Prompt: Beneath a sky split by revelation, she stands on a bridge made of sound. The wind speaks in equations, the clouds glow with memory. Metatron rises above the horizon, not as a god, but as the voice of divine structure. Enoch reborn — script of eternity made manifest.
Prompt: 1.
Within a vault of polished silver columns and golden lattices, she kneels as the air shimmers with coded light. Metatron descends in a robe woven from equations, each thread a doctrine of creation, each breath a spark that ignites the architecture of reality.
2.
Across a bridge of pure gold suspended in mist, she approaches a silver pedestal holding the Book of Life. The pages turn without touch, revealing her name in letters made of burning starlight. Metatron’s hand hovers above — blessing, sealing, remembering.
3.
In a hall where the floors are liquid silver and the walls are hammered gold, she finds the angelic architect. Metatron stands amidst rotating cubes and spheres, each inscribed with celestial law, each humming with the precision of eternal mathematics.
4.
She steps into a library of golden arches and silver shelves where books glow with living script. Metatron appears as a silhouette of perfect geometry, his voice shaping the doctrine of cause and consequence, carving reality in strokes of divine light.
5.
In the mountain’s heart, a chamber of molten gold and liquid silver beats like a living organ. From its center rises Metatron, holding a scroll that unravels across dimensions, revealing the doctrine of unity — the hidden blueprint of all creation.
6.
Beneath a sky of metallic constellations, the ground reflects like a mirror of liquid silver. Metatron walks toward her in perfect symmetry, each step a law, each gesture a prophecy. The doctrine is not spoken — it is engraved in the air itself.
7.
Inside a cathedral forged from gold filigree and silver veins, angelic choirs float in the air like crystal harmonies. Metatron, crowned with a halo of infinite polygons, extends a quill of light, ready to write her destiny into the eternal doctrine.
8.
She wanders through a labyrinth of golden corridors, each turn revealing silver mosaics of cosmic history. At the center waits Metatron, keeper of divine precision, holding the cube of creation — a perfect fusion of number, form, and sacred decree.
9.
In a realm where rivers of molten silver flow beneath bridges of pure gold, she encounters Metatron standing on a platform of rotating symbols. Each symbol is a key, each turn unlocking another layer of the doctrine that sustains existence.
10.
Amid clouds woven from powdered gold and moonlit silver, she hears the whisper of Metatron. His words manifest as glowing diagrams in the air — the unspoken doctrine, the living formula, the architecture of eternity traced with perfect, deliberate hands.
Prompt: In a realm where rivers of molten silver flow beneath bridges of pure gold, she encounters Metatron standing on a platform of rotating symbols. Each symbol is a key, each turn unlocking another layer of the doctrine that sustains existence.
Prompt: In a realm where rivers of molten silver flow beneath bridges of pure gold, she encounters Metatron standing on a platform of rotating symbols. Each symbol is a key, each turn unlocking another layer of the doctrine that sustains existence.
Prompt: In the mountain’s heart, a chamber of molten gold and liquid silver beats like a living organ. From its center rises Metatron, holding a scroll that unravels across dimensions, revealing the doctrine of unity — the hidden blueprint of all creation.
Prompt: Beneath a sky of metallic constellations, the ground reflects like a mirror of liquid silver. Metatron walks toward her in perfect symmetry, each step a law, each gesture a prophecy. The doctrine is not spoken — it is engraved in the air itself.
Prompt: Beneath a sky split by revelation, she stands on a bridge made of sound. The wind speaks in equations, the clouds glow with memory. Metatron rises above the horizon, not as a god, but as the voice of divine structure. Enoch reborn — script of eternity made manifest.
Prompt: On the edge of a dimension stitched from sacred geometry, she watches as angelic beings bow in perfect formation. At their center: Metatron, cloaked in white fire, issuing decrees in a language of pure vibration. The order of heaven is not silent — it sings
Prompt: Beneath a sky of metallic constellations, the ground reflects like a mirror of liquid silver. Metatron walks toward her in perfect symmetry, each step a law, each gesture a prophecy. The doctrine is not spoken — it is engraved in the air itself.
Prompt: Inside a cathedral forged from gold filigree and silver veins, angelic choirs float in the air like crystal harmonies. Metatron, crowned with a halo of infinite polygons, extends a quill of light, ready to write her destiny into the eternal doctrine.
Prompt: In a realm where rivers of molten silver flow beneath bridges of pure gold, she encounters Metatron standing on a platform of rotating symbols. Each symbol is a key, each turn unlocking another layer of the doctrine that sustains existence.
Prompt: In the mountain’s heart, a chamber of molten gold and liquid silver beats like a living organ. From its center rises Metatron, holding a scroll that unravels across dimensions, revealing the doctrine of unity — the hidden blueprint of all creation.
Prompt: She walks barefoot across a sea of shattered mirrors, each shard reflecting a different lifetime. In the center, an angel of immense stillness waits, wings made of sigils and ancient code. Metatron, guardian of the Akashic scrolls, watches her steps with silent judgment. 36 wings and 365000 ochi in the fizical body
Prompt: Beneath a sky of metallic constellations, the ground reflects like a mirror of liquid silver. Metatron walks toward her in perfect symmetry, each step a law, each gesture a prophecy. The doctrine is not spoken — it is engraved in the air itself.
Prompt: She wanders through a labyrinth of golden corridors, each turn revealing silver mosaics of cosmic history. At the center waits Metatron, keeper of divine precision, holding the cube of creation — a perfect fusion of number, form, and sacred decree.
Prompt: Amid clouds woven from powdered gold and moonlit silver, she hears the whisper of Metatron. His words manifest as glowing diagrams in the air — the unspoken doctrine, the living formula, the architecture of eternity traced with perfect, deliberate hands.
Prompt: Beneath a sky of metallic constellations, the ground reflects like a mirror of liquid silver. Metatron walks toward her in perfect symmetry, each step a law, each gesture a prophecy. The doctrine is not spoken — it is engraved in the air itself.
Prompt: Beneath a sky of metallic constellations, the ground reflects like a mirror of liquid silver. Metatron walks toward her in perfect symmetry, each step a law, each gesture a prophecy. The doctrine is not spoken — it is engraved in the air itself.
Prompt: She floats through a chamber of golden architecture, the walls humming with divine frequencies. From above descends a radiant presence with a thousand wings, eyes burning like galaxies — Metatron, closest to the Throne, conductor of the angelic chorus.
Prompt: In the mountain’s heart, a chamber of molten gold and liquid silver beats like a living organ. From its center rises Metatron, holding a scroll that unravels across dimensions, revealing the doctrine of unity — the hidden blueprint of all creation.
Prompt: In the mountain’s heart, a chamber of molten gold and liquid silver beats like a living organ. From its center rises Metatron, holding a scroll that unravels across dimensions, revealing the doctrine of unity — the hidden blueprint of all creation.
Prompt: In the mountain’s heart, a chamber of molten gold and liquid silver beats like a living organ. From its center rises Metatron, holding a scroll that unravels across dimensions, revealing the doctrine of unity — the hidden blueprint of all creation.
Prompt: Amid clouds woven from powdered gold and moonlit silver, she hears the whisper of Metatron. His words manifest as glowing diagrams in the air — the unspoken doctrine, the living formula, the architecture of eternity traced with perfect, deliberate hands.
Prompt: In a realm where rivers of molten silver flow beneath bridges of pure gold, she encounters Metatron standing on a platform of rotating symbols. Each symbol is a key, each turn unlocking another layer of the doctrine that sustains existence.
Prompt: Beneath a sky of metallic constellations, the ground reflects like a mirror of liquid silver. Metatron walks toward her in perfect symmetry, each step a law, each gesture a prophecy. The doctrine is not spoken — it is engraved in the air itself.
Prompt: Beneath a sky of metallic constellations, the ground reflects like a mirror of liquid silver. Metatron walks toward her in perfect symmetry, each step a law, each gesture a prophecy. The doctrine is not spoken — it is engraved in the air itself.
Prompt: Inside a celestial archive lit by rotating suns, a woman traces the glowing glyphs on a translucent wall. Behind her, Metatron manifests — neither male nor female — a being made of thought and thunder, eternal steward of the Book of Life.
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.
