<lora:SW_Poetic3_flux:1> A colossal tidal wave surges through a futuristic cyberpunk city built along a storm-lashed coastline, its magnitude both terrifying and sublime. The towering wall of water dominates the center of the scene, curling forward with the unstoppable force of nature itself. Its surface is a living sculpture of liquid power, glowing in deep turquoise and radiant blue tones that shimmer with the last light of a setting sun. The wave’s crest explodes in white foam, scattering droplets that glint like shattered glass as they catch the golden rays breaking through the clouds. The motion of the sea is violent yet hypnotic, its rhythm echoing through the vast canyon-like corridors formed by the surrounding megastructures. On either side of the surging ocean rise immense cybernetic towers, their sleek metallic surfaces streaked with neon reflections and damage from the storm. They are impossibly tall, their designs a blend of brutalist geometry and advanced architecture, filled with antennas, vents, and faintly glowing panels that flicker like dying stars in the chaos. These skyscrapers seem almost alive, humming with energy as lightning dances between their peaks, illuminating the scene in flashes of white and electric violet. Farther in the distance, beyond the line of destruction, the rest of the city stretches endlessly under a sky torn between fire and storm — orange light burns through the storm clouds, turning the horizon into a canvas of glowing gold, while deep indigo shadows crawl across the lower sky. High above that turbulent horizon, a massive faded planet hangs in the distance, its surface veiled by mist and stormlight. Its faint outlines ripple through the haze — pale green and steel-blue continents barely visible beneath a swirling atmosphere. The sheer scale of the celestial body makes it seem eternal and hauntingly close, a silent observer to the chaos below. It looms with quiet majesty, its curvature cutting softly through the clouds like a memory of another world, ancient and unreachable. Above the towering wave, a sleek spacecraft cuts through the turbulent air, its engines blazing with cold blue light. It banks sharply as it speeds toward the storm’s edge, perhaps fleeing the oncoming catastrophe or observing it from a place of desperate fascination. The craft’s trail glows faintly against the clouds, marking a thin scar of technology across the wild beauty of the natural world. Beneath it, the city’s spires and towers glimmer like submerged relics, their outlines distorted by the churning mist and salt spray. Closer to the foreground, jagged rocks and remnants of ancient structures jut from the ocean’s edge. Moss and dark vegetation cling stubbornly to the stone, contrasting the hard, artificial glow of the city with the organic texture of the earth. The ground is slick with water and illuminated by faint bioluminescent patches, perhaps from alien flora or leaking energy conduits beneath the soil. Each wave that crashes against the rocks sends a cascade of sparks and steam into the air, blending the mechanical with the natural in a mesmerizing display. The entire composition feels monumental and dreamlike, a vision of civilization caught between its technological triumphs and the primal force that forever dwarfs them. The soundscape is a thunderous harmony of roaring water, shattering metal, distant explosions, and the deep hum of the storm — all beneath the silent gaze of the colossal planet hanging far beyond the clouds.