In a moonlit graveyard of forgotten kingdoms, a fallen bride lies in her torn silver gown, her hand trembling as she holds a blade against the snout of a colossal dragon whose eyes glow like molten sorrow. The dragon’s breath curls around her like smoke, not in rage but in grief — a creature torn between destruction and devotion. Around them, wilted roses and shattered armor glimmer faintly in the mist. The night sky swirls with ghostly blue and violet hues, illuminating the contrast between fragile humanity and ancient power.
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