([by Richard Rogers|by Henry Moore]:1.5), (In the flickering glow of a night sky, masked figures huddle together, their faces obscured by shadows and secrecy. Their expressions are contorted in fear, their eyes cloaked with the weight of clandestine knowledge and hidden truths. Each figure bears the mark of their identity, a mask that serves as both shield and shroud, concealing their identities from prying eyes. The air is thick with anticipation, as if the flames have been transported to an unknown place, where anything is possible, and the tales they share hold power to shape the world around them.:0.5) (Futuristic style:1.3) <lora:xl_more_art-full_v1:0.5> <lora:add-detail-xl:0.7> <lora:MJ52:0.4>