![[poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design.](https://img.stablecog.com/insecure/1920w/aHR0cHM6Ly9iLnN0YWJsZWNvZy5jb20vZmRhMjRhNDktNGM2YS00YWIzLWJmOTItYjNiM2M3MWFlZGIzLmpwZWc.webp)
@generalpha
Prompt
[poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design.
distorted image, malformed body
7 months ago
Model
SSD-1B
Guidance Scale
7
Dimensions
1024 × 1024
![[poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design.](https://img.stablecog.com/insecure/256w/aHR0cHM6Ly9iLnN0YWJsZWNvZy5jb20vOTUyMzIyZDUtYmM5MS00YjNlLWI4YjgtMGYyODBkMGU1MTE0LmpwZWc.webp)
![[abstract art inspired by Hieronymus Bosch and František Kupka]As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its golden light across the land, a compact group of primal warriors stood silhouetted on the crest of a hill. Their figures were stark against the fiery sky, outlined by the fading glow of the setting sun. the group of primal warriors on the hilltop appeared to be guardians of a forgotten realm, keepers of ancient knowledge and wisdom.](https://img.stablecog.com/insecure/256w/aHR0cHM6Ly9iLnN0YWJsZWNvZy5jb20vYzVkMDIzYmMtZGI5Yi00MzVlLWJjOTctMzUzZjQ2ZTBlN2ZmLmpwZWc.webp)
![[poster by René Gruau] Ostara (in American Gods) Colourfully encounter in the desert](https://img.stablecog.com/insecure/256w/aHR0cHM6Ly9iLnN0YWJsZWNvZy5jb20vZmI5NjhmNTItZTE3MS00MWJlLTk4ZGUtZmI5YTYwYjRmMTcwLmpwZWc.webp)
![ConceptSheet: AD&D monster son of Kyuss with statistics [by frank frazetta]](https://img.stablecog.com/insecure/256w/aHR0cHM6Ly9iLnN0YWJsZWNvZy5jb20vZTNlOGQ5ZTYtNTUyZC00ZWQ5LWJjZTItMGEyOWM3ZDM4ZTM2LmpwZWc.webp)
![[poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design.](https://img.stablecog.com/insecure/256w/aHR0cHM6Ly9iLnN0YWJsZWNvZy5jb20vMjczNDkzNGItYzI1Yi00Zjc3LThlZjYtYjI4M2Y2ZTczNGQwLmpwZWc.webp)

![[art by Ralph Steadman] In the shadowed glade, where the moon cast an eerie glow, a figure emerged from the darkness. A demoness, with goat horns spiraling from her head, stood tall and proud. Her vestal linen dress stained with the blood of the celebration she had just made. The demoness wielded a sword, gleaming in the moonlight, a weapon of ancient power and dark intent. Her eyes, a fiery gaze that spoke of untold secrets and forbidden knowledge, surveyed the scene before her with a mix of sa](https://img.stablecog.com/insecure/256w/aHR0cHM6Ly9iLnN0YWJsZWNvZy5jb20vYmY3ZDI2MWUtNDUzNy00Mjg0LThhMjYtNjBhMGNiNDk5NTBiLmpwZWc.webp)
![[abstract art inspired by Hieronymus Bosch and František Kupka]As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its golden light across the land, a compact group of primal warriors stood silhouetted on the crest of a hill. Their figures were stark against the fiery sky, outlined by the fading glow of the setting sun. the group of primal warriors on the hilltop appeared to be guardians of a forgotten realm, keepers of ancient knowledge and wisdom.](https://img.stablecog.com/insecure/256w/aHR0cHM6Ly9iLnN0YWJsZWNvZy5jb20vMGU1YzYwMDctNzc2Ni00NmQ4LWE1MTktYTY2NzMyNzViZjA5LmpwZWc.webp)
![[poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design.](https://img.stablecog.com/insecure/256w/aHR0cHM6Ly9iLnN0YWJsZWNvZy5jb20vNmVlMDUwM2MtNzA5Zi00ODgyLTk5YTgtNGM5ZTU5Zjg2NTBmLmpwZWc.webp)
![[poster by René Gruau] It was not summoned. It was not born. It simply was—coiled beneath the skin of the world, sleeping in silence until a voice whispered it back into memory. Now it stares, unblinking, from the edge of existence. A head the size of mountains, crowned with horns like dead moons, eyes burning with starfire. Its breath coils through the air like smoke from a forgotten forge. The land around it bends in color and shape, as though reality itself were second-guessing its design.](https://img.stablecog.com/insecure/256w/aHR0cHM6Ly9iLnN0YWJsZWNvZy5jb20vMGViNzhjYmUtNWUyMS00NzNjLWJkNzEtYjAzZjMxODBmOTA1LmpwZWc.webp)

![[art by Frank Frazetta] In the shadowed glade, where the moon cast an eerie glow, a figure emerged from the darkness. A demoness, with goat horns spiraling from her head, stood tall and proud. Her vestal linen dress stained with the blood of the celebration she had just made. The demoness wielded a sword, gleaming in the moonlight, a weapon of ancient power and dark intent. Her eyes, a fiery gaze that spoke of untold secrets and forbidden knowledge, surveyed the scene before her with a mix of sa](https://img.stablecog.com/insecure/256w/aHR0cHM6Ly9iLnN0YWJsZWNvZy5jb20vM2JjNzE3NjctMjk5ZS00ODU5LWE4N2UtZGQyYmJkNTJhM2RiLmpwZWc.webp)