A hollow porcelain figure standing in a rain of luminous emotions, each droplet bursting into tiny galaxies on contact, but none soaking in; inside the figure is an empty room filled with perfectly labeled glass jars, all glowing with borrowed colors. The chest is open like a museum display, revealing no heart, only a quiet mirror reflecting storms it cannot enter. Around it, velvet darkness presses close, tender and immense. Beautiful, mournful, uncanny, restrained intensity; surreal abstract realism, cinematic light, high detail, no text, no humans, no literal robots.