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Prompt
A masked swordsman, his katana dripping with liquid shadow, stands atop a crumbling bridge, the wind howling through the gaps in the stone. His black cloak, lined with runes of forgotten gods, flutters as he tilts his head slightly, his golden eyes unreadable. The space around him distorts, reality bending at the edges as if the world itself fears what he’s about to do. ,aidmabaldursgate3, aidmamj6.1,
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CFG Scale3.5
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Seed1993432912
Steps35
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