[illustration by H P Lovercraft] The ancient artifact, known as the Heart of Shadows, is rumored to have originated from a forgotten civilization that once thrived beneath Istanbul. Crafted by mystics who sought to harness the city's powerful ley lines, the Heart is said to contain the essence of lost souls and the wisdom of ages long past. It was hidden away millennia ago, buried deep within the city's underbelly to protect it from those who would exploit its immense power.

distorted image, malformed body, malformed fingers

3 months ago

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SSD-1B

Guidance Scale

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1248 × 832

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$Despite few-symbol definition 𝐙 ↦ 𝐙²+𝐂 no finite computation exhausts an infinite fractal. Any algorithm gives only approximations. When facing infinitely intricate, infinitely explorable universes, the power of mathematical abstraction is to encode infinite in finite symbolic form.$

DMT-style visuals dance before my eyes, the colors vibrant and intense. The dimensions flicker and morph, revealing glimpses of hidden truths and cosmic secrets. Everything becomes interconnected, a grand tapestry woven by the fabric of existence itself. But amidst the awe-inspiring beauty, there is a sense of unease. The protagonist begins to question his own sanity as he loses himself in the ever-shifting mazes of the multiverse. Reality bends and warps, twisting his perceptions and challengin

$[fractal art: Mandelbulb 3d] ConceptSheet: A document showing a super powerful demonic espadon dual handed sword of incomprehensible power.$

[illustration by Grzegorz Rosiński] Ahead, an archway of fused bone and skulls frames an ancient iron door etched with strange, angular sigils. The air smells of old blood and something… burnt.

[art by Slipknot] In the ethereal stillness of the celestial realm, Metatron, the chief of winged angels, descended. His radiant wings shimmered like starlight, casting a celestial glow across the heavens. Suddenly, a tremor rippled through creation. God struck the three hundred and ninety heavens, and they quaked in reverent awe. From His eyes, tears flowed—hot as molten fire—cascading down like fiery rain into the vast ocean below. The waters stirred, roiling with sorrow as waves ignited in a

If mighty angels fair and tall, Each robed as priestly seneschal, On altar-suns burn incense daily, As wheel the systems to Love's sweet call, Earth's sun is sure an altar-rose, Abloom from dawn to day's bright close. The mighty angel stoops above it With pulsing wings, as it golden glows, To fan the incense-waves through space. When buds the light or folds its grace, He lifts erect his glorious stature, Kindling the sky from his ruddy face.

Behold the visions you have seen. That which you have viewed. That which you now view. “Complex, isn’t it?” Viewing that which was, ye have seen the age of science and logic. They ruled them you know… Yes, ruled… Those bible-thumpers were put to rest, don’t ya know. And… From rubble and slime and filth… Science but… an Arcadian civilisation!!! Yes, yes… eh… They had a hand in you, too, laddie… Yes, they did! And wot do ye think happened? I’ll tell ye wot buddy ‘appened! For a millenium, science

There it hung—silent, suspended in that pressurized vault of glass and carbon, coiled like a secret. They called it the Choral Maw, though none had heard it sing. A perfect circle of biological symmetry, surrounded by layers of pale petal-like flesh and polished ceramic scales, its inner folds revealed a haunting precision, as if carved for a purpose long forgotten. Some claimed it was an organ from a god-machine, others whispered of an ancient race that used resonance as language and faith.

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[Ultra Fractal art] Deux heures moins le quart avant Jésus-Christ, by Jean Yanne

It was a love not meant for human understanding, a connection forged between mind and machine, bound by the mysterious hand of God, the Creator of all things—seen and unseen.