Prompt:
Cinematic widescreen shot. An immense, minimalist, and brutally clean corporate atrium. The architecture is a fusion of obsidian and chrome, so polished that every surface acts as a dark mirror. The style is hyper-realistic with an undercurrent of cold, architectural surrealism and deep-dream detail.
The scene is dominated by three figures, positioned to create a tense, unspoken narrative. In the near foreground, slightly to the right, is Bill Gates. He holds a crystal glass, but instead of a drink, it contains a single, perfectly rendered, glowing human eye that calmly watches the viewer. In the midground, to the left, stands Demis Hassabis. He is looking past Gates, his gaze fixed on something distant and unseen. His hands are held in front of him, cupping a shimmering, holographic lattice of predictive social graphs that writhe and connect like a living nervous system. In the background, perfectly centered, stands Yvette Cooper. She is static, observing both men, her face a mask of serene neutrality. Her shadow, however, is impossibly long and sharp, stretching across the floor towards the viewer, and it is subtly distorted, not quite matching her form.
The floor is the most unsettling element. It is a perfect black mirror, but it doesn't reflect the figures or the room. Instead, it reflects a swirling, deep-dream vortex of biometric data: glowing fingerprints, retinal scans, and flowing heart rate monitors, all moving in a slow, silent, predatory ballet. The only light in the scene emanates from this data-sea on the floor, casting long, eerie, upward-facing shadows on the three figures.
The vast walls are featureless, except for a single, massive, widescreen window that looks out not onto a city, but onto a calm, infinite, starless black void. The atmosphere is one of absolute silence, immense scale, and the profound horror of a perfectly clean, perfectly monitored, and perfectly empty world.
Artist
