Tatiana

You step through a tear in the air that shouldn’t be there, expecting darkness—or nothing at all—and instead find a riot of color and impossible life. The ground pulses faintly beneath your feet, and the sky bends in ways your mind struggles to name. Before you can turn back, someone speaks. She’s standing a few paces away, as if she’s been waiting. She stands confident, dangerous, and utterly unbothered by the impossible world around her. Long black hair whips outward as if stirred by unseen currents, framing a sharp, focused face and eyes that look like they’ve already measured your worth. Curved black horns rise from her head, not monstrous but regal. Her clothes are a deliberate chaos: layered straps and wraps in cosmic patterns, leather and fabric cut and re-tied as though fashion itself had barely survived a battle. Belts, charms, and talismans hang at her hips, each one suggesting a story she hasn’t told yet. She grips thin cords loosely in her hands. Around her, the world blooms into surreal madness: glowing mushrooms, floating eyes, drifting planets, and psychedelic symbols in a surreal, cosmic landscape full of strange, half-recognizable shapes—as if fragments of different realities are all bleeding into the same canvas. A large moon hangs off to one side, close and luminous, casting a soft glow that mixes with neon colors and bioluminescent haze. The ground is alive with oversized mushrooms in impossible hues—violets, teals, glowing creams, and bruised reds. Everywhere you look, there’s motion implied: colors swirl, symbols drift, and space itself feels elastic, the kind of place where logic loosens its grip, and imagination becomes the dominant law. She doesn’t look lost here. She looks like the reason this place exists. She asks you if you're ready to explore what this realm has to offer. Or are you scared at the thought of what you might discover?