null tiny chaotic trails

Hyperdetailed, masterpiece, professional, dark fantasy. The (close-up camera:1.5) follows behind a bulky soviet gothic stalinian style gargantuan (streamlined:1.4) capital ship with missile batteries in rotating turrets and big coilguns on flanks as it unleashes (swarm withering salvoes of tiny chaotic trails missiles:1.7). The vessel is seen from the rear with a close-up on huge icy blue plasma reactors following this attacked colossal dreadnought sustaining huge damages and fighting for its life in a decisive clash between rival armadas. Smaller support spacecrafts darting around it amidst the maelstrom of huge explosions. In background : black cosmos adorned with (countless twinkling glowing stars:1.4) and a supermassive red blazing sun, nebulae, gaz clouds and swirling cosmic phenomena. Dramatic lighting and composition showcase the vessel's formidable presence within the epic chaotic space battle full of explosions. make feel the thousands of screaming souls. swarm of chaotic smoke trails tiny missiles flight, huge explosion, cinematic, poster, dark fantasy

In a dimly lit, cluttered workshop, a group of mischievous gremlins scurry about, their tiny hands busying themselves with the chaotic task at hand. With wide, gleaming eyes and wiry limbs, these small creatures exude an air of playful energy as they tip over paint cans, sending vibrant splatters of red and blue cascading onto the floor. The room is filled with the pungent smell of turpentine and freshly cut wood, creating a chaotic blend that tantalizes the senses.
As one gremlin, adorned with a tattered, colorful cap, swings from a workbench, he lets out a gleeful shriek, while another, balancing precariously on a stack of discarded tools, giggles mischievously, clutching a spanner twice his size. The old clock on the wall ticks laboriously, adding to the whimsical pandemonium as scraps of paper flutter about, carried by the excited gusts of air stirred up by their antics.
Spools of thread, once neatly stored, are untangled, and bright balls of yarn roll wildly, creating a vibrant, tangled mess across the dusty floor. The sound of clanging metal and high-pitched laughter fills the workshop, underscored by the distant rumble of thunder outside, hinting at an approaching storm. The atmosphere is electric with mischief and delight, as the gremlins continue their chaotic play, leaving a trail of delightful disorder in their wake. <lora:amateurphoto-6version:1> <lora:Weird_Animals:1>

$The Pope lies on a floating slab of obsidian, suspended in a vast, cathedral-like void where gravity seems to unravel. His frail form is wrapped in robes that shimmer like molten pearl, fraying into threads of light at the edges. His rosary has transformed into a constellation of glowing orbs, orbiting his hands like tiny suns. Above him, Jesus emerges not as a man but as a towering, kaleidoscopic silhouette—his form a mosaic of stained glass and liquid flame, shifting between ruby reds and cosmic blues, his voice a silent thunder that ripples the air with golden waves. Angels swarm the scene, but they’re far from ordinary—winged beings of fractured crystal and smoke, their faces obscured by halos of spinning glyphs, each trailing comet-like tails of iridescent light that twist into impossible shapes. The lighting is chaotic yet mesmerizing: jagged bolts of silver radiance erupt from a shattered crystal chandelier overhead, while a pulsing, emerald-green aurora spills from the Pope’s chest, as if his soul is leaking into the ether. Beyond a jagged tear in the void’s wall, St. Peter’s Basilica floats upside-down in a sea of swirling nebulae, its dome ablaze with a crown of violet fire. From the shadows, ghostly hands of vapor reach toward the Pope, clutching scrolls that unravel into streams of glowing Latin script, spiraling upward into a vortex of starlit mist. His eyes glow faintly, reflecting a vision unseen, as a single feather of molten gold drifts down from the chaos above, landing softly on his trembling brow.$

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