In a cavernous interior space, a humanoid figure sits motionless on a throne made of tangled rebar, roots, and glass. Their body is partially obscured by a veil of iridescent mist, and where skin should be, there are patches of reflective obsidian and shifting, fleshy filaments. Behind them, the walls are covered in abstract murals—half-symbolic, half-organic—that seem to writhe and pulse subtly. Shafts of cold light cut through the dim, smoky atmosphere, illuminating the contours of their semi-translucent form. The air feels heavy, filled with unseen emotion and history. This setting merges industrial ruin with metaphysical expressionism, crafting an image that is both spiritual and alien.