a towering figure emerges from the shadows at the convention, its godly presence commanding attention. the 35 year old goddess stands atop a dais of black stone, its piercing gray eyes glowing like lanterns in the dark. the air is heavy with the scent of smoke and ozone as thunder rumbles outside, echoing the turmoil within. a tattered cloak billows behind it, embroidered with ancient runes that seem to writhe and twist like living serpents. the goddess's face is a mask of unyielding fury, its features chiseled from granite and adorned with horns that curve like scimitars. at its feet lies a altar of black marble, upon which rest three gleaming obsidian orbs that seem to pulse with an otherworldly energy. as the convention attendees watch in awed terror, the goddess's gaze falls upon them, as if sizing them up for some unknown purpose. the atmosphere is heavy with foreboding, the very fabric of reality seeming to warp and distort around this divine presence., <lora:sdxl_lightning_8step_lora.safetensors:0.6>
Parameters used to generate this content
, low-res, long body, poorly drawn hands, mutilated, poorly drawn face, weird colors, blurry, over saturation, floating limbs
AI models used to generate this content