He could rule the world, but he's an autistic prince. His crown is a tangle of t
He could rule the world, but he's an autistic prince. His crown is a tangle of thorns and black roses digging into his pale skin. His palace is a ruin hovering over an abyss where shadows whisper forgotten prophecies. He sits on a throne of broken mirrors reflecting thousands of distorted versions of his soul. His eyes are bottomless wells, flickering with a strange light, in which the gazes of the ghost courtiers drown. There is chaos all around: books with bloody pages are circling in the air, the clock is striking thirteen, and dead butterflies are hanging from the ceiling, their wings moving in an invisible wind. His hands, thin and pale, are clutching the world map, but it is leaking ink, turning into a web of cracks. Behind him is the shadow of a giant creature with hundreds of eyes, his true "adviser," whose tentacles wrap around the pillars of the hall. There's a mosaic of bones on the floor, forming patterns that only he understands.Style: Romantic Gothic horror — velvet and lace mixed with rot and madness. Dramatic shadows, blood-red accents, the cold glow of moonlight filtering through the broken stained glass windows. The details: every drop of ink, every petal of a faded rose, every scar on his hands. Chaos should be beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
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He could rule the world, but he's an autistic prince. His crown is a tangle of thorns and black roses digging into his pale skin. His palace is a ruin hovering over an abyss where shadows whisper forgotten prophecies. He sits on a throne of broken mirrors reflecting thousands of distorted versions of his soul. His eyes are bottomless wells, flickering with a strange light, in which the gazes of the ghost courtiers drown. There is chaos all around: books with bloody pages are circling in the air, the clock is striking thirteen, and dead butterflies are hanging from the ceiling, their wings moving in an invisible wind. His hands, thin and pale, are clutching the world map, but it is leaking ink, turning into a web of cracks.
Behind him is the shadow of a giant creature with hundreds of eyes, his true "adviser," whose tentacles wrap around the pillars of the hall. There's a mosaic of bones on the floor, forming patterns that only he understands.Style: Romantic Gothic horror — velvet and lace mixed with rot and madness. Dramatic shadows, blood-red accents, the cold glow of moonlight filtering through the broken stained glass windows. The details: every drop of ink, every petal of a faded rose, every scar on his hands. Chaos should be beautiful and terrifying at the same time.
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