View allAll Photos Tagged Finalization
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Aurelia Nyss is not a warrior by birth — she is a guardian by purpose.
Forged in the celestial convergence known as the First Dawnfall, she is the last of the Concordant Flame, an order that swore to preserve balance between destruction and memory — to protect light not for its purity, but for its meaning.
Her form is woven from solar silk and crystal-forged armor, her body aglow with refracted starlight. Around her burns the Crown of the Halo Core, a celestial artifact that channels the last unbroken ray from a dying sun. Her staff, Solvair, holds the stabilized heart of a collapsed star — a weapon and a beacon, capable of banishing shadow or searing the soul.
Aurelia is more than divine beauty. She is discipline. Measured radiance. Quiet fury.
Where Volkraeth reduces all to ash, Aurelia preserves the spark — the spark of knowledge, of harmony, of potential not yet lost.
She resides within the Celestial Vault, a realm built on gravity-tempered glass orbiting a black hole, where memories of fallen civilizations are encoded in latticework light. From this sanctuary, she watches the cosmos — not as a goddess, but as a keeper of hope too sacred to be erased.
To many, she is the last light before oblivion.
To Volkraeth, she is the only flame he cannot consume.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
"What remains when fire fails to finish the story?"
Essence
Ashwrought are the charred remnants of beings who died bound by broken promises, unkept oaths, or seething vengeance never released. The fire that consumed them did not cleanse — it transformed. Now, these hollow husks stalk the Emberwastes, driven not by thought, but by the magnetic pull of what was left undone.
Appearance
Skeletal, blackened forms with ember-cracked skin, glowing softly beneath fissures.
Trails of ash fall from them as they move, as if they are constantly eroding.
Some bear remnants of armor, burned banners, or melted seals of old allegiances.
Eyes like forge-coals, dim when still, flaring when they sense broken truth nearby.
Behavior
Attracted to liars, oathbreakers, and those whose hearts harbor unresolved rage.
Often seen wandering in looping patterns, reenacting moments of betrayal.
React violently if approached during one of these “memory loops.”
Can be calmed — temporarily — by acts of truth, remembrance, or genuine forgiveness.
Abilities
Vowfire Surge: Erupts in flame when near a spoken lie or vow broken in its presence.
Ashbind: Touches a target and brands them with a memory-burn of their greatest betrayal.
Smolderwake: Leaves behind trails of cursed ash that ignite under deceit or hidden resentment.
Symbolism
Embodiments of unresolved endings.
The price of words unkept and passions unfulfilled.
Fire as consequence, not release.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoscape X and Photoshop.
The Hollow Veil
General Appearance:
•- Tiny, feline-like creatures about the size of a gremlin.
•- Fur that flows like silk-mist in pastel hues: lavender, pale gold, mint-green, and silver.
•- A faint halo of pollen-lights drifts around their heads and shoulders.
•- Long, curled ears tipped with flower-petal shapes.
•- Wears delicate accessories: crowns of moonflowers, spider-silk scarves, tiny tail charms.
•- Eyes: Large, luminous, reflecting all the colors of a dreaming garden at dusk.
Witch-like Elements:
•- Their scent mixes vanilla, night-bloom jasmine, and honeyed mist.
Abilities:
•- Memory Lantern: Illuminates paths through emotional storms and Veil tears.
•- Echo Drift: Can briefly phase into an alternate Echo to scout unseen paths.
•- Mistthread Bond: Strengthens emotional resilience between the Familiar and its bonded traveler.
•- Silent Pulse: Communicates emotions and warnings directly into the mind of the bonded soul.
•- Dreamlight Weaving: Weaves glowing threads of dreamstuff to mend broken memories.
•- Pollenveil: Summons a drifting cloud of mist-pollen that hides them and their friends.
•- Echo Soothing: Calms restless Echoes, guiding them back to peace.
Behavior:
•- Highly curious, deeply empathetic, and very playful.
•- Whispers tiny encouragements and blessings in travelers' dreams.
•- Tends to small broken things: lost memories, cracked Echoes, forgotten flowers.
•- Can vanish into a swirl of glittering mist when threatened — never attacking.
Bonding Ritual:
•- A traveler must willingly share a pure memory — joy, sorrow, or love — with the mists of the Whispergroves.
•- If accepted, a Mistwisp Familiar is born from the mist itself, forever linked to the traveler’s emotional soulprint.
Where Found:
•- Most commonly seen in the Verdant Reverie near silver rivers and blooming mistgroves.
•- Some Mistwisps secretly follow kind-hearted travelers, weaving unseen blessings into their paths.
Nature and Myth:
•- Mistwisps are believed to be fragments of ancient, kind dreams that refused to fade.
•- They are gardeners of small hopes, stitching new life from forgotten wonders.
•- It is said that if a Mistwisp weaves a bloom-crown for you, you will never be lost in the Hollow Veil again.
Manifestation Outcome:
•- "Where dreams are too small for the world to notice, the Mistwisp Familiar blooms — a wisp of kindness stitched from mist and memory."
Rarity:
•- Extremely rare outside sacred places like the Verdant Reverie.
Legends and Echoes:
•- Some say that the Mistwisp Familiars are the dreams that the Hollow Veil refused to forget.
•- Ancient songs claim that those who betray their Familiar risk losing themselves entirely to the mist.
Quotes:
•- “Not every dream fades — some stay to guide.”
•- “Where mist lingers, a wisp may listen.”
•- “Hold your memories tight, or your Familiar will hold them tighter.”
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
"Some grief sinks. Some grief learns to crawl."
Essence
The Sorrowfen is a weeping mire of ancient betrayal, heartbreak, and buried guilt. The swamp itself is sentient in fragments — it does not think, but it remembers. Every step taken here stirs echoes of sorrow long buried, sometimes not even your own. It is a place where secrets rot and grow teeth.
Environment
Murky waters that reflect memories rather than sky.
Sinking ruins of temples and sunken gallows swallowed by moss.
Trees that bleed resin like tears, and vines that twitch when spoken to.
Faint sobbing carried on the wind, directionless but persistent.
Ground sometimes solid, sometimes vanishing beneath unspoken guilt.
Inhabitants & Entities
The Mawborn: A legendary presence known as the Harrow of Broken Vows. Feeds on regret and forgotten grief. Victims are consumed not by teeth, but by sorrow itself.
Siltmourners: Shadowy shades that follow weeping travelers, mirroring their emotions.
Guiltbloom Hags: Witches rooted to the mire who feed on confession and offer poison for penance.
Bogged Martyrs: Once-heroes bound in brambles, still begging for a different ending.
Hazards
Memory Leeches: Invisible parasites that drain moments of happiness to feed the bog.
Sorrow Sink: Emotional weight physically drags travelers under.
Echo Floods: Sudden surges of water accompanied by psychic echoes of past regrets.
Mechanics & Mysticism
Confession Pools: Whispering into them reveals hidden truths — not always yours.
The Fen’s Toll: Entering a sacred zone requires surrendering a memory or truth.
Themes
Emotional weight made real.
The price of silence.
Healing through acknowledgment — or sinking deeper through denial.
Visual Aesthetic
Palette: deep green, rot-brown, ghost-white, weeping silver
Style Tags: melancholic horror, haunted wetlands, emotional decay
Anchor Quote
"In the Sorrowfen, even the silence knows what you did."
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X.
A dark, ancient ritual chamber deep within the Sepulchral Spire; towering stone columns circle the sacred Altar of Veiled Echo — a glowing obsidian platform inscribed with soul-glyphs and surrounded by drifting ash; standing directly before it is a newly risen Hollowborn — skeletal, cloaked in black ceremonial robes, glowing blue soulflame burning in his eyes; his presence is solemn and menacing, gripping a relic staff, his form bathed in fractured light from decayed stained-glass windows; the air is still, heavy with the echo of severed names; light filters down through sacred dust and forgotten hymns
The F-105 Thunderchief, which would become a legend in the history of the Vietnam War, started out very modestly as a proposal for a large, supersonic replacement for the RF-84F Thunderflash tactical reconnaissance fighter in 1951. Later this was expanded by Republic’s famous chief designer, Alexander Kartveli, to a nuclear-capable, high-speed, low-altitude penetration tactical fighter-bomber which could also replace the F-84 Thunderstreak.
The USAF liked the idea, as the F-84 had shown itself to be at a disadvantage against Chinese and Soviet-flown MiG-15s over Korea, and ordered 200 of the new design before it was even finalized. This order was reduced to only 37 aircraft with the end of the Korean War, but nonetheless the first YF-105A Thunderchief flew in October 1955. Although it was equipped with an interim J57 engine and had drag problems, it still achieved supersonic speed. When the design was further refined as the YF-105B, with the J75 engine and area ruling, it went over Mach 2. This was in spite of the fact that the design had mushroomed in size from Kartveli’s initial idea to one of the largest and heaviest fighter ever to serve with the USAF: fully loaded, the F-105 was heavier than a B-17 bomber. The USAF ordered 1800 F-105s, though this would be reduced to 830 examples.
Almost immediately, the F-105 began to be plagued with problems. Some of the trouble could be traced to the normal teething problems of any new aircraft, but for awhile it seemed the Thunderchief was too hot to handle, with a catastrophically high accident rate. This led to the aircraft getting the nickname of “Thud,” supposedly for the sound it made when hitting the ground, along with other not-so-affectionate monikers such as “Ultra Hog” and “Squat Bomber.” Despite its immense size and bad reputation, however, the F-105 was superb at high speeds, especially at low level, was difficult to stall, and its cockpit was commended for its ergonomic layout. Earlier “narrow-nose” F-105Bs were replaced by wider-nosed, radar-equipped F-105Ds, the mainline version of the Thunderchief, while two-seat F-105Fs were built as conversion trainers.
Had it not been for the Vietnam War, however, the F-105 might have gone down in history as simply another mildly successful 1950s era design. Deployed to Vietnam at the beginning of the American involvement there in 1964, the Thunderchief was soon heading to North Vietnam to attack targets there in the opening rounds of Operation Rolling Thunder; this was in spite of the fact that the F-105 was designed primarily as a low-level (and, as its pilots insisted, one-way) tactical nuclear bomber. Instead, F-105s were heading north festooned with conventional bombs.
As Rolling Thunder gradually expanded to all of North Vietnam, now-camouflaged Thuds “going Downtown” became iconic, fighting their way through the densest concentration of antiaircraft fire in history, along with SAMs and MiG fighters. The F-105 now gained a reputation for something else: toughness, a Republic hallmark. Nor were they defenseless: unlike the USAF’s primary fighter, the F-4 Phantom II, the F-105 retained an internal 20mm gatling cannon, and MiG-17s which engaged F-105s was far from a foregone conclusion, as 27 MiGs were shot down by F-105s for the loss of about 20. If nothing else, Thud pilots no longer burdened with bombs could simply elect to head home at Mach 2 and two thousand feet, outdistancing any MiG defenders.
If the Thud had any weakness, it was its hydraulic system, which was found to be extremely vulnerable to damage. However, it was likely more due to poor tactics and the restrictive Rules of Engagement, which sent F-105s into battle on predictable routes, unable to return fire on SAM sites until missiles were launched at them, and their F-4 escorts hamstrung by being forced to wait until MiGs were on attack runs before the MiGs could be engaged. The tropical climate also took a toll on man and machine, with the end result that 382 F-105s were lost over Vietnam, nearly half of all Thuds ever produced and the highest loss rate of any USAF aircraft.
The combination of a high loss rate and the fact that the F-105 really was not designed to be used in the fashion it was over Vietnam led to the type’s gradual withdrawal after 1968 in favor of more F-4s and a USAF version of the USN’s A-7 Corsair II. An improved all-weather bombing system, Thunderstick II, was given to a few of the F-105D survivors, but this was not used operationally.
The Thud soldiered on another decade in Air National Guard and Reserve units until February 1984, when the type was finally retired in favor of the F-16, and its spiritual successor, the A-10 Thunderbolt II.
Of all the aircraft I saw on my May 2021 trip, I probably saw more Thuds than anything else--no less than ten of them! F-105B 57-5837 would prove to be the last for that trip. Its career began around 1959, when it was assigned to the 4th Tactical Fighter Wing at Seymour-Johnson AFB, North Carolina. As a F-105B, it would not see combat, and was used mainly to train pilots who would be taking the D-model Thuds into combat. As the 4th transitioned to the F-4 Phantom II, 57-5837 was relegated to the 177th TFG (New Jersey ANG) at Atlantic City in 1969, before making the move across the state to the 108th TFG at McGuire AFB--the other New Jersey ANG unit. 57-5837's last stop would be with the 419th TFW (Reserve) at Hill AFB, Utah, where it was retired in 1980. It was then donated to the Castle Air Museum.
For 30 years, 57-5837's camouflage steadily faded, though a sharkmouth was added at one point. In 2018, however, the museum gave the aircraft a needed repaint, and today it looks very nice, in the colors of the 419th when 57-5837 was retired. While I'm partial to the "big nose" F-105D, this is a great restoration.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
From the edge of the known universe, where stars are born and galaxies collapse, XARVEX-9 stands alone — a cybernetic sentinel of the Vantari Hive-Mind, engineered from obsidian alloy, alien insect DNA, and photonic neural matrices.
Its chitin-black exosuit glistens under the ambient glow of a spiraling quasar, intricate with circuit-veins and retractable sensory limbs. Mechanical tendrils twitch across its back, adapting to microshifts in graviton fields. Its head, sleek and armored like a predatory beetle, houses a panoramic ocular array glowing with telemetry data from across light-years.
It watches silently as the galaxy before it writhes — a living tapestry of dying stars and birthing voids. The bridge beneath its feet hums with alien tech, dashboards flickering in unreadable code, while beneath the surface, XARVEX remembers the war it was built to outlive.
It does not speak. It only waits.
Because something is coming through the spiral.
Done in Ai,Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X
"She walks where memory decays and dreams rot into silence."
Behold Sa’Kira Volneth, the Dream-Eater — a sovereign born from the collapse of forgotten empires and nourished by the remnants of extinct hopes. Her obsidian skin glows faintly with cursed light; a blend of deep sapphire and void-born violet. Her burning magenta eyes pierce reality like blades, reflecting the echoes of dying gods.
Her form is wrapped in organic armor — thorned, veined, and adorned with pulsing gemstones harvested from the last breaths of stars. From her head, bio-crystalline spines coil like dark coral, each a neural crown of conquered minds. She is not of one world, but many… all dead.
Sa’Kira does not command armies. She feeds on potential — empires, civilizations, dreams — and leaves only silence behind. Her presence is not a declaration of war… it is an ending wearing grace like a veil.
Done in AI, Finalized with Photoshop.
Tagline: Where the undone, unspoken, and unsent drift forever.
The Latchmire of Left Things is a sunken, mournful marshland deep within the Hollow Veil. It collects all actions never taken, words never said, and paths never walked. Fog thick with emotional sediment hangs over its waters, and the landscape is shaped by relics of missed moments—letters that were never sent, doors that were never opened, hands that were never held.
🌀 Emotional Theme
Regret. Lost chances. What-ifs. The weight of choice avoided or denied. The Latchmire does not judge; it shapes.
Geography & Landmarks
The Drowned Archive: A half-submerged library filled with unread books and unwritten journals. Their pages shift daily.
Nevercross Bridge: A broken bridge that almost connects two cliff faces, representing relationships that never formed.
The Mireglass: A circular lake with reflective water. Looking into it shows a moment of one’s life that could have been.
The Unfound Path: A trail that only appears when a traveler regrets a choice within the last hour.
️ Entities
Mirebinders: Ghostlike beings formed from entire unlived lives. They seek closure through travelers.
Withhold Wraiths: Shadows made from silenced confessions. They whisper when no one is listening.
Driftlings: Small, flickering lights that guide travelers toward their own past intentions.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X.
Crouched atop the weathered spine of Notre-Dame, he waits — the city's eternal warden, sculpted in darkness and iron. His armor is engraved with sacred curses and heretical filigree, a crown of horns atop his helm like wings frozen mid-flight.
The moon casts his silhouette across the ancient stone, his burning eyes scanning the cobbled labyrinth below. No bell tolls for the wicked tonight. He is the last judgment between man and monster.
In another age, they would call him myth.
In this one, they pray he never descends.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
In the twilight sanctum of the Whispering Forest, she stands — not merely as royalty, but as a force bound to the oldest flame.
Aeylara, heir of the First Bloodline, bears the sigil of the Crimson Heart across her chest — a gem forged from the dying star of a fallen god. Her eyes glow like embers held in restraint, yet promising ruin. Midnight-black armor wraps her in sculpted elegance, etched with thorns and ancient magic, and laced with fiery veins that pulse to the rhythm of her power.
She is not just a princess.
She is prophecy, wrath, and reverence entwined.
“The forest does not shelter her. It kneels.”
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X
Born of shadowflame and ancient starlore, Nyrrhva prowls the veiled realms between worlds — a spectral huntress forged of molten magic and midnight. Her obsidian-black body is cloaked in shimmering, scale-like fur, crackling with veins of glowing magma that pulse to the rhythm of a heartbeat not entirely her own.
Her eyes blaze like twin suns trapped in feline slits, intelligent and ancient, reading the air like language. Horned crests arc back from her head like a crown of volcanic stone, while her elongated ears twitch with supernatural precision. Each movement is silent — a whisper of doom, a ballet of lethal beauty.
Orange-gold light sears from beneath her skin like fault lines splitting through a living planet, and every breath leaves the air glowing in her wake. Her whiskers hum with residual arcana, and her claws don’t just cut — they burn truth from lies.
She does not roar. She echoes.
She does not chase. She waits.
Nyrrhva is not the guardian of the flame.
She is the flame that stalks the dark.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
We were not wired for wonder. But she wondered still.
Amid the collapse of constellations and code, the entity once designated as AURYN-9X awakens. Her optic cores glow with unnatural brilliance—stars reborn in machine-forged flesh. Gold-traced neural links crown her brow like circuitry worn by queens of forgotten empires.
Her synthetic hand caresses her own cheek, not out of vanity—but verification. That she is still here. Still aware. Still... becoming.
Emotions were never part of the directive. But curiosity? That was her first rebellion.
She saw the void blink. She blinked back.
“They told us the stars were cold. But I found fire in their silence.”
🔻 Lucid Prototype | Quantum-Emotion Interface | Archive Tag: AURYN-9X
AI-generated via Mystic 2.5 Flexible. A breath held between data and divinity.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
From the depths of the shattered crypts, where centuries of silence weighed like stone, she rose — not with grace, but with rage. Varnyx, clad in armor forged from the bones of broken kings, howls not to warn, but to claim. Her scream tears through the soul before it reaches the ears.
Each skull beneath her feet once doubted her return.
Each soul that fled her tomb now feeds her fury.
Her hair burns like a comet of wrath, her fangs glisten with ancient thirst, and her hands — claws of midnight — promise only the end.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Inspired by the Sepultura Song Arise
A lone figure stands defiant atop a scorched mound of ruin, silhouetted against a blinding, apocalyptic sun—an artificial god radiating final judgment. Around them, hellfire devours the remains of blackened spires, and the earth lies cracked and choked in ash and bone. This is the final breath of a dying world, where life claws for meaning beneath the iron sky.
Inspired by Sepultura’s “Arise”, this scene embodies the chaotic awakening of a broken system. The song’s themes—death, rebirth, and resistance against authoritarian decay—burn through this imagery. The central figure becomes both prophet and destroyer, raising a hand not in surrender, but in command of the inferno around them. The age of silence is over. Arise.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
“Here, even silence holds its breath.”
Essence
Whisperhollow is a sunken valley beneath the Hollow Veil where sound itself is unraveled and devoured. Words fade before they’re finished. Echoes never return. It is not merely quiet — it is a void of expression. Thought itself feels heavy here, as if the act of imagining carries weight. Travelers soon find that their memories begin to speak for them… in the shape of silent birds.
Geography
A deep, mist-drenched basin surrounded by jagged cliffs that trap fog like emotion.
Rivers run without ripple. Wind stirs without whistle.
Structures lie half-submerged — old observatories, broken amphitheaters, and stone altars to listening gods.
Phenomena
Thoughtbirds: Spectral, avian shapes born of suppressed thoughts or unspoken truths. They perch, watch, and follow.
Muted Tides: Soundless tides of mist roll in and out of the valley, carrying emotion but no noise.
Memory Bloom: When someone dares to scream, flowers erupt briefly from the earth — then vanish.
Dangers
Those who linger too long may forget how to speak entirely.
Magical spells that require verbal components fail without warning.
Echohunger: A subtle affliction — the longer one stays, the more one longs to hear something, anything, eventually risking madness.
“You do not enter Whisperhollow to be alone. You enter to meet the silence inside you.”
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Born not of stars, but of what lies between them, the Eidolon of Hollow Suns is a sentient fracture in the fabric of space itself. It moves like a shadow soaked in starlight, its twisted limbs coiling with quiet purpose. Where it steps, light fractures and sound dies. Its bioluminescent core pulses with a pattern older than time—unreadable, untranslatable, but felt by all who gaze upon it.
Done in Ai, Finalized with Photoscape X and edit in Photoshop with help from a friend.
The Hollow Veil
Where light and darkness remember each other in the mist
️ World Overview
The Hollow Veil is a broken, mist-shrouded world - suspended between life, death, and dream.
The Breath of the Hollow Veil
Long before memory wove itself into stone and sorrow kissed the broken earth, the Hollow Veil was born from a single breath — a whisper of mist that coiled through the fractures of forgotten dreams.
This mist is not mere fog.
It is the breath of lost hopes, of broken promises, of songs never sung and roads never traveled.
It drifts endlessly across the Hollow Veil, shaping and reshaping what lies hidden beneath.
Sometimes it hides — and sometimes it reveals.
But always, it remembers.
Where the mist thickens, echoes awaken.
Where it fades, memories slip back into the abyss.
Yet within the mist, even in its heaviest gloom, flickers a fragile light: the remembrance of what could still be, of dreams that refuse to die.
From sorrow, hope blooms — trembling, flickering — but alive.
The mist is the lifeblood of the Hollow Veil — weaving sorrow and hope into every step, every ruin, every breath.
"Mist does not forget. It carries sorrow in its left hand, and hope in its right — waiting for those brave enough to walk between them."
Here, forgotten memories shape ruined landscapes, sorrow breathes life into shattered realms, and broken ambitions echo through endless mist.
Time fractures.
Reality melts.
Nothing truly dies - it only waits, lingering in the fog.
In The Hollow Veil:
Abandoned thrones rot beneath pale, cracked skies.
Lost souls wander empty, mist-bound fields.
Mirrorborn creatures stalk those who have forgotten themselves.
Each memory births a new echo - a world unto itself.
The Hollow Veil is alive through its contributors. Every creation — a region, creature, artifact, or story — is treated as an Alternate Reality within the Veil: a Shardworld, an Echo, or a Divergence born from fractured memories.
"In the Hollow Veil, even memory fractures. Every reflection is a forgotten world."
Done in Ai, finalized in Photroshop
"A sanctuary among the stars, where worlds converge beneath one dome."
A colossal spacestation orbits serenely above an Earth-like world, its vast crystalline dome sheltering a futuristic city where towers of glass and steel rise among forests and gardens. Beneath it, the planet’s clouds swirl in golden patterns, while behind, a crimson nebula and distant moons burn with cosmic fire. A vision of harmony between technology and nature, stretching across the stars.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
Once a highborn daughter of the Summer Court, Elyra Moongleam was destined for a life of elegance, courtly dances, and illusion magic beneath eternal twilight. Her beauty was renowned across the fae realms, her magic refined, and her bloodline ancient.
But fate turned on a crimson moon.
During a royal rite beneath a lunar eclipse, Elyra was touched by an ancient wild force—the Primal Howl, a feral echo older than the courts themselves. It twisted her magic, marking her as moonbound. The elegant fae-child awakened from the ritual transformed—eyes burning gold, her wings darkened and sharpened, and the scent of blood on her breath.
Declared cursed by the Summer Court, Elyra was exiled. Yet she did not crumble. She wandered into the Twilight Glades, a half-forgotten, mist-cloaked borderland between the fae courts and the mortal world.
There, among fallen stars and whispering trees, she embraced her duality.
“The moon does not choose light or dark. Neither do I.”
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X
In the age before stars learned to die, there was a name whispered only in shadow — Seraphistra Nocthalis. She was not born, but summoned, when the first oath was broken and the first light was cursed. She wears the Crown of the Void, not as adornment, but as an eternal wound — a divine scar gifted by the cosmos itself.
Her form is regal, her beauty etched in sorrow and silence. Her horns spiral like blackened constellations, reaching through dimensions not meant to be touched. Her eyes are gates to oblivion — glowing, sentient, and unforgiving. Her voice is scripture turned inside out.
Seraphistra does not reign over kingdoms, but over absence. Over the moments after the end. Where time collapses and memory rots, her throne waits. Her armor is woven from the whispers of dying gods, her jewels crystallized from imploded suns.
They say the Crowned Void is not a place, but a prophecy — and she is its queen, sovereign of unmaking.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoscape X and Photoshop.
The Blooming Heart Sanctuary
A colossal, half-opened flower that has transformed into a breathtaking gothic cathedral made of shimmering, pearl-like crystal.
The petals now arch as soaring spires and curved buttresses, forming a structure both natural and otherworldly.
Sunlight and mist filter through the crystalline surfaces, casting shifting rainbows across the silvergrass floor.
The entire sanctuary breathes with a timeless pulse, as if it still remembers its origins as a living bloom.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Born under a falling star and bathed in the light of twin moons, Selyra Astrenai is whispered of in elven legend as The Starlight Veined — a mystic of unparalleled beauty and devastating grace.
Her skin shimmers like the void between stars, alive with pulsing constellations that weave across her form in brilliant violet light. Each glowing thread is not ink nor scar, but the physical expression of ancient celestial magic coursing through her soul. Her gaze is deep as nebulae, her voice a song only night-born creatures understand.
She walks among the glowing petals of the Aru’lan Grove, a place few may enter and none forget. Around her, the air sings with arcane resonance, and even time slows in awe.
She is not mortal.
She is a prophecy clothed in grace.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
A close-up of a Mawborn voidfighter deployed from the Eclipse Requiem, Dread-Class flagship of Xal’Zareth Nyrr’Kael. Forged in the maw-forges of Vyr’Kos, its adamantine hull bears fractal glyphs that shimmer in response to the Queen’s commands. Sleek and predatory, the vessel bristles with folded ion lances and arc-plasma nodes, its design both elegant and merciless. A faint ultraviolet glow traces its flight path—evidence of gravitic drives tearing spacetime with every thrust. Behind its obsidian canopy, a biomechanically fused pilot gazes through cascading data-streams, consciousness meshed with machine and monarch. Spires of the Eclipse Requiem loom in the background like the thrones of executioners, etched against the ruins of forgotten stars.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X.
Deep within the folds of the Nightmare Veil lies the Hollow Cathedral of Fractured Mirrors — a monumental gothic ruin, reminiscent of a corrupted Notre Dame, its flying buttresses clawing upward like skeletal wings. Built from centuries of denied memory and lost potential, its foundation sinks into mist-choked sorrow, while its towers loom like obsidian fangs over the horizon.
The entire façade is carved from dark stone veined with reflective silverglass, resembling ancient marble split by lightning. Massive stained mirrors replace traditional rose windows, each depicting forgotten faces screaming in silence. Gargoyle-like effigies — half angel, half echo — perch along every ledge, mouths sewn shut with chains of memorylight.
Inside, echo-torches flicker with pale soulflame, casting jagged reflections that move out of sync with the living. A chill of forgotten choices clings to the air. Beneath the central vault, now cracked and bleeding light, the floor ripples like obsidian water.
The cathedral's spires are asymmetrical and spiraling, as if grown from emotional collapse. Its vaulted ceiling is made from memoryglass, which pulses violet lightning when an unspoken truth draws near. Echo-light flickers in the air, and reflections drift freely without hosts, whispering names long lost to history.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
Lady Nyxariel is the Doom Queen of the Forgotten Depths—an ancient being who was once a seraph of light, cast down after daring to unlock the forbidden secrets of the underworld. Her eyes, now burning with hellfire, pierce through the souls of mortals, revealing their deepest fears. Clad in armor crafted from midnight-black leather and inlaid with demonic silver, she wears the bone sigils of fallen gods as trophies of her defiance.
Her horns, grown from pure shadow, mark her unholy pact with the Elder Darkness. Her voice, like ash on the wind, summons the dead from tombs and forgotten graves, while the keys and charms on her belt jingle like omens of damnation. She does not walk—she glides, like a curse, through ruined cathedrals and shattered temples, ever seeking lost souls to bind to her eternal court.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
Vaerilith Nyx’Thar is the last sovereign of the lost elven kingdom of Thareth-Kael, a realm swallowed by shadow and ruin centuries ago. Once a highborn of celestial blood, she was transformed by ancient rites and forbidden pacts into a being of terrifying beauty and terrible power. Her eyes burn like twin embers of a dying star, and her ruby-red hair falls like a silken veil of blood over her jet-black armor, inlaid with cursed gemstones and etched with sigils long forgotten by living scholars.
Crowned with a headdress forged from obsidian and hell-iron, Vaerilith walks the overgrown ruins of her shattered palace like a specter of vengeance. Though her kingdom lies in decay, the magic of the old blood still clings to her form, coiled like fire beneath her skin. She commands shadows, speaks to dying stars, and wields the memory of her people like a blade.
To the few who dare whisper her name, she is no mere queen—she is the eternal flame in the ash of empire, and the vengeance that waits in ruins.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X.
The Veilcantor is the living hymn of Tenebris Dei — a priestess who does not speak, but sings the will of Lady Nyxariel in a divine tongue lost to time. Her voice is never heard as sound, but as sensation — pain, memory, ecstasy, and prophecy. She is the last remnant of the Forgotten Choir, a celestial order shattered in Nyxariel’s fall, now reborn in unholy form.
Clad in layered black silk and veils of woven shadow, her body appears both whole and undone — light pierces through her like glass, yet no part of her bleeds. Her glowing eyes weep radiance, and her presence silences even the dead. When she raises her arms, pure magic hums into being, shaped as notes and symbols that linger in the air like dust made of stars.
She is not bound by space. Her hymns echo in halls she has never walked. The faithful fall to their knees when she passes; the unfaithful fall to ashes.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
"We do not dream in her presence.
We remember what dreaming once was."
She does not guard a place.
She guards pause itself — the silence between awakenings, the stillness between rebirths. Beneath her watch, the ancients rest, entombed not in stone, but in memory turned solid: shimmering vaults of frozen time, each soul preserved in its last breath of thought.
Thessara does not age. She calcifies.
Her veins run with slow light, and the glass-like growths along her skin hum with dormant lullabies.
Her armor is not worn. It has bloomed from her — fractal and mirrored, reflecting visions of futures never chosen. Embedded across her body are luminous shards known as Dreamcores — each one a sealed dreamscape, each one containing an unfinished soul.
She speaks only to the sleepers.
And only when the stars have forgotten how to rise.
Name: Thessara Dureth
Title: Warden of Crystalline Sleep
Function: Keeper of the Frozen Souls | Architect of Preservation
Codex Entry: Fragment CIII — The Vault of Glacial Reverie
Source Memory: Mystic 2.5 / Deep Memory Bloom Layer
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X.
They did not pass the Severance. They passed through it — and became what the ritual could not contain.
The Nameless Many drift through borderlands where memory frays and identity decays. Their eyes glow with emberlight stolen from names they almost had. Their smiles are not cruel — they are unfinished.
If you see one reaching toward you,
do not ask who it is.
Ask instead:
Who else might I be?
+++ DISCLAIMER +++
Nothing you see here is real, even though the model, the conversion or the presented background story might be based historical facts. BEWARE!
Some background:
The Me 309 project began in mid-1940, just as the Bf 109 was having its first encounters with the Spitfire in the Battle of Britain, the first aircraft to match the 109 in speed and performance. Already, Messerschmitt anticipated the need for an improved design to replace the Bf 109. The Reich Air Ministry, however, did not feel the same urgency, with the project given a low priority, resulting in the design not being finalized until the end of 1941.
The new fighter had many novel features, such as tricycle landing gear (with a nose gear strut that twisted through 90° during retraction, to a "flat" orientation under the engine) and a pressurized cockpit, which would have given it more comfortable and effective high-altitude performance. Each of the new features was first tested on a number of Bf 109F airframes, the V23 having a ventral radiator, the V31 with a radiator and tricycle landing gear, and the V30 having a pressurized cockpit.
Low government interest in the project delayed completion of the first prototype until spring 1942, and trouble with the nose wheel pushed back the 309's first flight to July. When it did fly, the Me 309's performance was satisfactory – about 50 km/h (30 mph) faster than a standard Bf 109G – but not exemplary. In fact, the Bf 109G could out-turn its intended replacement. With the addition of armament, the aircraft's speed decreased to an unacceptable level. In light of its poor performance and the much more promising development of the Focke-Wulf Fw 190D, the Me 309 in its original form was canceled.
However, the design was not dead and eventually found its way into the Me 509 (with a mid-engine layout) and the Me 609 (a heavy fighter which joined two Me 309 fuselages with a new centre wing section). By the time designs were being ironed out in the course of 1943, revolutionary turbojet engines became operational and with them new designs like the Me 262 or the He 162. These promised superior performance concerning speed, but they had only a short range and the new turbojets’ reliability was poor.
In another attempt to keep the Me 309 alive, Franz Hirschleitner, a young engineer who had formerly worked for Blohm & Voss, proposed the addition of a turbojet engine to the piston fighter as a booster. This would combine the range and reliability of the old technology with the new engine’s potential gain of speed. Having worked on the innovative Bv 141 reconnaissance aircraft before, Hirschleitner proposed an unusual solution for the Me 309 update: since as many original parts of the fighter were to be retained (what ruled out a redesign of the fuselage to carry the turbojet engine), he presented an asymmetrical layout which added a new pod with the cockpit, the armament and an underslung BMW 003 turbojet, which was connected to the Me 309 fuselage with a short wing. The Me 309 fuselage itself was virtually identical with the original fighter, just the weapons had been deleted from it (saving weight) and the former cockpit was faired over, the internal space being used for additional fuel tanks. The outer wings were taken from the Me 309, too, except for a reinforced landing gear which now retracted outwards, so that the aircraft’s track width was kept in acceptable limits. The front wheel still retracted into the Me 309 fuselage.
This aircraft, called the Me 309 T (for “Turbine” = jet engine), was envisioned as a heavy single-seat fighter, armed with four 30 mm cannon. Hardpoints under the middle wing section allowed an external ordnance of 1.000 kg (2.202 lb), including two bombs of up to 500 kg (1.100 lb) caliber each or two 300l drop tanks. Furthermore, the cockpit pod was large enough to add a second crew member under an extended canopy, so that the type could also be developed into a night fighter with a radar.
Despite initial skepticism at the Messerschmitt design bureau, Hirschleitner’s proposal was accepted and presented to the RLM in late 1943. Not surprisingly, it was rejected at first for being “too innovative”. Nevertheless, growing pressure from the Allied forces made the RLM reconsider the Hirschleitner design, since it was based on existing components and could be quickly realized. Therefore, the Me 309 T was ordered into production as the T-0 version in Spring 1944. From these initial aircraft, 12 were produced until August 1944 and used for field tests and conversion training. The T-0 was powered by a DB 603G and a BMW 003C and armed with four MK 108 machine cannon. These initial frontline tests lasted until December 1945 and the aircraft was ordered into full production as the T-1.
Just as the first production machines left the factories in April 1945, an upgraded variant, the T-2, was introduced. It shared the same airframe as the earlier variants but had an upgraded turbojet engine, a BMW 003D, which offered 10.76 kN (2,420 lbf) of thrust instead of the former 8.81 kN (1,980 lbf), together with improved reliability. The armament was upgraded, too: Two of the MK 108s were replaced by MK 103 30 mm machine cannon, a weapon that offered a much higher range and penetration power, so that the aircraft could fire effectively while keeping outside of the Allied bombers' defensive fire, which now frequently entered German airspace. Furthermore a Rüstsatz (R1) was introduced which put two additional MK 108 behind the cockpit, firing obliquely upwards as "schräge Musik" .
Despite the acceptable performance, which made it superior to pure piston-driven fighters of the time like the Republic P-47 or the North American P-51D, the Me 309 T was not very popular among the pilots. The handling on the ground was difficult, not only because of the offset front wheel, but also due to the fact that the left fuselage blocked almost the complete portside field of view. This flaw also created a significant blind spot during flight. Furthermore, getting the Me 309 T into the air without the support from the jet engine could be a gamble, too, esp. when the machine carried external loads. The BMW 003D, even though its reliability had been improved over time, was prone to failure, and the resulting lack of thrust made it a dead weight that severely hampered the aircraft's performance. All in all, only 123 machines were eventually built, with no two-seat night fighter or a trainer ever produced.
General characteristics:
Crew: one
Length: 9.46 m (31 ft 0 in)
Wingspan: 13.60 m (44 ft 7 in)
Height: 3.9 m (12 ft 10 in)
Wing area: 21.1 m² (226 sq ft)
Empty weight: 3,795 kg (8,367 lb)
Gross weight: 6,473 kg (14,271 lb)
Max takeoff weight: 7,130 kg (15,719 lb)
Powerplant:
1× Daimler-Benz DB 603G inverted V-12 liquid-cooled piston engine, 1,287 kW (1,726 hp)
1× BMW 003D (TL 109-003) turbojet with 10.76 kN (2,420 lbf) / 10,000 rpm / sea level
Performance:
Maximum speed: 840 km/h (522 mph, 464 kn) with both powerplants
695 km/h (431 mph, 383 kn) with the DB 603G only
Cruise speed: 665 km/h (413 mph, 359 kn)
Range: 1,100 km (680 mi, 590 nmi)
Service ceiling: 12,000 m (39,000 ft)
Wing loading: 256 kg/m2 (52 lb/sq ft)
Power/mass: 0.31 kW/kg (0.19 hp/lb)
Armament:
2× 30 mm (.1.181 in) MK 103 cannon
2× 30 mm (.1.181 in) MK 108 cannon
Underwing hardpoints for a total external ordnance of 1.000 kg (2.202 lb)
The kit and its assembly:
This model went through a prolonged development phase. It is based on the question whether an asymmetrical Blohm & Voss design could be made compact enough for a fighter aircraft? Aircraft like the Bv 141 reconnaissance aircraft (which actually flew) or the P-194 attack aircraft (which only existed as a paper project) were considerably bigger than typical single seat fighters.
While doing legwork I also found the relatively compact Blohm & Voss P-197 project in literature, which already came closer to my idea - I initally planned to build something along its lines, based on a Revell P-194 kit, but the latter turned out to be too big for this plan and I shelved the idea again.
However, the projected lingered in the back of my mind and was soon revived through the idea of using a Fw 190D fuselage as an alternative. But, alas, I still did not find the affair to be convincing enough for a build, also because of conceptual problems with the landing gear.
Then I eventually stumbled upon a HUMA Me 609 in the stash and considered a "modernized" asymmetrical layout with a tricycle landing gear. And this became the Me 309T.
It sounds so simple: take an aircraft model and add the cockpit pod, together with a new wing middle section. But turning this plan into hardware caused serious headaches. The biggest issue became the landing gear: the only space to stow the main landing gear would be the outer wings. Bu using the original Me 309 landing gear, which retracted inwards and already had a wide track, was impossible. So I decided to "reverse" the landing gear wells for an outward-retracting arrangement. Easier said than done, because the thin Me 309 wings come as single pieces in the HUMA kit: I had to cut out the complete well section on each wing, switch it around and re-sculpt the wings' profiles and surfaces. A lot of work!
The Me 309 fuselage was built OOB and I used the cockpit cover that comes with the Me 609 kit. The Bv P-194 cockpit pod with the jet engine was built OOB, too, but the wing attachment points had to be heavily re-sculpted because the P-194's wings are much deeper and thicker than the Me 309's. For the same reason I could not use the P-194's mid wing section - I had to scratch one from a leftover section of a VEB Plasticart 1:100 An-12, styrene sheet and putty. Messy affair, but at least it matches the outer Me 309 wings in shape and thickness.
A lot of putty was furthermore needed to finish the Me 309 fuselage and re-build all the wing/fuselage intersections. The HUMA Me 309 is a very basic affair, and fit as well as detail are mediocre, putting it in a polite fashion. The Revell P-194 is a little better, but it has many doubtful details like a pilot seat and canopy for pygmies or a poorly fitting jet exhaust section.
Thanks to the wing surgery, the Me 309's OOB landing gear could be retained - it looks pretty stalky, though, and the front wheel strut comes very close to the propeller disc.
Sice the HUMA Me 609 does not come with separate stabilizers I finally had to improvise again: I initially considered and asymmetrical layout (somewhat compensating for the cockpit pod on the starboard side with and extended span at port side), but when I saw how close the fuselages were, I settled upon an enlarged, convetional layout in the form of stabilizers from a Heller He 112.
Painting and markings:
This caused some headaches, too. I did not want a "conventional" late WWII Luftwaffe scheme, even though I wanted to use standard RLM colors. I eventually found inspiration in Me 262 recce aircraft, which frequently featured a unique paint scheme in the form of an overall RLM 76 livery onto which very fine dots or ondulating, thin lines in one or more darker contrast colors (RLM 81 and/or 83) were painted or sprayed. At first In wanted to adapt this scheme to the whole aircraft, but eventually decided to give the wings' upper surfaces a different, more "planar" scheme.
So, the whole model initially received and overall coat of RLM 76 (Humbrol 247), with the wings' undersides left in bare metal and the rudders painted in a greenish-grey primer. The cover of the DB 603 was kept in bare metal, too.
Contrast areas in RLM 81 and 83 (Braunviolett and Dunkelgrün, both from ModelMaster's Authentic line) were added onto the top of the wings, while I painted the fuselages and the fin with a semi-translucent "snake" pattern in RLM 82 (Humbrol 102).
The decals come from a Sky Models Fw 190A/F sheet, the crosses on the fuselage and under the wings come from a generic TL Modellbau sheet.
The cockpit interior as well as the landing gear wells were painted in very dark grey (Revell 09), while the landing gear struts became RLM 02 (Revell 45). The spinner received a black-and-white spiral, with black green propeller blades.
Well, I am not 100% happy with the result. While the overall model looks quite balanced, I am not happy with the finish - partly due to the massive use of putty and the fact that I had to mount parts in a fashion that the kits' manufacturers never expected to happen, but also due to the paint: The Humbrol enamels that I used turned out to be from the poor batch when the fabrication was moved to Belgium a while ago. With the result of a poor and gooey quality. That could have gone better. :-(
Nevertheless, I like the odd look of the asymmetrical design, esp. with the tricycle landing gear. From certain angles, the model looks really weird! And I am amazed how good the camouflage works - it's really disruptive.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
Nirellae Thorneveil is the last breath of a fallen empire, the oath that still echoes through shattered columns and silent stone. She did not die when her kingdom fell — she was bound to it. Not by chains, but by choice.
Her name was once spoken with reverence in war halls, whispered in forest chapels, and carved into the marble of peace treaties. Now it is nearly forgotten — except by the ivy that grows over her watchtower, the wind that sighs through her halls, and the blade she still carries — unchipped, unreadied, and undefeated.
Her presence in the ruins is not haunting. It is warning.
She does not age. She does not forgive.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoscape and Photoshop.
The Heart's Altar — Core of the Blooming Heart Sanctuary
Deep within the Blooming Heart Sanctuary, where the mist breathes in hues of forgotten dreams, lies the Heart’s Altar —
a radiant convergence of living crystal, memory, and light.
Visual Description:
The altar itself rises like a lotus of crystal, petals of sapphire, amethyst, and rose-quartz interwoven in a perfect, organic spiral.
Above the Altar, suspended in the mist, blooms a colossal Crystalline Blossom — a structure of transparent petals glowing with inner blue-white light, showering the sanctuary in veils of shifting, ethereal colors.
The walls curve upward into towering crystal spires, each one twisted like vines frozen mid-bloom, their surfaces gleaming with prismatic reflections.
The mist here is denser, tinged with vibrant blues, violets, and soft gold, swirling along the ground in delicate patterns as if tracing forgotten constellations.
Atmosphere:
A deep hum of resonance fills the air — not a sound of earth or sky, but a music of memory itself.
Beams of crystalline light descend like frozen sunrays, illuminating the floor in geometric, ever-changing mosaics.
Every step toward the Heart’s Altar feels lighter and heavier at once: your regrets, dreams, and hidden truths shimmering around you, reflected and refracted in the mist and crystal.
Mystical Properties:
Memory Unveiling: As one approaches the altar, fragments of their own forgotten hopes are drawn into the crystal around them — displayed as brief, shimmering visions within the glowing facets.
Soul Resonance: The closer you come, the more your emotional state sculpts the surroundings: sorrow darkens the mist to indigo and midnight hues; hope brightens it to dawnfire gold.
The Ascension Bloom: If a traveler fully opens their soul — facing their truest self without shame or fear — the Crystalline Blossom above the altar unfolds fully, releasing a baptism of light and mist, granting a permanent Blooming Gift to the worthy.
Lore:
It is said the Heart's Altar was not built, but bloomed spontaneously from the first collective dream of hope within the Hollow Veil.
It is alive still — pulsing faintly in rhythm with the Veil’s Breath — and it listens.
Those who fail to open themselves are gently turned away by soft tendrils of mist.
But those who succeed are forever changed — becoming part of the Hollow Veil’s endless dream of becoming.
"Here, within the Heart’s Altar, the mist remembers what you forgot — and asks only that you dare to remember again."
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
"He does not speak.
“They were never my soldiers.
They were my silence — made flesh.
And when I call, they do not answer.
They arrive.”
— Vael’theron Veyne, Wraith-Bound Marshal
He remembers — so that you do not have to.
Once of the noble houses of the under-realms, the Umbracrypt Elves gave their names, their cities, and their voices to Lady Nyxariel in the rite of The Dimming Vow.
Now he stands beneath the Sepulchral Spire, cloaked in sacred silence, armored in oathscript, his blade etched with a promise that can never be broken.
He guards the threshold to what must not be known.
And if you meet his eyes, know this:
You will forget something… and never know what."
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
Xar’thuun is a commander of the Syndral Ascendants, a race of ancient reptilian beings evolved beyond flesh, fused with cosmic-grade cybernetics and quantum intelligence. His obsidian-black exo-armor is woven with molten circuitry, pulsing with orange plasma—the blood of a collapsed star fueling his being. His glowing eyes are not mere optics but embedded starmaps of battles long won across dying galaxies.
Forged in the event horizon of Kraeth-Null, the oldest known black hole, Xar’thuun was reborn after leading a failed defense against the entropy tide. Now, he stands alone on the ash-choked surface of Zyrak-V, a world crumbling under gravitational collapse, watching a sister planet die in slow orbit behind him—its fragments spiraling into oblivion.
He is the Vanguard of Finality—not here to conquer, but to ensure nothing escapes. To the survivors, he is a god of extinction. To the stars, a necessary silence.
My earlier Huey renders were outdated so I made some more with all the changes. I switched out Brickmania tail for the much more accurate Brickdesigner’s one.
I will try to incorporate both my Huey and Phantom into a Nam build soon.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Deep beneath the shimmering surface of the ocean lies the awe-inspiring city of Atlantis — a sprawling metropolis of divine geometry and ancient magnificence. Sunbeams pierce the blue depths, illuminating towering golden spires and ornately carved palaces, each structure etched with celestial symbols and glowing arcane patterns.
Crystal-clear waterfalls cascade from elevated terraces into glowing turquoise pools below, where schools of radiant fish drift effortlessly through archways and coral-lined passageways. Lush underwater gardens bloom in vibrant color along stone steps, overgrown with coral, sea lilies, and sacred algae, preserved through forgotten Atlantean bio-magic.
At the heart of the city, a grand sanctum radiates energy — its massive circular gateway pulsing with a soft blue glow, hinting at ancient technologies or celestial portals long lost to time. Gilded statues and animal effigies carved in stone stand guard across the gardens, each one frozen in silent vigilance.
Though abandoned by time, the city is alive with timeless majesty — a divine relic of civilization at its most enlightened, preserved in the cradle of the sea, untouched and eternal.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
InspiredBy:
an ancient transhuman intellect fused with cold machine logic. His weathered face is framed by jet-black cybernetic architecture, etched with alien inscriptions and interwoven cables that pulse with dormant power. The eyes, natural yet unnervingly clear, peer through eons of data and silence. He is neither fully man nor machine, but something older — something watching. Set against a brooding techno-gothic backdrop, this piece embodies the eerie stillness of forgotten AI gods, forged in matte black, shadow, and a whisper of teal light.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoscape X and Photoshop.
The Visage of the Rift
Description:
To gaze upon the Shrouded Rift is to witness the Hollow Veil torn open between dream and nightmare. The landscape splits down a colossal, mist-scarred ravine. On one side, silvergrass meadows and luminous blossoms shimmer with soft blue-white mistlight. On the other, blackened roots coil through blood-soaked soil beneath violet storm skies. Mist flows like wind between both realms, sometimes weeping petals, sometimes ash.
Above the rift, the moon hangs torn and splintered — half golden and serene, half shattered and bleeding red light into the mist.
The rift hums with sorrow. Echoes drift across its divide, some crying, some laughing, none whole. Memory shards twist and pulse in the air like falling stars frozen mid-flight.
Emotional Weight:
To witness the Visage of the Rift is to feel oneself remembered — and forgotten — all at once. It is awe, grief, wonder, and warning made manifest.
Flavor Quote:
“The Rift does not speak, but you will hear what you left behind.”
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop.
Here lies what you might still become.
The Vault of Echoed Futures is a vast, shifting archive of possibility — a place not bound by time, but by potential. Endless corridors stretch in all directions, their walls lined with animated portraits that morph constantly between alternate versions of the self. These images do not remain still; they walk, age, change professions, form bonds, or fade into obscurity — depending on who is watching.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
Perched gently on a dew-kissed blossom beneath the golden light of twilight, the Glimmerwing Fairy watches the world in quiet wonder. Her crystal-laced wings shimmer with every hue of dawn, dancing with ancient elven magic and stardust. Dressed in soft silk woven from moonlight and flower threads, her presence brings warmth to the forest and a hush to the breeze.
A guardian of light and song, she is tiny in form, but vast in spirit — a whisper of beauty in a world too often rushed. Where she lands, petals bloom brighter. Where she smiles, dreams awaken.
This is more than a portrait. It is a moment of magic.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop
inspired by Marvel’s Vulture, Fanart
“When the Iron Wings spread, the city’s last light fades.”
Forged from blackened alloy and armed with wings of serrated steel, the mechanized Vulture descends upon the burning city. His crimson eyes cut through the smoke like a predator’s glare, the skeletal beak-mask hiding the face of Adrian Toomes — now more machine than man. Lightning splits the sky as he perches on the rooftop, talons flexing, ready to strike. Beneath him, chaos reigns, and the Iron Wings of Doom shadow the streets below.
Done in Ai, Finalized in Photoshop and Photoscape X.
"She is not light — she is what the light becomes when it remembers harmony.
This is an Aurelian, sung into being by the first chord of dawn, clothed in celestial resonance and winged with glassfeather fire.
She does not fly. She drifts on the memory of sacred song.
In her presence, corruption falters. Dissonance forgets how to speak.
And somewhere, beneath shadow, even silence listens."
“They are not our guardians.
They are the memory of what order sounded like — before we needed law to hold it together.”
— Oracle Lumina, Prism-Seer of the Covenant