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CHAPTER 1 — Fading Applause Part One: The Glory Days The circus tent blazed with light. Cinder soared through the air, her body spinning in a perfect triple flip. Flames traced golden arcs behind her as she juggled the burning pins—one, two, three—never missing a beat. Her dog ears flattened against her skull from the speed, then perked up triumphantly as her feet hit the platform. The crowd roared. "AGAIN! AGAIN!" A little girl in the front row bounced in her seat, tugging her mother’s sleeve. "Mommy, she’s flying!" Cinder’s tail swayed as she bowed low, bells on her jester costume jingling. This—this—was what she lived for. The applause washing over her like warm rain. The gasps when she pulled off something impossible. The way children’s eyes went wide with wonder. She caught three more flaming pins mid-air, spun them into a cascade of fire, and landed in a split. The audience leaped to their feet. Her smile was real. Bright. Uncracked. The Ringmaster stood in the shadows beyond the spotlight, arms crossed, nodding with satisfaction. "Good work, mutt," he’d say later. Not kind, but approving.
i need this in color CHAPTER 1 — Fading Applause Part One: The Glory Days The circus tent blazed with light. Cinder soared through the air, her body spinning in a perfect triple flip. Flames traced golden arcs behind her as she juggled the burning pins—one, two, three—never missing a beat. Her dog ears flattened against her skull from the speed, then perked up triumphantly as her feet hit the platform. The crowd roared. "AGAIN! AGAIN!" A little girl in the front row bounced in her seat, tugging her mother’s sleeve. "Mommy, she’s flying!" Cinder’s tail swayed as she bowed low, bells on her jester costume jingling. This—this—was what she lived for. The applause washing over her like warm rain. The gasps when she pulled off something impossible. The way children’s eyes went wide with wonder. She caught three more flaming pins mid-air, spun them into a cascade of fire, and landed in a split. The audience leaped to their feet. Her smile was real. Bright. Uncracked. The Ringmaster stood in the shadows beyond the spotlight, arms crossed, nodding with satisfaction. "Good work, mutt," he’d say later. Not kind, but approving.
i need this in color CHAPTER 1 — Fading Applause Part One: The Glory Days The circus tent blazed with light. Cinder soared through the air, her body spinning in a perfect triple flip. Flames traced golden arcs behind her as she juggled the burning pins—one, two, three—never missing a beat. Her dog ears flattened against her skull from the speed, then perked up triumphantly as her feet hit the platform. The crowd roared. "AGAIN! AGAIN!" A little girl in the front row bounced in her seat, tugging her mother’s sleeve. "Mommy, she’s flying!" Cinder’s tail swayed as she bowed low, bells on her jester costume jingling. This—this—was what she lived for. The applause washing over her like warm rain. The gasps when she pulled off something impossible. The way children’s eyes went wide with wonder. She caught three more flaming pins mid-air, spun them into a cascade of fire, and landed in a split. The audience leaped to their feet. Her smile was real. Bright. Uncracked. The Ringmaster stood in the shadows beyond the spotlight, arms crossed, nodding with satisfaction. "Good work, mutt," he’d say later. Not kind, but approving.
i need this in color CHAPTER 1 — Fading Applause Part One: The Glory Days The circus tent blazed with light. Cinder soared through the air, her body spinning in a perfect triple flip. Flames traced golden arcs behind her as she juggled the burning pins—one, two, three—never missing a beat. Her dog ears flattened against her skull from the speed, then perked up triumphantly as her feet hit the platform. The crowd roared. "AGAIN! AGAIN!" A little girl in the front row bounced in her seat, tugging her mother’s sleeve. "Mommy, she’s flying!" Cinder’s tail swayed as she bowed low, bells on her jester costume jingling. This—this—was what she lived for. The applause washing over her like warm rain. The gasps when she pulled off something impossible. The way children’s eyes went wide with wonder. She caught three more flaming pins mid-air, spun them into a cascade of fire, and landed in a split. The audience leaped to their feet. Her smile was real. Bright. Uncracked. The Ringmaster stood in the shadows beyond the spotlight, arms crossed, nodding with satisfaction. "Good work, mutt," he’d say later. Not kind, but approving.
this needs to be in color CHAPTER 1 — Fading Applause Part One: The Glory Days The circus tent blazed with light. Cinder soared through the air, her body spinning in a perfect triple flip. Flames traced golden arcs behind her as she juggled the burning pins—one, two, three—never missing a beat. Her dog ears flattened against her skull from the speed, then perked up triumphantly as her feet hit the platform. The crowd roared. "AGAIN! AGAIN!" A little girl in the front row bounced in her seat, tugging her mother’s sleeve. "Mommy, she’s flying!" Cinder’s tail swayed as she bowed low, bells on her jester costume jingling. This—this—was what she lived for. The applause washing over her like warm rain. The gasps when she pulled off something impossible. The way children’s eyes went wide with wonder. She caught three more flaming pins mid-air, spun them into a cascade of fire, and landed in a split. The audience leaped to their feet. Her smile was real. Bright. Uncracked. The Ringmaster stood in the shadows beyond the spotlight, arms crossed, nodding with satisfaction. "Good work, mutt," he’d say later. Not kind, but approving. That was enough.
Create a visually striking, modern poster illustrating the biblical story of Jonah and the great fish in a bold, cinematic style. The composition should focus on Jonah in the ocean during a storm, with massive waves crashing around him and dark clouds filling the sky. Include dramatic lighting with strong contrast between light and shadow, preferably in a black-and-white or monochrome style for a modern aesthetic. Show Jonah as a small, vulnerable figure in the water, looking overwhelmed but expressive, capturing fear, regret, and reflection. Behind or beneath him, include the giant fish emerging from the depths, large and powerful, but not overly frightening—more symbolic and awe-inspiring. Use motion in the water and dynamic angles to create energy and intensity. Add subtle symbolism, such as light breaking through the clouds or shining underwater, representing God’s presence and hope. Include a secondary scene or faded overlay of Jonah praying inside the fish, with a calm and peaceful mood contrasting the storm. The background should transition from chaos (storm) to calm (light or horizon), symbolizing transformation and redemption. Use clean, modern typography for a title such as “Jonah and the Great Fish” or a short quote like “A Story of Obedience and Second Chances.” Keep the layout balanced, with the main focus centered and text placed clearly without clutter. The overall tone should feel powerful, emotional, and meaningful.
The Decline Three months later. The tent was half-empty. Cinder flipped through the air, landed perfectly, juggled the flaming pins with the same precision—but the applause was thin. Scattered. A few polite claps from the families who’d bothered to show up. She forced her smile wider. Bowed deeper. Added an extra spin. Nothing. The little girl who used to sit in the front row wasn’t there anymore. After the show, Cinder stood alone in the center ring, staring at the empty seats. Dust motes floated through the fading spotlight. The silence pressed against her ears. "Pathetic." She turned. The Ringmaster stood at the edge of the ring, face shadowed, arms crossed. "Sir, I—" "The crowds are leaving because of you." His voice was cold. Sharp. "You’re stale. Boring. A one-trick pony—or should I say, one-trick mutt." Her tail tucked instinctively. "I can learn new tricks. I’ll practice harder—" "I’ve already made arrangements." He turned away. "There’s a new act coming. Someone with real talent." The words hit like a punch to the gut. "You’re replaceable, Cinder. Don’t forget that." He walked away, boots echoing on the wooden floor. Cinder stood frozen, flames still flickering on the pins in her hands. Slowly, she let them drop. They clattered to the ground, extinguished. Weeks passed.
i need this in color CHAPTER 1 — Fading Applause Part One: The Glory Days The circus tent blazed with light. Cinder soared through the air, her body spinning in a perfect triple flip. Flames traced golden arcs behind her as she juggled the burning pins—one, two, three—never missing a beat. Her dog ears flattened against her skull from the speed, then perked up triumphantly as her feet hit the platform. The crowd roared. "AGAIN! AGAIN!" A little girl in the front row bounced in her seat, tugging her mother’s sleeve. "Mommy, she’s flying!" Cinder’s tail swayed as she bowed low, bells on her jester costume jingling. This—this—was what she lived for. The applause washing over her like warm rain. The gasps when she pulled off something impossible. The way children’s eyes went wide with wonder. She caught three more flaming pins mid-air, spun them into a cascade of fire, and landed in a split. The audience leaped to their feet. Her smile was real. Bright. Uncracked. The Ringmaster stood in the shadows beyond the spotlight, arms crossed, nodding with satisfaction. "Good work, mutt," he’d say later. Not kind, but approving.
it needs to be in color Part Two: The Decline Three months later. The tent was half-empty. Cinder flipped through the air, landed perfectly, juggled the flaming pins with the same precision—but the applause was thin. Scattered. A few polite claps from the families who’d bothered to show up. She forced her smile wider. Bowed deeper. Added an extra spin. Nothing. The little girl who used to sit in the front row wasn’t there anymore. After the show, Cinder stood alone in the center ring, staring at the empty seats. Dust motes floated through the fading spotlight. The silence pressed against her ears. "Pathetic." She turned. The Ringmaster stood at the edge of the ring, face shadowed, arms crossed. cinder said "Sir, I—" "The crowds are leaving because of you." the ring master said His voice was cold. Sharp. "You’re stale. Boring. A one-trick pony—or should I say, one-trick mutt." Her tail tucked instinctively. "I can learn new tricks. I’ll practice harder—" "I’ve already made arrangements." He turned away. "There’s a new act coming. Someone with real talent." The words hit like a punch to the gut. "You’re replaceable, Cinder. Don’t forget that." He walked away, boots echoing on the wooden floor. Cinder stood frozen, flames still flickering on the pins in her hands. Slowly, she let them drop. They clattered to the ground, extinguished. Weeks passed.
Part Two: The Decline Three months later. The tent was half-empty. Cinder flipped through the air, landed perfectly, juggled the flaming pins with the same precision—but the applause was thin. Scattered. A few polite claps from the families who’d bothered to show up. She forced her smile wider. Bowed deeper. Added an extra spin. Nothing. The little girl who used to sit in the front row wasn’t there anymore. After the show, Cinder stood alone in the center ring, staring at the empty seats. Dust motes floated through the fading spotlight. The silence pressed against her ears. "Pathetic." She turned. The Ringmaster stood at the edge of the ring, face shadowed, arms crossed. "Sir, I—" "The crowds are leaving because of you." His voice was cold. Sharp. "You’re stale. Boring. A one-trick pony—or should I say, one-trick mutt." Her tail tucked instinctively. "I can learn new tricks. I’ll practice harder—" "I’ve already made arrangements." He turned away. "There’s a new act coming. Someone with real talent." The words hit like a punch to the gut. "You’re replaceable, Cinder. Don’t forget that." He walked away, boots echoing on the wooden floor. Cinder stood frozen, flames still flickering on the pins in her hands. Slowly, she let them drop. They clattered to the ground, extinguished. Weeks passed.
it needs to be in color Part Two: The Decline Three months later. The tent was half-empty. Cinder flipped through the air, landed perfectly, juggled the flaming pins with the same precision—but the applause was thin. Scattered. A few polite claps from the families who’d bothered to show up. She forced her smile wider. Bowed deeper. Added an extra spin. Nothing. The little girl who used to sit in the front row wasn’t there anymore. After the show, Cinder stood alone in the center ring, staring at the empty seats. Dust motes floated through the fading spotlight. The silence pressed against her ears. "Pathetic." She turned. The Ringmaster stood at the edge of the ring, face shadowed, arms crossed. "Sir, I—" "The crowds are leaving because of you." His voice was cold. Sharp. "You’re stale. Boring. A one-trick pony—or should I say, one-trick mutt." Her tail tucked instinctively. "I can learn new tricks. I’ll practice harder—" "I’ve already made arrangements." He turned away. "There’s a new act coming. Someone with real talent." The words hit like a punch to the gut. "You’re replaceable, Cinder. Don’t forget that." He walked away, boots echoing on the wooden floor. Cinder stood frozen, flames still flickering on the pins in her hands. Slowly, she let them drop. They clattered to the ground, extinguished. Weeks passed.
The Decline Three months later. The tent was half-empty. Cinder flipped through the air, landed perfectly, juggled the flaming pins with the same precision—but the applause was thin. Scattered. A few polite claps from the families who’d bothered to show up. She forced her smile wider. Bowed deeper. Added an extra spin. Nothing. The little girl who used to sit in the front row wasn’t there anymore. After the show, Cinder stood alone in the center ring, staring at the empty seats. Dust motes floated through the fading spotlight. The silence pressed against her ears. "Pathetic." She turned. The Ringmaster stood at the edge of the ring, face shadowed, arms crossed. "Sir, I—" "The crowds are leaving because of you." His voice was cold. Sharp. "You’re stale. Boring. A one-trick pony—or should I say, one-trick mutt." Her tail tucked instinctively. "I can learn new tricks. I’ll practice harder—" "I’ve already made arrangements." He turned away. "There’s a new act coming. Someone with real talent." The words hit like a punch to the gut. "You’re replaceable, Cinder. Don’t forget that." He walked away, boots echoing on the wooden floor. Cinder stood frozen, flames still flickering on the pins in her hands. Slowly, she let them drop. They clattered to the ground, extinguished. Weeks passed.
it needs to be in color Part Two: The Decline Three months later. The tent was half-empty. Cinder flipped through the air, landed perfectly, juggled the flaming pins with the same precision—but the applause was thin. Scattered. A few polite claps from the families who’d bothered to show up. She forced her smile wider. Bowed deeper. Added an extra spin. Nothing. The little girl who used to sit in the front row wasn’t there anymore. After the show, Cinder stood alone in the center ring, staring at the empty seats. Dust motes floated through the fading spotlight. The silence pressed against her ears. "Pathetic." She turned. The Ringmaster stood at the edge of the ring, face shadowed, arms crossed. "Sir, I—" "The crowds are leaving because of you." the ring master said His voice was cold. Sharp. "You’re stale. Boring. A one-trick pony—or should I say, one-trick mutt." Her tail tucked instinctively. "I can learn new tricks. I’ll practice harder—" "I’ve already made arrangements." He turned away. "There’s a new act coming. Someone with real talent." The words hit like a punch to the gut. "You’re replaceable, Cinder. Don’t forget that." He walked away, boots echoing on the wooden floor. Cinder stood frozen, flames still flickering on the pins in her hands. Slowly, she let them drop. They clattered to the ground, extinguished. Weeks passed.
Fading Applause Part One: The Glory Days The circus tent blazed with light. Cinder soared through the air, her body spinning in a perfect triple flip. Flames traced golden arcs behind her as she juggled the burning pins—one, two, three—never missing a beat. Her dog ears flattened against her skull from the speed, then perked up triumphantly as her feet hit the platform. The crowd roared. "AGAIN! AGAIN!" A little girl in the front row bounced in her seat, tugging her mother’s sleeve. "Mommy, she’s flying!" Cinder’s tail swayed as she bowed low, bells on her jester costume jingling. This—this—was what she lived for. The applause washing over her like warm rain. The gasps when she pulled off something impossible. The way children’s eyes went wide with wonder. She caught three more flaming pins mid-air, spun them into a cascade of fire, and landed in a split. The audience leaped to their feet. Her smile was real. Bright. Uncracked. The Ringmaster stood in the shadows beyond the spotlight, arms crossed, nodding with satisfaction. "Good work, mutt," he’d say later. Not kind, but approving. That was enough. After the show, Cinder walked through the circus grounds, still buzzing with adrenaline. Performers clapped her shoulder. Vendors offered her candied apples. The strongman lifted her onto his shoulders for a victory lap. She belonged here.
Fading Applause Part One: The Glory Days The circus tent blazed with light. Cinder soared through the air, her body spinning in a perfect triple flip. Flames traced golden arcs behind her as she juggled the burning pins—one, two, three—never missing a beat. Her dog ears flattened against her skull from the speed, then perked up triumphantly as her feet hit the platform. The crowd roared. "AGAIN! AGAIN!" A little girl in the front row bounced in her seat, tugging her mother’s sleeve. "Mommy, she’s flying!" Cinder’s tail swayed as she bowed low, bells on her jester costume jingling. This—this—was what she lived for. The applause washing over her like warm rain. The gasps when she pulled off something impossible. The way children’s eyes went wide with wonder. She caught three more flaming pins mid-air, spun them into a cascade of fire, and landed in a split. The audience leaped to their feet. Her smile was real. Bright. Uncracked. The Ringmaster stood in the shadows beyond the spotlight, arms crossed, nodding with satisfaction. "Good work, mutt," he’d say later. Not kind, but approving. That was enough. After the show, Cinder walked through the circus grounds, still buzzing with adrenaline. Performers clapped her shoulder. Vendors offered her candied apples. The strongman lifted her onto his shoulders for a victory lap. She belonged here.
📘 Estructura de 12 Paneles: "El Auto que quería Cariño" Panel 1: El Escenario Visual: Un galpón rural polvoriento. Al fondo, un auto viejo cubierto de una capa de polvo blanca (como harina). El Ogre Bueni entra con una linterna. Diálogo (Ogre): —Che auto… ¿hoy querés arrancar? Prompt Manga: Wide shot, dusty barn interior. An old, boxy classic car covered in thick white dust. Friendly ogre entering. Manga linework, screentones. Panel 2: El Rechazo Visual: Primer plano del faro del auto que parece un ojo soñoliento. Una burbuja de texto sale del motor. Diálogo (Auto): —No… ay, no… déjenme dormir… Prompt Manga: Close-up of the car's headlight looking like a sleepy eye. Text bubble coming from the engine. Grumpy expression. Panel 3: El Sapo Churro Visual: Sapo Aldo toca el auto con un dedo y se llena de polvo. Está blanco de pies a cabeza. El Ogre y la Vaca Bueni miran asombrados. Diálogo (Aldo): —¡Ay, parezco un churro! ¡Ja, ja! Prompt Manga: Small toad named Aldo covered in white dust. He looks like a "churro" (powdered snack). Comedy manga style, speed lines. Panel 4: El Gato Salvador Visual: Un gato entra con una aspiradora vieja y ruidosa que rebota por el suelo (Boom, boom). Diálogo (Gato): —¡Acá vengo a salvar el día! Prompt Manga: Smug cat dragging a retro vacuum cleaner. Tail held high. Dynamic perspective. SFX: BOOM BOOM. Panel 5: El Caos de la Limpieza Visual: La aspiradora encendida a máxima potencia (FIIIUUU). El gato sale volando hacia atrás por la succión, con los pelos de punta. Diálogo (Gato): —¡Me dejó el pelo como nube! Prompt Manga: Action panel. Vacuum sucking air violently. Cat flying backwards with static, puffy fur. High energy, chaotic manga effect. Panel 6: El Gran Esfuerzo Visual: Todos empujan el auto. La Vaca con la nariz, los sapos por atrás, el Ogre de un costado. El auto está plantado y hace sonar la bocina molesto. Diálogo (Vaca): —Está haciendo capricho. Prompt Manga: Group effort. Ogre, cow, and toads straining to push the car. Sweat drops. SFX: HONK! (Bocina). Panel 7: La Sabiduría del Pato Visual: El Pato Bueni llega caminando tranquilo con aire de profesor mientras el Sapo Pepe se ríe en el suelo. Diálogo (Pato): —¿Probaste preguntarle qué quiere? Prompt Manga: Duck with a small bowtie looking wise. Sapo Pepe laughing in the background. Calm vs Chaos. Panel 8: El Secreto Revelado Visual: El Ogre se agacha frente al paragolpes, escuchando con atención. El auto susurra. Diálogo (Auto): —Yo quiero que me laven… Prompt Manga: Emotional panel. Ogre leaning close to the car's grill. Tiny, shaky text bubble. Sweet moment. Panel 9: El Spa del Campo Visual: Montaje de limpieza. La Vaca tira agua, los sapos frotan las ruedas y el gato limpia los vidrios mientras canta. Prompt Manga: Montage panel. Multiple small scenes of the animals scrubbing and washing the car. Bubbles and sparkles everywhere. Panel 10: ¡Como Nuevo! Visual: El auto brilla intensamente. Los personajes se tapan los ojos por el reflejo del sol en la carrocería. Diálogo (Gato): —¡Epa! ¡Parece un auto último modelo! Prompt Manga: The car is sparkling white/silver. Intense light glints (shoujo manga sparkles). Characters looking impressed. Panel 11: ¡Arranca! Visual: El Ogre gira la llave. Humo feliz sale del escape y el motor ruge con fuerza. Los sapos saltan del susto. Diálogo (Sapos): —¡Ah! ¡Nos asustó! Prompt Manga: Dynamic engine start. "VROOM" SFX in big letters. Toads jumping in mid-air from surprise. Panel 12: Final Feliz Visual: El auto manejando solito llevando las cajas, todos los animales saludando y riendo. Diálogo (Vaca): —Solo necesitaba cariño… y un baño. Prompt Manga: Wide shot. Car driving happily towards the horizon (or boxes). All characters waving. Heart icons. "FIN".
📘 Estructura de 12 Paneles: "El Auto que quería Cariño" Panel 1: El Escenario Visual: Un galpón rural polvoriento. Al fondo, un auto viejo cubierto de una capa de polvo blanca (como harina). El Ogre Bueni entra con una linterna. Diálogo (Ogre): —Che auto… ¿hoy querés arrancar? Prompt Manga: Wide shot, dusty barn interior. An old, boxy classic car covered in thick white dust. Friendly ogre entering. Manga linework, screentones. Panel 2: El Rechazo Visual: Primer plano del faro del auto que parece un ojo soñoliento. Una burbuja de texto sale del motor. Diálogo (Auto): —No… ay, no… déjenme dormir… Prompt Manga: Close-up of the car's headlight looking like a sleepy eye. Text bubble coming from the engine. Grumpy expression. Panel 3: El Sapo Churro Visual: Sapo Aldo toca el auto con un dedo y se llena de polvo. Está blanco de pies a cabeza. El Ogre y la Vaca Bueni miran asombrados. Diálogo (Aldo): —¡Ay, parezco un churro! ¡Ja, ja! Prompt Manga: Small toad named Aldo covered in white dust. He looks like a "churro" (powdered snack). Comedy manga style, speed lines. Panel 4: El Gato Salvador Visual: Un gato entra con una aspiradora vieja y ruidosa que rebota por el suelo (Boom, boom). Diálogo (Gato): —¡Acá vengo a salvar el día! Prompt Manga: Smug cat dragging a retro vacuum cleaner. Tail held high. Dynamic perspective. SFX: BOOM BOOM. Panel 5: El Caos de la Limpieza Visual: La aspiradora encendida a máxima potencia (FIIIUUU). El gato sale volando hacia atrás por la succión, con los pelos de punta. Diálogo (Gato): —¡Me dejó el pelo como nube! Prompt Manga: Action panel. Vacuum sucking air violently. Cat flying backwards with static, puffy fur. High energy, chaotic manga effect. Panel 6: El Gran Esfuerzo Visual: Todos empujan el auto. La Vaca con la nariz, los sapos por atrás, el Ogre de un costado. El auto está plantado y hace sonar la bocina molesto. Diálogo (Vaca): —Está haciendo capricho. Prompt Manga: Group effort. Ogre, cow, and toads straining to push the car. Sweat drops. SFX: HONK! (Bocina). Panel 7: La Sabiduría del Pato Visual: El Pato Bueni llega caminando tranquilo con aire de profesor mientras el Sapo Pepe se ríe en el suelo. Diálogo (Pato): —¿Probaste preguntarle qué quiere? Prompt Manga: Duck with a small bowtie looking wise. Sapo Pepe laughing in the background. Calm vs Chaos. Panel 8: El Secreto Revelado Visual: El Ogre se agacha frente al paragolpes, escuchando con atención. El auto susurra. Diálogo (Auto): —Yo quiero que me laven… Prompt Manga: Emotional panel. Ogre leaning close to the car's grill. Tiny, shaky text bubble. Sweet moment. Panel 9: El Spa del Campo Visual: Montaje de limpieza. La Vaca tira agua, los sapos frotan las ruedas y el gato limpia los vidrios mientras canta. Prompt Manga: Montage panel. Multiple small scenes of the animals scrubbing and washing the car. Bubbles and sparkles everywhere. Panel 10: ¡Como Nuevo! Visual: El auto brilla intensamente. Los personajes se tapan los ojos por el reflejo del sol en la carrocería. Diálogo (Gato): —¡Epa! ¡Parece un auto último modelo! Prompt Manga: The car is sparkling white/silver. Intense light glints (shoujo manga sparkles). Characters looking impressed. Panel 11: ¡Arranca! Visual: El Ogre gira la llave. Humo feliz sale del escape y el motor ruge con fuerza. Los sapos saltan del susto. Diálogo (Sapos): —¡Ah! ¡Nos asustó! Prompt Manga: Dynamic engine start. "VROOM" SFX in big letters. Toads jumping in mid-air from surprise. Panel 12: Final Feliz Visual: El auto manejando solito llevando las cajas, todos los animales saludando y riendo. Diálogo (Vaca): —Solo necesitaba cariño… y un baño. Prompt Manga: Wide shot. Car driving happily towards the horizon (or boxes). All characters waving. Heart icons. "FIN".
"Pretend Hypnosis" — Chapter 1: The Spell That Never Worked CHARACTER PROFILES AYATO HIMEKAWA — Black hair (messy, slightly falling over forehead), striking blue eyes. Calm, composed expression. Wears standard school uniform: dark blazer, white shirt, loosened tie. Tall build. Usually has a subtle smirk. NATSUMI AMANO — Long pink hair (flowing past shoulders, often with a small side clip). Large yellow eyes, expressive and dramatic. Same school uniform but with a bow instead of tie. Energetic, over-the-top personality. Often has exaggerated manga expressions. PANEL-BY-PANEL BREAKDOWN 📌 PANEL 1 — ESTABLISHING SHOT Visual Prompt: Wide-angle establishing shot of a Japanese high school classroom interior. Late afternoon light streams through tall windows on the right side, casting long diagonal shadow bars across rows of desks. The classroom is mostly empty — school has just ended. Desks and chairs are slightly pushed around. A chalkboard at the front has half-erased notes. Two figures are visible: AYATO sits sideways on his desk near the window, bag already packed, staring outside with a bored expression. NATSUMI stands a few desks away, rummaging through her bag with her back turned to him. The mood is quiet, ordinary, everyday. Camera Angle: High wide-angle from the back-left corner of the classroom, slightly tilted downward. Full environmental context visible. Dialogue (Ayato — internal monologue bubble): "Another painfully ordinary Tuesday after school..." 📌 PANEL 2 — CLOSE-UP / CHARACTER INTRODUCTION Visual Prompt: Medium close-up, slightly low angle looking up at NATSUMI's face as she spins around dramatically, one finger pointed upward as if she just had a revelation. Her long pink hair fans out with the motion — motion lines radiate behind her. Her yellow eyes are wide and sparkling with mischief. She's holding a small pocket watch on a chain that she just pulled from her bag. The watch dangles and glints. Her expression is intensely theatrical — the classic manga "I have a plan!" face. Small sparkle effects surround the watch. Camera Angle: Low-angle medium shot, slightly tilted for dynamism. Subject centered, hair and chain as compositional elements. Dialogue (Natsumi — speech bubble, bold text): "Ayato-kun! Don't move. I'm going to try something."
Panel 1 Wide shot: A dark noble bedchamber lit only by a dying hearth. The massive shape of Lord Michael Fortinbras lies asleep in the background, half-buried in blankets, his loud snoring filling the room. In the foreground, the Woodcutter Girl and the Priestess Concubine lie awake, staring into the darkness. SFX: GRRRHHH… KHHH… Caption: The lord slept soundly. Panel 2 Closer shot: The woodcutter lies stiffly on her side, eyes open, face tired and hollow. Woodcutter (small text): “…Are you awake?” Panel 3 Priestess close-up: She turns her head slightly on the pillow, eyes half-lidded, calm but worn. Priestess: “Yes.” Panel 4 Two-shot: The woodcutter hesitates, clutching the blanket near her chest. The priestess watches her quietly. Woodcutter: “Do you still believe?” Priestess: “…In what?” Panel 5 Woodcutter close-up: Pain and anger mix on her face. Woodcutter: “In God.” “In justice.” “In anything beyond this room.” Panel 6 Woodcutter continues, eyes wet but hard: The shadow of Fortinbras looms blurry in the background. Woodcutter: “We are brought here whenever he desires.” “He sleeps like a king.” “And we lie here like we are nothing.” “So tell me…” “What kind of God sees that and says nothing?” Panel 7 Priestess close-up: Her face turns solemn, almost haunted. Priestess: “There was a time…” “I would have answered you easily.” “I would have said suffering has purpose.” “That heaven sees all.” “That justice waits beyond mortal reach.” Panel 8 Half-panel: The priestess looks toward the dark ceiling. Candlelight catches her tired eyes. Priestess: “But words like that are easier to speak in a temple…” “…than in a lord’s bedchamber.” Panel 9 Woodcutter sits up slightly, expression sharpening with bitterness. Woodcutter: “Then God is weak.” Panel 10 Priestess turns to look directly at her. Priestess: “Or distant.” “Or silent.” “Or perhaps men simply commit evil…” “…and call it fate so they need not fear judgment.” Panel 11 Two-shot: The woodcutter looks shaken, but intent. The priestess remains composed. Woodcutter: “Then we are powerless.” “Even with God.” Priestess: “For now.” “Faith does not break locks.” “It does not stop cruel men.” “The powerless endure by learning where power lives… and waiting for the moment it shifts.” Panel 12 Final wide panel: Fortinbras remains asleep in the background, snoring like some vast beast. In the foreground, the priestess stares into the dark with grim resolve, while the woodcutter lies beside her, silent and thinking. SFX: GRRRHHH… Priestess: “Do not mistake silence for approval.” “The heavens may be silent…” “…but silence is not surrender.” Caption: And so the night passed beneath the weight of one man’s power… and the fragile refusal of two women to let despair become truth.
Panel Type Extra-wide cinematic panel (double-page spread feeling) Camera High-angle camera, positioned near the ceiling Looking downward at a slight diagonal tilt Emphasizes scale, complexity, and secrecy Characters appear small compared to the environment 🧪 Environment – Underground Laboratory (Tokyo 2030) A large underground laboratory hidden deep beneath the city, industrial and functional rather than clean or futuristic-glossy. Central Area A large workstation hub in the middle Multiple computer terminals with stacked screens (2025-level tech, not holograms) Screens show: Code Brain scan data System diagnostics Surveillance-style feeds Thick cables snake across the floor, connecting systems Left Side – Power & Network Systems Inspired by your server rack reference: Tall server towers lining the wall Blinking indicator lights Heavy power conduits running along walls and floor Backup batteries, transformers, exposed cabling Feels noisy and energy-dense, like the lab must stay powered at all costs Right Side – Brain Scanner Room Inspired by the brain scanner chamber: A sealed scanning pod or chair inside a recessed alcove Mechanical armature above it with a focused light Thick padding, restraint-like elements (medical, not violent) Glass or transparent barrier partially enclosing it Clearly the most unsettling object in the room Rear / Side Areas – Planning & Research Inspired by the planning boards: One or two mobile whiteboards Covered with: Maps Red and blue marker lines Handwritten notes Sticky notes Diagrams and timelines Papers taped unevenly Suggest long-term planning and obsession 👥 Characters (All Three Present) Positioning They stand together but not unified: Scientist near the central workstation Slightly forward, familiar with the space Calm, focused posture Suited Woman a step behind Arms crossed or rigid stance Body language skeptical and tense Visibly evaluating the lab Younger Woman slightly apart Curious, relaxed Looking around rather than at the others They are small compared to the lab, reinforcing how big and serious this place is. 🎨 Art Style Black-and-white manga illustration Heavy use of screentone for depth Strong industrial textures Clean but dense linework No exaggerated sci-fi glow Realistic near-future technology 🎭 Mood Overwhelming scale. Hidden knowledge. A place built over years for something dangerous and important. 🚫 Negative Prompt No chibi style, no fantasy magic, no bright cyberpunk neon, no known characters, no cartoon proportions, no text bubbles.
**Panel 1** *Wide establishing shot of the pristine academy hallway—marble floors gleaming under crystal chandeliers, lockers lining walls that look like they belong in a palace rather than a school. Students in expensive uniforms part like the Red Sea. At the far end, a procession approaches: Furina, flanked by four perfectly groomed hangers-on, moves with the fluid arrogance of someone who owns the ground she walks on.* **Panel 2** *Close-up on Furina's face. Sunlight from tall windows catches the blue highlights in her hair and the diamond earrings that probably cost more than a car. Her eyes—sharp, theatrical, scanning the crowd with practiced disdain—suddenly lock onto something off-panel. The corner of her mouth twitches. Not a smile. A predator spotting prey.* **Panel 3** *Dramatic low angle from the protagonist's perspective (Riccardo, brown hair slightly messy, glasses catching the light, worn blazer clearly not from the same tailor as everyone else's). Furina's silhouette blocks the hallway light, her friends fanning out behind her like wings. The perspective makes her seem towering, inevitable.* **Panel 4** *Medium shot. Furina stops abruptly, one hand on her hip, the other adjusting her designer bag strap with deliberate casualness. Her friends giggle behind manicured hands, but Furina's attention is laser-focused. Her cheeks show the faintest hint of pink—barely visible, easily mistaken for the flush of excitement rather than what it really is.* **Panel 5** *Extreme close-up of Furina's lips. Glossy, curled into that cruel, performative smirk. The dialogue balloon drips with theatrical venom:* **"Well, well, well. Look who it is!"** **Panel 6** *Cut to her eyes—wide, almost too bright. The reflection in her pupils shows a tiny, distorted image of you. Her fingers, hidden behind her back in this shot, are clutching her phone so tight her knuckles are white. A small text bubble near her head, small and wavering, reveals her internal monologue (manga-style, grayed out):* *"He wore the blue shirt today... the one that matches his eyes..."* **Panel 7** *Wide shot of the confrontation. The hallway has gone quiet. Other students press against the walls, watching the ritual humiliation. Furina takes one step forward, invading personal space, her head tilted back to look down her nose at you despite the fact that you're taller. Her friends lean in, expecting the usual performance—the comments about your secondhand shoes, your patched bag, your "peasant" glasses.* **Panel 8** *Close-up on Furina's hand. It reaches out as if to flick your collar or snatch your glasses—her usual taunts—but freezes mid-air. The fingers tremble almost imperceptibly. She pulls back, crossing her arms instead, maintaining the fortress of her arrogance.*
🌌 ASTRAL SOVEREIGN Episode 1 — “The Star That Fell” COLD OPEN EXT. NIGHT SKY – MOUNTAIN RANGE A vast star-filled sky stretches above jagged mountains. Wind moves slowly through drifting clouds. A distant meteor streaks across the sky. NARRATOR (V.O.) In a world where summoners bind creatures from distant realms… power determines the fate of kingdoms. The meteor grows brighter as it cuts across the night. NARRATOR (V.O.) For centuries, summoners have commanded spirits, beasts, and ancient entities beyond imagination. The meteor begins to fracture. Thousands of tiny glowing fragments scatter like falling stars. NARRATOR (V.O.) But once in a thousand years… the stars choose a sovereign. SCENE 1 EXT. CLIFFSIDE – NIGHT A lone figure stands on a cliff overlooking a vast valley. This is CIEL DOR. Silver-white hair moves in the wind. His long black coat flows behind him. He watches the sky. CIEL (quietly) That star… The meteor explodes into a brilliant cosmic flare. Suddenly— The constellations begin shifting. The sky rearranges itself into a glowing circular pattern. SCENE 2 CLOSE-UP – CIEL’S HAND A glowing ASTRAL SIGIL appears on his right hand. Blue light pulses through his arm. CIEL (startled) What…? The sigil spreads glowing energy. Wind erupts around him. SCENE 3 SKY ABOVE THE CLIFF The clouds form a massive summoning circle spanning the sky. Cosmic light pours downward. NARRATOR (V.O.) The Astral Realm had sensed its ruler. A deep mysterious voice echoes through the air. MYSTERIOUS VOICE (V.O.) The Sovereign has returned. Ciel looks around, confused. CIEL Who said that? SCENE 4 SUMMONING EVENT A glowing portal opens behind Ciel. Stars swirl inside it like a galaxy. Energy bursts outward. Ciel turns slowly. A massive silhouette appears within the portal. Heavy footsteps echo. SCENE 5 REVEAL – LYRA A gigantic CELESTIAL WOLF emerges. Its body is made of glowing stars and cosmic light. Particles drift from its fur like falling stardust. Ciel stares in shock. CIEL A… summon? The wolf steps forward. It lowers its massive head. Then kneels before him. SCENE 6 CIEL AND LYRA Ciel slowly raises his hand. He gently touches Lyra’s head. CIEL Why… are you bowing? Lyra speaks telepathically. LYRA (V.O.) Because you are the Astral Sovereign. Ciel’s eyes widen. CIEL Astral… Sovereign? SCENE 7 WIDE SHOT – CLIFF Ciel stands beside the massive celestial wolf beneath the starry sky. The summoning circle fades slowly. NARRATOR (V.O.) On that night, the heavens themselves chose their ruler. Lyra lifts its head and howls. The stars flare brightly across the sky. FINAL SCENE EXT. SKY – NIGHT The constellations shine brighter than ever. Far away… A dark crack forms in the sky. NARRATOR (V.O.) But every light casts a shadow. Deep within a distant dimension— A pair of red glowing eyes open in darkness. NARRATOR (V.O.) And the Void was beginning to stir. END OF EPISODE TEXT ON SCREEN: ASTRAL SOVEREIGN TO BE CONTINUED
Panel 1 Wide shot: A vast noble bedchamber under low candlelight. Lord Michael Fortinbras, his wife, the priestess concubine, and the woodcutter girl all lie beneath the same tangled sheets in the great bed. Their state of undress and the disordered bedding make the situation clear without lingering on it. Fortinbras is already asleep, snoring heavily. SFX: GRRRHHH… KHHH… Caption: The lord slept soundly, as though nothing in the chamber could trouble him. Panel 2 Closer shot: The woodcutter girl lies awake near the edge of the bed, clutching the blanket close to herself. Her face is tense and exhausted. In the background, the wife lies silent with eyes closed, unmoving, while the priestess concubine stares upward in weary thought. Woodcutter (small text): “…Are you awake?” Panel 3 Priestess close-up: She turns her head slightly toward the woodcutter. Priestess: “Yes.” Panel 4 Two-shot: The woodcutter keeps her voice low so as not to wake either Lord Fortinbras or the wife. Woodcutter: “Do you still believe?” Priestess: “…In what?” Panel 5 Woodcutter close-up: Her expression is bitter, wounded, and searching. Woodcutter: “In God.” “In justice.” “In anything beyond men like him.” Panel 6 Medium shot: Fortinbras’s huge sleeping form dominates the background; the women are smaller beneath the sheets in the foreground. Woodcutter: “We are made to share his bed whenever he desires.” “He sleeps in comfort.” “And we lie here as though our will means nothing.” “So tell me…” “What kind of God watches that and stays silent?” Panel 7 Priestess close-up: Shadow crosses her face. Priestess: “There was a time I would have answered easily.” “I would have spoken of trials, of divine order, of justice beyond this world.” Panel 8 Half-panel: The priestess looks toward the dark canopy above. Priestess: “But such words sound different here.” “They are lighter in a temple…” “…than in a lord’s bed.” Panel 9 Woodcutter close-up: Her jaw tightens. Woodcutter: “Then God is weak.” Panel 10 Priestess turns to face her fully. Priestess: “Or distant.” “Or silent.” “Or perhaps men commit cruelty and call it their right, because no one dares deny them.” Panel 11 Three-woman composition: The wife is now visibly awake, listening in silence, though she says nothing. The priestess and woodcutter remain the focus. Woodcutter: “Then we are powerless.” “Even with God.” Priestess: “For now.” “Faith does not unmake cruel men.” “It does not break a lord’s power in a single night.” “The powerless endure by learning where power lives… and waiting for it to crack.” Panel 12 Final wide panel: All four remain in the same bed beneath the heavy blankets—Fortinbras asleep and oblivious, the wife silent and unreadable, the priestess grim, the woodcutter staring into darkness. SFX: GRRRHHH… Priestess: “Do not mistake silence for approval.” “The heavens may be silent…” “…but silence is not surrender.” Caption: And so the night endured beneath one man’s shadow, while three women measured the cost of living under it.
Panel 1 Wide shot: A private chamber in the Fortinbras estate. Candlelight. Heavy curtains. The three women sit together—the Wife seated formally, the Priestess Concubine calm but guarded, the Woodcutter Girl nervous and out of place. Caption: Within House Fortinbras, even quiet conversations carried the weight of power. Wife: “Sit. We will speak plainly.” Panel 2 Closer shot: The wife folds her hands in her lap, composed and stern. Wife: “You both belong to this household now.” “So tell me… when my lord calls for you, how often does he summon you?” Panel 3 Priestess concubine close-up: She averts her eyes slightly, but answers with controlled dignity. Priestess Concubine: “Often enough that I understand my place.” “To him, companionship is not tenderness.” “It is appetite, authority… and legacy.” Panel 4 Woodcutter close-up: She looks uneasy, fingers tightened in her dress. Woodcutter: “I stopped counting.” “When he wants someone, he sends for her.” “That is all there is to it.” Panel 5 The wife watches both women carefully. Her face is unreadable. Wife: “Then you understand the next matter.” “If either of you becomes pregnant, what were you told to expect?” Panel 6 Priestess concubine speaking: Calm, bitter wisdom in her expression. Priestess Concubine: “That the child will belong to House Fortinbras before it belongs to me.” “That nurses, tutors, and household servants will raise it in the lord’s name.” “That blood matters more than a mother’s wishes.” Panel 7 Woodcutter speaking, tense: She looks smaller in the room, overwhelmed by the reality of it. Woodcutter: “I was told I would be watched day and night.” “Fed well. Guarded. Kept safe.” “But not for my sake.” “For the child.” Panel 8 The wife leans slightly forward. Her tone is firm, instructional. Wife: “That is the truth.” “In this house, any child of Lord Fortinbras is part of the house’s future.” “They are raised for rank, obedience, and usefulness.” Panel 9 Half-panel focus on the wife, dark background behind her for emphasis. Wife: “They will learn the name Fortinbras before they learn their own desires.” “They will be taught duty, inheritance, and power.” “Some will strengthen alliances. Some will serve the estate. All will carry his shadow.” Panel 10 Priestess concubine looks at the wife directly for the first time. Priestess Concubine: “And the mothers?” “What becomes of us after the child is born?” Panel 11 The wife answers. Her expression softens only slightly, but remains severe. Wife: “That depends.” “A wise woman may gain security, comfort, even influence.” “A foolish one will remain only what she was when she entered this house.” “Useful… but never truly free.” Panel 12 Final dramatic panel: The three women in silence. The wife sits upright at center, the priestess thoughtful, the woodcutter shaken. Candlelight flickers. Woodcutter (small text): “So the child is born into power… and we are not?” Wife: “The child is claimed by power from its first breath.” “That is the way of House Fortinbras.” Caption: And in that chamber, each woman understood that motherhood in a great house was not mercy… but submission to legacy.
Panel 1 (Full-width splash, establishing shot) Wide exterior view of Blackspire Keep at night, snow falling gently. A lone rider (Lady Seraphine in dark cloak) approaches the gates on horseback. Caption (top): "Midnight. The eve of his nameday." SFX: clip-clop… clip-clop… Panel 2 (Medium shot) Seraphine dismounts in the courtyard. Servants scatter in fear at her expression—eyes narrowed, lips pressed thin. Close-up inset on her face: subtle disgust already flickering. Thought bubble (small): …I only wished to surprise him. Panel 3 (Tall vertical panel) Seraphine strides down a torch-lit corridor, riding crop dangling loosely. Her boots echo. Background: shadows stretch long. SFX: thud… thud… thud… Panel 4 (Wide panel, door POV) The heavy solar door creaks open. Warm candlelight pours out. Foreground: Seraphine's silhouette in the doorway, cloak billowing slightly. Inside: chaotic bed scene just visible—bare limbs, tangled sheets, laughter frozen mid-breath. Panel 5 (Large panel, reveal) Full interior shot of the decadent bedroom: massive four-poster bed, candles guttering, furs and silks strewn everywhere. Center: Fat Lord Fortinbras sprawled naked, belly shining with sweat, surrounded by four equally naked noblewomen (two mother-daughter pairs: Mirene & Celine Varnholt; Elira & Lyssia Drayce). They freeze, eyes wide in horror. Under the bed: two more half-hidden girls in shifts, peeking out in terror. SFX: gasp! Panel 6 (Close-up on Seraphine) Tight on her face—eyes half-lidded, upper lip curled in revulsion. No shout. Just quiet, visceral disgust. A single bead of sweat rolls down her temple (not from anger—from sheer distaste). Thought bubble: …This… is what my husband chooses. Panel 7 (Medium group shot) The women scramble in panic: sheets tear, bare feet slap stone, arms cover themselves. Mirene clutches fabric; Celine bolts; Elira drags her daughter. The two under-bed girls crawl out, red-faced, fleeing past Seraphine like rats. Background: Fortinbras wheezes, trying to sit up, belly jiggling pathetically. Panel 8 (Over-the-shoulder from Seraphine) She stands motionless. View past her shoulder: the fleeing women disappear down the hall. Fortinbras in foreground, small and ridiculous on the ruined bed, mouth open in excuse. His speech bubble (stammering): "S-Seraphine… my love… this is—" Panel 9 (Extreme close-up on Seraphine) Her eyes only—cold, contemptuous pupils reflecting candle flames. No dialogue. Just a slow, deliberate blink of disgust. SFX: soft … Panel 10 (Medium shot) Seraphine steps forward one pace. She reaches out slowly and plucks a long auburn hair (Mirene's) from his damp chest. Holds it up between thumb and forefinger like something diseased. Her expression: lip curled further, nostrils slightly flared. Panel 11 (Tight two-shot) Close on Fortinbras's face—sweat pouring, small eyes darting, pleading. Inset panel (small): Seraphine's mouth, corners turned down in pure revulsion. Her dialogue (quiet, flat): "You are… disgusting." Panel 12 (Full-page splash, final blow) Seraphine turns her back and walks out, cloak swirling. The door begins to close behind her. Foreground: Fortinbras alone on the wrecked bed, naked, small, surrounded by cooling candles and the stench of his own excess. His face: crumpled in shame. Background fades to black around the edges. Caption (bottom, small text): She feels no fury. Only nausea. SFX: click (door shutting) (End scene.)