score_9, score_8_up, score_7_up, in the dimly lit otaku room, a 40 year old correctional treatment specialist stands tall, surrounded by the eerie silence of the darkened atmosphere. the air is thick with the scent of fresh paint and nostalgia. before them lies a canvas, splashed with vibrant hues in a naïve art style that appears almost yet exudes an aura of wisdom. the world they behold is not as it seems; twisted tree branches writhe across the surface like skeletal fingers, while swirling clouds of purple and blue morph into fantastical creatures. in the distance, a lone cityscape glows with a soft, ethereal light, as if the very fabric of reality has been woven into an otherworldly tapestry. the specialist's eyes gleam with a quiet intensity, their gaze lost in the depths of this surreal landscape, where the boundaries between reality and fantasy blur like the brushstrokes on the canvas itself., <lora:sdxl_lightning_8step_lora.safetensors:0.6>