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A lone figure stands in a fog-shrouded, abandoned playground at twilight, rusted swings creaking in the wind. Their silhouette is backlit by a cold, distant streetlamp, casting long shadows across overgrown grass and cracked asphalt. The figure faces a faint, glowing doorway hovering where the slide used to be, its light warping the air like heat haze. Their posture is tense—one hand half-raised in hesitation, the other clutching a child’s faded teddy bear. Wisps of fog curl around their boots, and scattered autumn leaves hang frozen mid-fall, amplifying the eerie stillness. The scene balances intrusion and invitation, drenched in muted blues and sickly golds.
