Prompt:
Deep beneath the ocean, a futuristic city sprawls across the seabed — a vast, asymmetrical Atlantis shaped by time, pressure, and survival. Unlike symmetrical surface cities, its layout is organic and uneven: tilted towers of aged metal, partially buried domes, and curved tunnels that wind with the terrain. No two structures are alike. Some rise like twisted spires, others are broken and rebuilt from ocean debris and tech.
The color palette is grounded and natural: soft teals, deep sea blues, muted brass, and oxidized greens. No purples, no neon — only the filtered glow of sunlight breaking through water and sediment, casting fractured patterns over crumbling surfaces. Algae, rust, and coral creep over the architecture, blending nature and machine.
The city pulses faintly with low amber and aquamarine lights — signs of power, life, or memory. Transparent transport tubes arc across the site, many dark and unused, others lit from within as shadowy figures drift through them. Mechanical drones hover silently, scanning and maintaining the ruins.
Fish with strange, angular forms swim between structures — some familiar, others clearly engineered or evolved. A few mechanical marine creatures glide through the water, their exteriors worn but functional.
In the foreground, a large, damaged central structure leans at an unnatural angle — possibly a crashed vessel turned capital, its sides reinforced with steel braces and coral plating. It towers above the ruins like a cathedral of survival.
Rendered in cinematic 16K detail, the scene is moody, complex, and immersive — a forgotten world rebuilt in the deep, shaped by necessity and resilience, not perfection.