Placeholder: The thing moves again, emerging fully from the shadows. It is a wight—a walking corpse of immense size, its body wrapped in the tattered remains of priestly robes, gray with age and decay. The cloth flutters as it moves, revealing glimpses of bone beneath. Its head is a featureless skull with glowing blue light where the eyes should be, casting a faint azure radiance over the snow. As it drags itself forward, its joints grind audibly, the sound like stone grinding on stone. The thing moves again, emerging fully from the shadows. It is a wight—a walking corpse of immense size, its body wrapped in the tattered remains of priestly robes, gray with age and decay. The cloth flutters as it moves, revealing glimpses of bone beneath. Its head is a featureless skull with glowing blue light where the eyes should be, casting a faint azure radiance over the snow. As it drags itself forward, its joints grind audibly, the sound like stone grinding on stone.

@generalpha

Prompt

The thing moves again, emerging fully from the shadows. It is a wight—a walking corpse of immense size, its body wrapped in the tattered remains of priestly robes, gray with age and decay. The cloth flutters as it moves, revealing glimpses of bone beneath. Its head is a featureless skull with glowing blue light where the eyes should be, casting a faint azure radiance over the snow. As it drags itself forward, its joints grind audibly, the sound like stone grinding on stone.

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

6 days ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

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The thing moves again, emerging fully from the shadows. It is a wight—a walking corpse of immense size, its body wrapped in the tattered remains of priestly robes, gray with age and decay. The cloth flutters as it moves, revealing glimpses of bone beneath. Its head is a featureless skull with glowing blue light where the eyes should be, casting a faint azure radiance over the snow. As it drags itself forward, its joints grind audibly, the sound like stone grinding on stone.
Skeletor by Philippe Druillet
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The thing moves again, emerging fully from the shadows. It is a wight—a walking corpse of immense size, its body wrapped in the tattered remains of priestly robes, gray with age and decay. The cloth flutters as it moves, revealing glimpses of bone beneath. Its head is a featureless skull with glowing blue light where the eyes should be, casting a faint azure radiance over the snow. As it drags itself forward, its joints grind audibly, the sound like stone grinding on stone.
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