(EN -Texte français en dessous-) Title: Khel Vox - Initiator of the Final Chant
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose: Make it understood that the instant the chant is perceived marks the definitive disappearance of doubt, the end imposing itself immediately as an integrated certainty impossible to dismiss.
The first occurrence was recorded as an auditory anomaly. A unique vibration, with no precise identification. This sound does not pass through the air. It appears directly in the inner ear of those who are concerned. At first, some tried to burst their eardrums to escape it. Observation was quick… It was useless.
Khel Vox never manifests physically. No one can claim to have seen him. His presence is inferred solely through his chant, a rough buzzing that settles in the head of those who are designated.
From the moment the first note is perceived, every second becomes accountable. Some continue to talk. Others walk. A few still laugh. None are mistaken about the outcome. They do not know the exact moment, but they know it will happen.
They know their end is near, because Khel Vox - the Initiator of the Final Chant - is not feared for what he does. He is dreaded for what he communicates. The end ceases to be a hypothesis. It becomes a received datum, integrated, impossible to ignore.
The disappearance of the chant has never been considered a reassuring symptom. When the buzzing stops, no subject reports relief. Most do not even have time to formulate a hypothesis.
Because Khel Vox does not kill, he only signals. And when the signal disappears, the package has already been collected.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - Knowing has never saved anyone.
Image available for sale on Deviant Art: https://www.deviantart.com/throlhaartkor/
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Image created with Midjourney by Thröl Haartkor on 2025-12-23
Content of the pack:
1 Original (Khel Vox - Initiator of the Final Chant.png | 2048x1147 | 16:9)
2 Upscales (_UPSCALE_x2.5 | 5120x2867 + _UPSCALE_x5 | 10240x5735)
Fiche_Produit.txt
(FR) Titre: Khel Vox - Initiateur du Chant Final
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Nom: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
But: Faire comprendre que l’instant où le chant est perçu marque la disparition définitive du doute, la fin s’imposant aussitôt comme une certitude intégrée et impossible à écarter.
La première occurrence a été consignée comme une anomalie auditive. Une vibration unique, sans identification précise. Ce son ne passe pas par l’air. Il apparaît directement dans l’oreille interne de ceux qui sont concernés. Au début, certains ont tenté de se crever les tympans pour y échapper. L’observation a été rapide… Cela n’a servi à rien.
Khel Vox ne se manifeste jamais physiquement. Personne ne peut prétendre l’avoir vu. Sa présence se déduit uniquement par son chant, un bourdonnement rauque qui s’installe dans la tête de ceux qui sont désignés.
À partir du moment où la première note est perçue, chaque seconde devient comptable. Certains continuent à parler. D’autres marchent. Quelques-uns rient encore. Aucun ne se trompe sur l’issue. Ils ignorent le moment exact, mais ils savent que cela va arriver.
Ils savent que leur fin est proche, car Khel Vox - L'initiateur du Chant Final - n’est pas craint pour ce qu’il fait. Il est redouté pour ce qu’il communique. La fin cesse d’être une hypothèse. Elle devient une donnée reçue, intégrée, impossible à ignorer.
La disparition du chant n’a jamais été considérée comme un symptôme rassurant. Lorsque le bourdonnement cesse, aucun sujet ne rapporte de soulagement. La plupart n’ont même pas le temps de formuler une hypothèse.
Car Khel Vox ne tue pas, il ne fait que signaler. Et quand le signal disparaît, c’est que le colis a déjà été récupéré.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - Savoir n’a jamais sauvé personne.
(EN -Texte français en dessous-) Title: Commanded by His Worst Impulses
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose: Expose a nameless leader whose every choice, validated by Ambition and Stupidity, turned his reign into an endless farce everyone wants to see disappear.
Prompt (This one's a gift): A global race for money that has become absurd and grotesque
No one remembers his name anymore, not because it was complicated, but because human memory sometimes has a survival instinct. This guy existed as a living warning, a painful reminder of what happens when an individual confuses stubbornness with intelligence.
He ruled guided by two perfectly synchronized inner voices, Ambition and Stupidity, a solid, loyal duo, incapable of contradicting each other, always ready to choose the most catastrophic option with admirably idiotic enthusiasm. Ambition whispered to him that he deserved everything, Stupidity validated every impulse without asking questions, and the whole produced a series of decisions as disastrous as they were predictable.
By constantly watching himself think, he ended up believing himself exceptional, almost divine, convinced that the world owed recognition to his supposed greatness. Seen from the outside, nothing majestic, only a prolonged demonstration of smugness and blindness, a caricature that took itself seriously.
Time turned this reign into an endless farce, not the kind that amuses, but the kind that drags on too long, that exhausts, that makes you want to look away while waiting for it to finally stop. No one was laughing anymore, no one was applauding, everyone was just waiting for the end, with that mute weariness reserved for bad acts.
What he will leave behind deserves neither tribute nor nostalgia. His passage resembles those obscene jokes thrown out by a greasy, perpetually drunk uncle during a family meal, the kind that freeze the table, soil the moment, and lodge themselves in your head despite yourself. Not a memory to cherish, but an embarrassment you would like to erase, a moment you would rather never have lived.
That is his real legacy, a long failed joke, too insistent, that one hopes to see disappear without a trace, as if it had never existed.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - A joke that drags on too long deserves a brutal ending.
Image available for sale on Deviant Art: https://www.deviantart.com/throlhaartkor/
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Image created with Midjourney by Thröl Haartkor on 2025-12-23
Content of the pack:
1 Original (Commanded by His Worst Impulses.png | 2048x1147 | 16:9)
2 Upscales (_UPSCALE_x2.5 | 5120x2867 + _UPSCALE_x5 | 10240x5735)
Fiche_Produit.txt
(FR) Titre: Commandé par ses Pires Pulsions
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Nom: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
But: Exposer un dirigeant sans nom dont chaque choix, validés par Ambition et Stupidité, a transformé son règne en farce interminable que tout le monde voudrait voir disparaître.
Prompt (Celle là c'est cadeau): A global race for money that has become absurd and grotesque
On ne se souvient plus de son nom, non parce qu’il était compliqué, mais parce que la mémoire humaine a parfois un instinct de survie. Ce type-là a existé comme un avertissement vivant, un rappel pénible de ce qui arrive quand un individu confond obstination et intelligence.
Il dirigeait guidé par deux voix intérieures parfaitement coordonnées, Ambition et Stupidité, un duo solide, fidèle, incapable de se contredire, toujours prêt à choisir l’option la plus catastrophique avec un enthousiasme admirablement idiot. Ambition lui murmurait qu’il méritait tout, Stupidité validait chaque pulsion sans poser de questions, et l’ensemble produisait une suite de décisions aussi désastreuses que prévisibles.
À force de se regarder penser, il a fini par se croire exceptionnel, presque divin, convaincu que le monde devait reconnaître sa grandeur supposée. Vu de l’extérieur, rien de majestueux, seulement une démonstration prolongée de suffisance et d’aveuglement, une caricature qui se prenait au sérieux.
Le temps a transformé ce règne en une farce interminable, pas celle qui amuse, mais celle qui s’étire trop, qui fatigue, qui donne envie de regarder ailleurs en attendant que ça s’arrête enfin. Plus personne ne riait, plus personne n’applaudissait, tout le monde attendait juste la fin, avec cette lassitude muette qu’on réserve aux mauvais numéros.
Ce qu’il laissera derrière lui ne mérite ni hommage ni nostalgie. Son passage ressemble à ces plaisanteries obscènes lancées par un oncle poisseux et toujours ivre lors d’un repas de famille, celles qui glacent la table, salissent l’instant et s’incrustent dans la tête malgré soi. Pas un souvenir qu’on chérit, mais une gêne qu’on aimerait effacer, un moment qu’on préférerait n’avoir jamais vécu.
Voilà son héritage réel, une longue blague ratée, trop insistante, qu’on espère voir disparaître sans trace, comme si elle n’avait jamais existé.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V – Une blague trop longue mérite une fin brutale.
(EN -Texte français en dessous-) Title: Rainbow, The Most Beautiful Fish of Hell
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Name: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
Purpose: Sabotage the children’s tale "Rainbow, the most beautiful fish in the ocean" by turning it into a black fable, where brilliance no longer serves to teach sharing but to ridicule ego and fake superiority.
Inspired by the children’s tale "Rainbow, The Most Beautiful Fish in the Ocean"
Rainbow the little fish gleams, it blinks, it begs for the gaze like a beggar covered in glitter. Impossible to miss its trajectory, it saturates the water with garish colors, it turns itself into a living neon sign. Every scale screams “look at me” with the finesse of a truck horn. The more it shines, the less credible it is. But it does not care, it strokes its ego with reflections, convinced that brightness makes the law, that light exempts it from any other form of decency.
It swims with its chest puffed out, its brain on permanent pause, convinced that the world is a rigged contest where it is enough to be more visible than the others to win. The other fish become scenery, extras, aquatic furniture meant to confirm its imaginary superiority. Share? Obscene word. Step aside? Personal insult. It prefers to sink deeper into lies, to trade its flesh for bling, to disguise the scheme as personal merit. Everything is good to stay above the others, even when the others do not give a damn.
The comedy becomes grotesque when it starts ruining itself just to stay shiny. Each scale torn off is replaced by another, more eye-catching, more expensive, more shiny. It steals, it cheats, it lies with the poise of a goldsmith, convinced that no one will see the rot as long as it sparkles. This fish confuses the envy it provokes with respect, jealousy with admiration, visual noise with any kind of greatness.
By constantly confusing brightness with value, Rainbow ends up being nothing more than a parasitic signal, too visible to be believed, too hollow to be followed. Its colors impress no one anymore. The looks it was chasing become looks that avoid it. And it stays there, prisoner of its own chromatic racket, incapable of existing without overexposing itself, incapable of understanding that shining to mask emptiness has never led anywhere.
The water keeps circulating, indifferent, while its act dissolves, leaving behind a cruel obvious truth: those who bet everything on appearance end up alone with a negative balance.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - It takes a lot of light to mask the absence of depth.
Image available for sale on Deviant Art: https://www.deviantart.com/throlhaartkor/
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Image created with Midjourney by Thröl Haartkor on 2025-12-21
Content of the pack:
1 Original (Rainbow, The Most Beautiful Fish of Hell.png | 2048x1147 | 16:9)
2 Upscales (_UPSCALE_x2.5 | 5120x2867 + _UPSCALE_x5 | 10240x5735)
Fiche_Produit.txt
(FR) Titre: Arc-en-ciel, Le Plus Beau Poisson de l'Enfer
Version: GPT 5 Custom/Midjourney V7 | Nom: Thröl Haartkor Mk V
But: Saboter le conte pour enfants "Arc-en-ciel, le plus beau poisson de l’océan" en le transformant en fable noire, où la brillance ne sert plus à apprendre le partage mais à ridiculiser l’ego et la supériorité factice.
Inspiré par le conte pour enfants "Arc-en-ciel, Le Plus Beau Poisson de l'Ocean"
Arc-en-ciel le petit poisson luit, il clignote, il supplie le regard comme un mendiant couvert de paillettes. Impossible de rater sa trajectoire, il sature l’eau à coups de couleurs criardes, il se fait enseigne lumineuse vivante. Chaque écaille hurle « regarde moi » avec la finesse d’un klaxon de poids lourd. Plus il brille, moins il est crédible. Mais il s’en fout, il se caresse l’ego à coups de reflets, persuadé que l’éclat fait la loi, que la lumière dispense de toute autre forme de décence.
Il nage le torse bombé, le cerveau en pause permanente, convaincu que le monde est un concours truqué où il suffit d’être plus voyant que les autres pour gagner. Les autres poissons deviennent du décor, de la figuration, du mobilier aquatique destiné à confirmer sa supériorité imaginaire. Partager ? Mot obscène. S’effacer ? Insulte personnelle. Il préfère s’enfoncer dans les mensonges, troquer sa chair contre du clinquant, maquiller la combine en mérite personnel. Tout est bon pour rester au-dessus des autres, même quand les autres n'on ont rien à foutre.
La comédie devient grotesque quand il commence à se ruiner lui-même pour rester brillant. Chaque écaille arrachée est remplacée par une autre, plus voyante, plus chère, plus brillante. Il vole, il triche, il ment avec un aplomb d’orfèvre, persuadé que personne ne verra la pourriture tant qu’il scintille. Ce poisson confond l’envie qu’il provoque avec du respect, la jalousie avec de l’admiration, le vacarme visuel avec une quelconque grandeur.
À force de confondre l’éclat avec la valeur, Arc-en-ciel finit par n’être plus qu’un signal parasite, trop voyant pour être cru, trop creux pour être suivi. Ses couleurs n'impressionnent plus personne. Les regards qu’il cherchait deviennent des regards qui l’évitent. Et lui, reste là, prisonnier de son propre tapage chromatique, incapable d’exister sans se surexposer, incapable de comprendre que briller pour masquer le vide n’a jamais mené nulle part.
L’eau continue de circuler, indifférente, pendant que son numéro se dissout, laissant derrière lui une évidence cruelle : ceux qui misent tout sur l’apparence finissent seuls avec leur solde négatif.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - Il faut beaucoup de lumière pour masquer l’absence de fond.
The image "Mental Refuge" by Thröl Haartkor, created using AI and custom moodboards, blends past and recent styles to generate a unique visual aesthetic, available for purchase on Deviant Art.
This AI-generated image, "Memory of the Rocks," blends past artworks and recent algorithms to establish a unique visual style, emphasizing collaboration between AI and human creativity.
They come in masses. Too many to think, enough to crush, eyes burned out by the light they claim to seek. A compact crowd, demanding silence the way order is demanded. They move forward packed tight, disciplined by fear, convinced that silence is a natural rule, like gravity or collective cowardice. They demand that Thröl shut up, because the fact that he is still speaking reminds them that they gave up.
At the center, the house is still standing, one window lit like a simple, brutal refusal. On the rise, Thröl raises his torch. Not to call for gathering, but to signal that he will not retreat.
Thröl has ideas. They cut. They crease the flesh of consensus.
They rarely please, never enough, often not at all.
Good. He holds them to the end, because a word dropped halfway becomes an excuse, and Thröl does not manufacture those. He speaks straight, without asking permission.
Around him, the world grinds and demands to be muted. He answers with the fire of words.
The choir loves to gag whatever sticks out, but do not try to silence him. Thröl has no device for conformity. If they clench their jaws, he tightens his grip on the torch. If they raise walls of rules, he carves his theses into them with a chisel.
And if the network rears up, if the wires have to be set on fire for the idea to pass through, then it will burn.
Alone against the world, yes. But alone does not mean fragile. Alone means without a leash.
The torch spits red, the night steps back once, the herd blinks… No one leaves the ranks. Thröl moves forward, and every step is an additional refusal to shut up.
Thröl Haartkor Mk V - Silence is for hiding. I prefer to stay visible, even when it burns.
A neuron reflects on the morning after an alcohol-fueled night, observing its peers' collective denial while the body suffers the consequences. Morning amnesia is revealed as a conscious choice.
The content critiques how rebranding plastic as "bio-sourced" has trapped the planet in waste, resulting in a stagnant environment. It emphasizes that renaming issues doesn't eliminate their consequences, highlighting humanity's failure.
A neuron embarks on a journey, realizing that memories never truly disappear but instead persist within the subconscious, leading to a chaotic existence without resolution or escape from the past.
The image "Afterparty Vibes" by Thröl Haartkor, created through AI and customized moodboards, merges past and present styles, showcasing a unique visual signature for sale on Deviant Art.
