As the spaceship prepared to land on planet Kuvso, the twenty-two-year-old Emperor from Earth watched the AI soldiers’ line up in preparation to receive him. He had never seen a world where robots ruled and controlled who their Queen married.
This was not what the knight anticipated when the princess said there was a creature hiding in her most treasured rose garden. He’d never seen anything so hideously frightening, but he had a duty and rushed toward the behemoth monster.
A group of soldiers stood in a loose circle, their voices a mix of excitement and nerves. An older, more seasoned soldier offered words of wisdom as they exchanged hopes and fears, forming bonds that would carry them through the journey ahead.
Under the silvery full moon, he held her close, and whispered, “Be mine. Forever.” She gazed at him and saw the centuries of loneliness in his eyes. With a soft kiss, she bound their hearts, sealing a love destined to defy time.
(Image generated in Midjourney with heavy editing in Photoshop CC.)
Tears welled in her eyes as they clung to each other. “You’re home,” she whispered and buried her face in his neck, inhaling the scent of him. He held her as though she were the most precious thing in the world.
(Image generated in Midjourney and edited in Photoshop CC.)
Amidst the salt-kissed breeze, she stood in the courtyard overlooking the sea. Her eyes, ancient and melancholy, traced the horizon where sea met sky. In that quiet moment, she pondered eternity, her heart a tempest of forgotten dreams and lost hopes.
(Image generated in Midjourney and edited in Photoshop CC.)
The city sprawls below, it’s neon-lit streets winding like circuitry. Towering structures of glass and steel loom over the landscape. Their sharp edges softened by flickering holographic displays. The pulse of the city and its infinite possibilities hung in the air.
(Image generated in Midjourney and extended in Photoshop CC.)
In the pouring rain, they stand in the dim alley. She glares at him, eyes filled with tears. “Why did you do it?” she whispers, her voice raw with loss.
He hesitates, jaw clenched. “Survival,” he replies, then walks away into the ashen wasteland.
(Image generated in Leonardo and extended in Photoshop CC.)
“What flowers are these?” the young boy inquired.
“Marigolds. Would you like one for your mother?” The old man held out a marigold, and the boy’s eyes lit up.
“My momma will love it!” the boy exclaimed, taking the marigold.
(Image generated in Copilot and upscaled in Photoshop CC.)
The warrior stands defiantly—eyes locked on the dragon that looms over her. Sword in hand, she calculates her next move. The wind whips through her hair as she assesses the rocky outcrop beneath her feet. She must strike swiftly.
(Image generated in Midjourney and corrected in Photoshop CC and Photoshop Beta.)
The Writing Sparrow 
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