High-resolution image of a barley field eerily illuminated by a red moon that ha

High-resolution image of a barley field eerily illuminated by a red moon that hangs low on the horizon. Grains, altos e densos, they undulate unnaturally even without wind, as if responding to an unseen presence. No centro da cena, a Benedictine monk with traditional tonsure and a round, bulging belly that visibly stretches his black habit is standing among the plants. Her round, pale face displays a distorted expression of devotion, with eyes penetrating and dark that glow with forbidden knowledge. A thin line of cruel smile cuts across his face as he raises a chalice adorned with pagan symbols. The black liquid inside the cup seems as thick as petroleum, reflecting the red light of the moon with an unnatural glow while small bubbles burst on its surface. The traditional Benedictine habit of the monk, with his scapular and hood, is impeccably clean except for dark spots on the sleeves and bar, where the viscous liquid splashed during some previous ritual. Strategically scattered across the field in a pattern that suggests a hidden symbol, robust darkened oak barrels with oxidized iron rims are ritually positioned. Some remain sealed with black wax marked with symbols, while others are open, leaking abundantly the same black liquid that forms smoky pools, killing vegetation and making the soil bubble up where it touches. Among the barley stalks, elongated shadows move at abnormal speeds, always on the periphery of vision. Glowing red eyes flash momentarily among the plants, watching the monk with apparent hunger. Ao fundo, a Benedictine Gothic abbey rises against the night sky, its towers and classical structure now corrupted with blasphemous architectural additions. The building emits a putrid glow from the broken stained glass windows, and gargoyles that did not belong to the design They seem to accompany the original with their eyes any movement
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High-resolution image of a barley field eerily illuminated by a red moon that hangs low on the horizon. Grains, altos e densos, they undulate unnaturally even without wind, as if responding to an unseen presence. No centro da cena, a Benedictine monk with traditional tonsure and a round, bulging belly that visibly stretches his black habit is standing among the plants. Her round, pale face displays a distorted expression of devotion, with eyes penetrating and dark that glow with forbidden knowledge. A thin line of cruel smile cuts across his face as he raises a chalice adorned with pagan symbols. The black liquid inside the cup seems as thick as petroleum, reflecting the red light of the moon with an unnatural glow while small bubbles burst on its surface. The traditional Benedictine habit of the monk, with his scapular and hood, is impeccably clean except for dark spots on the sleeves and bar, where the viscous liquid splashed during some previous ritual. Strategically scattered across the field in a pattern that suggests a hidden symbol, robust darkened oak barrels with oxidized iron rims are ritually positioned. Some remain sealed with black wax marked with symbols, while others are open, leaking abundantly the same black liquid that forms smoky pools, killing vegetation and making the soil bubble up where it touches. Among the barley stalks, elongated shadows move at abnormal speeds, always on the periphery of vision. Glowing red eyes flash momentarily among the plants, watching the monk with apparent hunger. Ao fundo, a Benedictine Gothic abbey rises against the night sky, its towers and classical structure now corrupted with blasphemous architectural additions. The building emits a putrid glow from the broken stained glass windows, and gargoyles that did not belong to the design They seem to accompany the original with their eyes any movement
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