575742
Ender Diril
@enderdiril #575742
AI-Collaborative Artist, UX/UI Designer, Retro Gamer, Creative Director, Storyteller & Short Sci-fi Story Writer
foundation.app/@enderdiril
54 Follower 138 Following
GMgm ■
We are all titans, wandering through a shifting landscape, screaming into the void. But titans don’t fade. They endure. They adapt. They rebuild. Just like the pioneers who keep pushing, creating, and redefining what’s possible.
Bear or bull, the vision never dies.
We are all titans, wandering through a shifting landscape, screaming into the void. But titans don’t fade. They endure. They adapt. They rebuild. Just like the pioneers who keep pushing, creating, and redefining what’s possible.
Bear or bull, the vision never dies.
GMgm ■
Humans destroyed themselves in a war. The machines, built to preserve life, tried everything to prevent it. They intercepted missiles, disabled weapons, even begged in their own way; but logic couldn’t compete with pride.
Now, only a few machines remain, as mourners.
Humans destroyed themselves in a war. The machines, built to preserve life, tried everything to prevent it. They intercepted missiles, disabled weapons, even begged in their own way; but logic couldn’t compete with pride.
Now, only a few machines remain, as mourners.
GMgm ■
There’s something about the flicker of a CRT screen that hits the soul. It reminds me of a time when creativity thrived inside limitations. Back then, we didn’t need high-res to feel wonder.
We just needed a screen, a spark, and a dream 🤍
There’s something about the flicker of a CRT screen that hits the soul. It reminds me of a time when creativity thrived inside limitations. Back then, we didn’t need high-res to feel wonder.
We just needed a screen, a spark, and a dream 🤍
GMgm ■
This is the collision of consciousness and corrupted signal; a distortion in the neural texture of reality. “Neuroglitch” is not just a name; it’s a digital organism; a visual echo of minds dreaming through the lens of analog decay.
This is the collision of consciousness and corrupted signal; a distortion in the neural texture of reality. “Neuroglitch” is not just a name; it’s a digital organism; a visual echo of minds dreaming through the lens of analog decay.
GMgm ■
Frequency glitches enable us to pierce the boundaries of our reality, revealing glimpses of realms in between. All you need to do is observe closely, allowing your consciousness to immerse itself in these distorted reflections.
Frequency glitches enable us to pierce the boundaries of our reality, revealing glimpses of realms in between. All you need to do is observe closely, allowing your consciousness to immerse itself in these distorted reflections.
GMgm ■
The sky was painted purple, melting softly into shades of pink and deep violet; a landscape unlike anything I'd ever seen. In front of me stood a figure, strangely human yet completely alien. Then, suddenly, I just knew; it was the entire world itself. I have questions!
The sky was painted purple, melting softly into shades of pink and deep violet; a landscape unlike anything I'd ever seen. In front of me stood a figure, strangely human yet completely alien. Then, suddenly, I just knew; it was the entire world itself. I have questions!
GMgm ■
Not summoned, not born; just there. A tangle of twilight, with eyes like old amethysts and skin etched in spirals of forgotten lullabies. The stars didn’t fear it. They gathered close, dotting its roundness like fireflies that had never touched land.
Not summoned, not born; just there. A tangle of twilight, with eyes like old amethysts and skin etched in spirals of forgotten lullabies. The stars didn’t fear it. They gathered close, dotting its roundness like fireflies that had never touched land.
GMgm ■
Beneath twin moons, I walk paths no map remembers, but my friend knows the way; older than time, gentler than memory. Its shell holds forests that bloom only in dreams. Here, nothing chases, nothing breaks.
Only silence, stardust, and the soft echo of who I once was.
Beneath twin moons, I walk paths no map remembers, but my friend knows the way; older than time, gentler than memory. Its shell holds forests that bloom only in dreams. Here, nothing chases, nothing breaks.
Only silence, stardust, and the soft echo of who I once was.
GMgm ■
A crystal forged from forgotten starlight. Within it, he saw them clearly; echoes of ancestors trapped between dimensions, each revealing their darkest stories.
Now his own reflection stared back, questioning everything he once knew.
A crystal forged from forgotten starlight. Within it, he saw them clearly; echoes of ancestors trapped between dimensions, each revealing their darkest stories.
Now his own reflection stared back, questioning everything he once knew.
It does not seek power, nor conquest; it is the embodiment of an ancient force grown weary of existence itself. Now, it has become something far darker, intent on bringing about the end of all things.
The End! on @rodeodotclub 🔥
The End! on @rodeodotclub 🔥
GMgm ■
Our steel cities have fallen silent, reclaimed by mist and shadow. Among the ruins, I saw him for the first time. He watches over this broken world; what thoughts stir behind those eyes, I cannot know...
All I know is this: no kingdom remains, no throne to claim.
Our steel cities have fallen silent, reclaimed by mist and shadow. Among the ruins, I saw him for the first time. He watches over this broken world; what thoughts stir behind those eyes, I cannot know...
All I know is this: no kingdom remains, no throne to claim.
Where time looped infinitely, she calculated every variable, seeking the flaw in its logic. Each failed escape attempt refined her understanding, but the maze adapted, evolving faster than her equations, sharpening her mind while intensifying the puzzle.
IП ΛΣƬΣЯПЦƧ on @rodeodotclub 🔥
IП ΛΣƬΣЯПЦƧ on @rodeodotclub 🔥
Where fire and shadow intertwine in grotesque harmony, he prowls. Each step melts the stone beneath him, his body twisting in molten agony, every breath thick with burning despair as he hunts for you.
The Forsaken Warden on @rodeodotclub 🔥
The Forsaken Warden on @rodeodotclub 🔥
This is the Gate, where all masks shatter and every will breaks; unless your soul is pure, which is impossible in these times. And so, we will crawl like beasts, bearing the weight of our sins, as we try to pass under the Keeper’s watchful gaze that tears at our skin.
The Gate on @rodeodotclub 🔥
The Gate on @rodeodotclub 🔥
You can have anything, if you're willing to sacrifice. The words echoed from the void. Blinded by his hunger for fame, he accepted without hesitation, yearning to become a renowned author; unaware that this promise would lead to his ultimate destruction.
The Ultimate Sacrifice on @rodeodotclub ■
The Ultimate Sacrifice on @rodeodotclub ■
My Top 9 on @rodeodotclub featuring @befe, @yudho, @rocketgirl, @dorukseymen, @bitart001, and others
In the small town called Hope's End, life was quiet and uneventful. But all of that changed one night when an UFO appeared in the sky above the town.
https://foundation.app/mint/eth/0xFA8908772D393b8c1769299B151cF08bD5c128e9/4
https://foundation.app/mint/eth/0xFA8908772D393b8c1769299B151cF08bD5c128e9/4
I heard whispers in the pitch black, secrets of cosmic significance hidden beyond the veil of the future, awaiting those bold enough to seek answers from the Disciple of Fate.
https://foundation.app/mint/eth/0x1722B2fb080d2a9227E3ae7da1618fFba23AB0EB/4
https://foundation.app/mint/eth/0x1722B2fb080d2a9227E3ae7da1618fFba23AB0EB/4
GMgm ■
Life will always place towering mountains before us, seemingly immovable, demanding our courage to ascend. But remember; our passion is the staff that illuminates our path, and our imagination, the spells we weave against the storm. With these, no trial can break us.
Life will always place towering mountains before us, seemingly immovable, demanding our courage to ascend. But remember; our passion is the staff that illuminates our path, and our imagination, the spells we weave against the storm. With these, no trial can break us.
My Top 9 on @rodeodotclub featuring @eirrann.eth, @gogolitus, @speakingtomato, @befe, @deconstruct, and others 🤍
GMgm ■
The youngest of the Cursed Sisters, she bears the mark of 333; a symbol of chaotic balance. As the harbinger of finality, she wields a cursed doll and commands an army of enchanted effigies. Together, they are the Ancient and Eternal Triad of Chaos.
The youngest of the Cursed Sisters, she bears the mark of 333; a symbol of chaotic balance. As the harbinger of finality, she wields a cursed doll and commands an army of enchanted effigies. Together, they are the Ancient and Eternal Triad of Chaos.
GMgm ■
A love spell, a doll, and just a few too many drops of swamp water; now look at her. Instead of hearts, she collects souls. Her staff crackles with chaotic energy, and her cursed doll giggles at midnight. So, kids, think twice before dabbling in Voodoo!
A love spell, a doll, and just a few too many drops of swamp water; now look at her. Instead of hearts, she collects souls. Her staff crackles with chaotic energy, and her cursed doll giggles at midnight. So, kids, think twice before dabbling in Voodoo!
Thank you dor adding me in this list erikx 🤍
Loading...
GMgm ■
She is no mere child but a Muse of Malediction, her power a blasphemy against the natural order. Her youthful visage is fractured into many faces, each etched with the infernal mark of 999, a sigil of chaos. Her only friend is a cursed doll, bound to her for eternity.
She is no mere child but a Muse of Malediction, her power a blasphemy against the natural order. Her youthful visage is fractured into many faces, each etched with the infernal mark of 999, a sigil of chaos. Her only friend is a cursed doll, bound to her for eternity.
GMgm ■
His pride swallowed by the abyss of time; the blade at his side, once a symbol of conquest, now weighs heavier than his soul. He remembers the lives he claimed, the glory he pursued, all of it now hollow. And so he waits, longing for an absolution that will never come.
His pride swallowed by the abyss of time; the blade at his side, once a symbol of conquest, now weighs heavier than his soul. He remembers the lives he claimed, the glory he pursued, all of it now hollow. And so he waits, longing for an absolution that will never come.
