Bathed in a honeyed glow, a figure stands, solitary yet sovereign, against a consuming darkness; it is both less and more than human, a construct of golden light and geometric shadows, with limbs like the branches of an ancient tree reaching not for the sun but for the warmth of its own luminous soul. It holds within its crystalline torso a world of molten amber, a fragment of captured daylight, standing as a silent sentinel at the threshold of day and night.
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