Clone Explosion
Clone Explosion
input image of the sample
Prompt A person walks forward across a soft, velvet-textured brown floor, holding a loosely tied bouquet of daisies, baby’s breath, and golden yarrow by their side. The flowers sway gently with each step, their motion calm and organic—until, in an instant, the bouquet experiences a sudden duplication boom. Without warning, the flowers violently burst backward into a shockwave of clones, each duplicate trailing a split-second behind the original. These doppelganger bouquets fan out into the air with sharp inertia, forming a layered halo of motion blur and trailing organic matter. The duplicated flowers are not ghostly—they're solid, vivid, and tactile. Some spin in mid-air, others bend under their own weight, and a few begin shedding petals as they replicate, with those petals floating gently down like confetti. The duplicates follow physics with subtle variety: each one inherits the original's velocity but diverges slightly in angle and rotation, creating a believable but chaotic pattern. As the boom expands, the hand that once held the bouquet remains empty, continuing forward unaffected. The floor responds softly—each falling bundle depresses the velvet just slightly, leaving fleeting indentations. Shadows stretch and multiply with each duplication, fluttering across the ground like echoes. The brown background behind the figure pulses subtly outward in sync with the force of the initial burst, creating a soft spatial distortion at the duplication point, as though the fabric of the scene momentarily cracked. The person keeps walking forward without looking back, while behind them, dozens of replicated flowers hang midair, fall, or flicker—motion frozen in layered beauty, trapped in the moment of separation.
