(masterpiece), best quality, expressive eyes, perfect face The gauntlet lies half-submerged in the shallow pond, its once-proud contours dulled by time and corrosion. Crafted from interlocking plates of dark steel, the design is unmistakably ornate—filigree patterns etched along the knuckles and wrist, now barely visible beneath a crust of rust and mineral buildup. The fingers are curled slightly inward, as if grasping at something long lost. The pond’s reddish liquid—tinged with iron and organic decay—has eaten away at the metal, leaving jagged edges and pitted surfaces. Where the gauntlet once gleamed, it now wears a mottled patina of coppery reds, sickly oranges, and deep brown scars. Tiny bubbles rise from beneath it, hinting at slow chemical reactions still at work. Around the gauntlet, reeds sway gently, and a faint shimmer of oil floats on the water’s surface, casting distorted reflections. It looks less like a piece of armor now and more like a relic—an artifact of forgotten conflict, surrendered to nature’s quiet reclamation.