Prompt: A cinematic, psychologically intense oil painting set inside a low-ceilinged bar and gambling house in 1930s Dust Bowl America. The room is thick with smoke and shadow, lit by flickering oil lamps and stained amber bulbs that cast uneven light across worn wooden floors and scarred tables.
The bar is cluttered and alive with detail: dark liquor bottles lined along a sticky wooden counter, glasses half-filled with whiskey and beer, playing cards scattered across tables, coins and crumpled bills glinting in the dim light. The walls are stained with smoke and age, layered with peeling paint, faded advertisements, and tacked-up notices. Red velvet curtains hang unevenly, heavy and oppressive, absorbing light rather than reflecting it.
At the center of the scene stands Brother Justin, a tall evangelical minister in his early thirties with neatly combed dark hair and a long, severe face. He is dressed in a dark clerical suit, immaculate and out of place in this environment. His posture is upright, rigid, and commanding.
Brother Justin’s eyes are fully black — the whites completely gone — as his disturbing gift manifests. He points an accusing finger on the establishment's owner standing before him. His expression is resolute, and utterly certain. He's not angry, but he has a judgmental look on his face as he is seeing his sins.
Facing him is the bar’s owner, a thickset man with flushed skin and sweat at his brow. His face is frozen in terror as he recoils backward, one hand gripping the edge of a table for support. His eyes are wide, his mouth slightly open, as if he knows he has been exposed at the deepest level.
Subtly woven into the shadows and reflections around the owner are faint, painterly impressions of the sins Brother Justin perceives — distorted silhouettes, warped reflections in mirrors, abused child-sized shapes suggested only through absence and implication. These visions do not exist physically in the room; they are overlays of Justin’s perception, ghostlike and restrained.
Brother Justin raises one hand with pointing a finger — not in blessing, not in violence — but in judgment, as if naming what cannot be denied.
The environment itself remains unchanged. No objects break. No light explodes. The horror is moral, not physical.
The color palette is rich and oppressive: deep browns, tobacco blacks, bruised reds, dirty golds, and sickly yellows. Warm light pools around the bar, while corners dissolve into shadow. Painterly brushstrokes emphasize smoke, wood grain, fabric, and faces with some colors.
The mood is suffocating and accusatory — the moment a man realizes his sins are visible, and another realizes he has been chosen to see them.
Dream Level: is increased each time when you "Go Deeper" into the dream. Each new level is harder to achieve and
takes more iterations than the one before.
Rare Deep Dream: is any dream which went deeper than level 6.
Deep Dream
You cannot go deeper into someone else's dream. You must create your own.
Deep Dream
Currently going deeper is available only for Deep Dreams.
