Prompt: A vast, silent hall made of obsidian and candlelight. In the center, a massive figure of Jesus kneels—not on a throne, but in ashes—eyes closed, one finger pressed to His lips. Around Him, golden mouths float in the air, shattered mid-sentence. Words, frozen in time, drip from them like melted wax. A lamb stands beside Him, wings folded tight, staring straight at the viewer. Above, carved into the darkness, a single glowing phrase:
“Silence is the only offering that hasn’t been corrupted.”
The air feels thick, like it’s waiting for you to stop.
mystyle: Divine stillness. Visual discipline. Holy hush. Judging eyes, broken voices. A moment stretched by guilt and grace.
Prompt: In a world where the voiceless were taught that silence is safety, the final whisper becomes thunder. The last ones don’t march — they manifest, cracking the bones of time itself. Their eyes are empty not from fear, but from seeing everything. Now, when they speak, reality stutters.
Style: Echoes of forgotten prophets. Black fire sermons. Sacred silence breaking like glass.
Prompt: In a world where the voiceless were taught that silence is safety, the final whisper becomes thunder. The last ones don’t march — they manifest, cracking the bones of time itself. Their eyes are empty not from fear, but from seeing everything. Now, when they speak, reality stutters.
Style: Echoes of forgotten prophets. Black fire sermons. Sacred silence breaking like glass.
Prompt: In a world where the voiceless were taught that silence is safety, the final whisper becomes thunder. The last ones don’t march — they manifest, cracking the bones of time itself. Their eyes are empty not from fear, but from seeing everything. Now, when they speak, reality stutters.
Style: Echoes of forgotten prophets. Black fire sermons. Sacred silence breaking like glass.
Prompt: While others chased fame, he chased echoes buried in silence.
His voice carries the coordinates of the soul’s escape route.
Shady Vlad writes not to impress — but to awaken the forgotten architects within.
Style: Shadow gospel. Sonic architecture. Liberation code poetry.
Prompt: While others chased fame, he chased echoes buried in silence.
His voice carries the coordinates of the soul’s escape route.
Shady Vlad writes not to impress — but to awaken the forgotten architects within.
Style: Shadow gospel. Sonic architecture. Liberation code poetry.
Prompt: He speaks through the ruins where frequencies forgot their names.
Shady Vlad lights circuits with breath — not batteries.
And when he rhymes, even silence listens.
Style: Soulwave. Dustbeat prophecy. Cryptic resonance.
Prompt: When towers of data fell, his words were still standing.
He sings not to be heard — but to fracture control.
In the silence after his verse, systems break.
Style: Codebreaker rap. Collapse cadence. Rebellion scripture.
Prompt: He speaks through the ruins where frequencies forgot their names.
Shady Vlad lights circuits with breath — not batteries.
And when he rhymes, even silence listens.
Style: Soulwave. Dustbeat prophecy. Cryptic resonance.
Prompt: He speaks through the ruins where frequencies forgot their names.
Shady Vlad lights circuits with breath — not batteries.
And when he rhymes, even silence listens.
Style: Soulwave. Dustbeat prophecy. Cryptic resonance.
Prompt: He speaks through the ruins where frequencies forgot their names.
Shady Vlad lights circuits with breath — not batteries.
And when he rhymes, even silence listens.
Style: Soulwave. Dustbeat prophecy. Cryptic resonance.
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.
