Artist's commentary
Sadness is my enemy; I fear time will age him gently.
Image Description
The city falls quiet as the last of the twilight is snuffed by the smoke rising from the ruin. Seyfried's face, moments ago a contorted mask of rage, now sits still, frozen, the only light left coming from the glow of dying flames in the wreckage he left behind, and what little remains of that manages to climb into the smog and get trapped inside.
Cinders fly past, and a hand, aged and adorned with precious stones set in gold rings, reaches up and cups the man's cheek, but his eyes remain unfocused and distant.
The Automaton King kneels amidst Armoroad's ruined streets, defeated and unresponsive; unreachable to the old woman.
Still, through the sting of her tears, and the heat and particulate blown in the breeze, Flowdia maintains her gaze on his lifeless vestige.

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