Digital painting style, (brushstrokes:1. 2), dark A woman with short, spiky hair the color of dark chestnut and eyes that burn like embers from a dying fire sits cross- legged on a worn, crimson velvet couch in the center of a dimly lit, circular room, the walls of which are lined with old, ornate mirrors that seem to stretch on forever, each one reflecting a different version of herself, some with eyes black as coal, others with skin deathly pale, and a few with faces twisted in a scream, the air thick with the scent of old books and smoke, the only sound the soft ticking of a grandfather clock in the corner, its face shattered, its gears visible, like the inner workings of the woman's mind, as she stares down at a small, leather- bound book lying open on her lap, its pages filled with handwritten notes and sketches of twisting corridors and dark, foreboding landscapes, a look of intense focus on her face, her brow furrowed, her lips pursed, as if she's trying to unravel a puzzle that's been plaguing her for years, the mirrors around her reflecting the turmoil in her mind, each one showing a different path, a different choice, a different outcome, as the woman's thoughts continue to swirl, a maelstrom of confusion and uncertainty, with no clear escape in sight. <lora:PainterlyFantasiaSDXL:1. 0>