Placeholder: The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began

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@generalpha

Prompt

The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began

11 months ago

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Model

SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

7

Dimensions

1024 × 1024

Similar

The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began
Behind, the plates and pins bear witness like the trees of older groves. But you pay them no more mind than the motors' hums and grunts, eyes only for the vision in your thrall. And me, pressed flat against the mirrored wall with lens a-flutter - sure I'll leave an outlined ghost upon the fogged glass if I don't find release soon! Each calculated step brings your heat skating nearer, bare soles padding o'er rubber worn smooth by countless trials. The tile's your stage, this steam your shroud, an
it is not there
Darkness fell as they entered the looming marshes. Mist curled around twisted trees like spectral fingers. Alex shivered, every cracked branch an impending threat. A piercing cry shattered the eerie quiet. They raced toward the sound, emerging in a small clearing. There, suspended above a foggy pool, hung Mikołaj - tiny fists beating futilely against thin air. Below, hulking Spas clawed his way from the water, face twisted in hunger. But Alex saw only her prey: the demon who tormented her mother
Through the thick woods you stride, their splendor profound, Senses awash with grandeur, emotions tightly wound. Leaving home and loved ones, a painful farewell, But vengeance ignites within, a tale to tell. Determined you stand, seeking justice for your guide, Embarking on a journey where fate will decide. Thrills course through your veins, uncertainty in the air, A mix of emotions, a blend beyond compare.
Gladesong Under rising sun's largesse the wood awakens around us, shadows dancing back beneath each bole and fronded veil. From loamy breaths steams sweet incense as droplets riding bark and branch, signaling creatures great and small rousing their voices clear and piping to the rapturous hymn weaving all in emerald glory.
[The Demon Project 048: from Pan's Labyrinth (2006)] a scene where sinister demons roam a dark, otherworldly landscape, their twisted forms blending seamlessly with the eerie environment. The demons, born from the depths of imagination and brought to life through digital artistry, exude a malevolent energy that sends shivers down your spine. The intricate details and haunting atmosphere evoke a sense of dread and fascination, drawing you into a realm where the boundary between reality and nightm
Darkness fell as they entered the looming marshes. Mist curled around twisted trees like spectral fingers. Alex shivered, every cracked branch an impending threat. A piercing cry shattered the eerie quiet. They raced toward the sound, emerging in a small clearing. There, suspended above a foggy pool, hung Mikołaj - tiny fists beating futilely against thin air. Below, hulking Spas clawed his way from the water, face twisted in hunger. But Alex saw only her prey: the demon who tormented her mother
streetlight effect, It's dark everywhere except for one spot where there's a bright streetlight. The streetlight helps you see things clearly and find your friends easily in that small area.
Darkness fell as they entered the looming marshes. Mist curled around twisted trees like spectral fingers. Alex shivered, every cracked branch an impending threat. A piercing cry shattered the eerie quiet. They raced toward the sound, emerging in a small clearing. There, suspended above a foggy pool, hung Mikołaj - tiny fists beating futilely against thin air. Below, hulking Spas clawed his way from the water, face twisted in hunger. But Alex saw only her prey: the demon who tormented her mother
As you walk deeper into the forest, the sunlight filters through the canopy of leaves above, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. The air is cool and crisp, filled with the scent of pine needles and damp earth. You feel a sense of peace wash over you, a feeling of belonging in this natural world. You pause for a moment, taking in your surroundings. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds chirping and insects buzzing. The trunks of the trees are covered in a soft layer of moss, and
Behind, the plates and pins bear witness like the trees of older groves. But you pay them no more mind than the motors' hums and grunts, eyes only for the vision in your thrall. And me, pressed flat against the mirrored wall with lens a-flutter - sure I'll leave an outlined ghost upon the fogged glass if I don't find release soon! Each calculated step brings your heat skating nearer, bare soles padding o'er rubber worn smooth by countless trials. The tile's your stage, this steam your shroud, an
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