in the depths of the underworld, a lone figure emerges from the shadows. the 42 year old forging machine setter, clad in tattered leathers and goggles, stands atop a rusted, ancient forge, its stone walls bearing the marks of countless cycles of fire and darkness. amidst the desolate landscape, the air thick with the stench of sulfur and decay, the figure gazes out at a surreal vision. before them lies a sprawling metropolis, its skyscrapers twisted into abstract forms, as if carved by some ancient, prehistoric hand. the city's streets are alive with motion, not from the thrum of traffic or pedestrians, but from the fluid lines and curves of urban downhill bikes. they soar through the air, their riders' silhouettes blurred as they navigate the winding, organic roads. the artwork, rendered in a style reminiscent of ancient cave paintings, pulsates with a primal energy. the dark, earthy tones of the underworld seep into the very fabric of the image, imbuing it with an otherworldly intensity. the strokes are bold and expressive, as if applied by some long forgotten artist's fingers dipped in the very essence of the underworld. in this desolate yet vibrant tableau, the forging machine setter stands as a sentinel, their gaze fixed upon the city's kinetic energy. it is as if they have been awakened to a world beyond their own, one where the laws of gravity are but a distant memory and the thrill of speed is the only constant. the image seems to vibrate with an almost palpable power, as if the very essence of the underworld has been distilled into this hauntingly beautiful representation of urban downhill biking., <lora:sdxl_lightning_8step_lora.safetensors:0.6>