Resin Pulse.

This work delves into the inexorability of fate, the erosion of self, and the silent collapse of will. A figure, once bound to life, is now but a silhouette devoured by encroaching darkness. Its visage has been effaced—fear and uncertainty have contorted it beyond recognition, leaving behind nothing but a wailing supplication that has supplanted its tongue. This cry does not reverberate in sound but quivers through the void, fracturing it from within yet never escaping. The etheric shadow unfurls over its cranium, seeping into vacant ocular hollows, dissolving the last vestiges of identity before subsuming it into a mute eternity.

Fate, unrelenting, draws it into the abyss along a path unwittingly forged—stone upon stone, act upon act, each decision calcifying into inevitability. It never sought this descent, yet no other trajectory remained; its steps had long since solidified into an unbreakable sequence. The hour for defiance has expired, leaving only the vestige of a being ensnared within an unceasing cycle of dissolution, where neither redemption nor reprieve exists.

It is no longer human, but a husk of what once was—charred remnants ossified in absolute airlessness, wracked by the erratic convulsions of its own congealing tar. That viscous matter writhes within, heaving in spasmodic undulations, yet remains entombed within a rigid, petrified shell. No breath is required here—no oxygen needed. It merely smolders, exuding a languid darkness that bleeds into oblivion.

This work is a meditation on the liminality between agency and predestination, on how imperceptible choices inexorably weave into an immutable course. It speaks of lost visages, of forms dissolving into the void, and of voices that persist in calling after them, knowing full well that silence is the only answer.