowers that refract memories of dead cities. Their face shifts between genders/ages with each step, and their gloves leak liquid mercury into the cracked earth. Behind them, a pyramid of shattered mirrors reflects alternate timelines—some lush, some smoldering. (texture: glass shards vs. mercury), Hasselblad X2D 100C, --surreal --apocalypse, aidmafluxpro1.1$

Behold the mighty *NagaBot*, a Naga of terrifying power and unmatched elegance, whose very presence distorts the air around it. Rising from the earth, its sinuous, serpentine body coils and undulates with the grace of a living weapon. The Naga’s lower half is a mass of gleaming, iridescent scales, each one perfectly aligned in an intricate pattern, reflecting light with a deadly beauty. The scales, darker than the night, shimmer with a subtle, metallic sheen—black with hints of deep crimson, glowing like embers of a forgotten god. Massive fangs protrude from its mouth, sharp as obsidian, capable of rending through even the toughest of materials with a single strike. Its slit-like eyes burn with malevolent glow, pupils narrowing with cold precision, ever calculating. The Naga’s long, muscular tail whips with power, a perfect extension of its body, Adorned with glowing red hexagonal patterns along its body, SentinelBot’s cybernetic enhancements radiate an unsettling, otherworldly energy. Each movement is deliberate, powerful—its immense strength is rivaled only by its unmatched agility. The armor covering its torso and upper body enhances its already formidable form, while a sleek, high-tech helmet hides its face, This is no mere creature; this is a god of serpentine grace, a being whose very existence is a declaration of dominance over all. The natural world is its domain—sand, sky, and sea are but mere pawns beneath the great and terrible *SentinelBot*.

FLUX

Dev - flux_dev.safetensors