Genur.art

In the cosmic scifi hamlet at the end of all things, she sat as the last bastion of forgotten power, her throne a simple chair salvaged from a dead star. Her supermodel hair, a wild sculpture of shiny chocolate spiked into impossible angles, defied the gentle gravitational pull of the dying universe. She wore a skintight, high-collared bodysuit of liquid-black material that perfectly hugged her soft body, cinching a narrow waist before flaring over wide hips and large breasts. Her full lips were painted a stark, glossy black, a stark void against her pale skin as she watched the final embers of reality fade. With one hand, she idly traced the rim of a floating, crystalline orb, her long nails leaving faint trails of light in its fading surface.