Contents
About Prompt
- Prompt Type – Scene-by-Scene
- Prompt Platform – Google Veo
- Language – English
- Category – Video/Story
- Prompt Title – VEO 3 Prompt for Artistic Abstract Story – Colors in Chaos
Prompt Details
🎬 Scene 1
The scene opens within an infinite, seamless void of pure, architectural white. There is no discernible floor, ceiling, or walls; only an endless expanse of sterile, shadowless luminosity, like the inside of a bleached bone or a perfectly calibrated light-box. The air itself feels solid yet weightless, utterly silent and still. In the center of this non-space stand Elias and Lyra, their forms the only interruption in the stark minimalism. The whiteness is so absolute it almost feels oppressive, a canvas awaiting a violent first stroke. Suddenly, a hairline fissure, impossibly black, materializes in the fabric of the void before them. It doesn’t crack with a sound, but rather silently asserts its presence, a tear in reality. From this rupture, a single, viscous bead of the most profound crimson begins to emerge. It swells with the slow, deliberate pulse of a beating heart, its surface glossy and wet, reflecting the stark white surroundings in its curved perfection. The colour is not merely red; it is the essence of lifeblood, of raw, untempered emotion. As the droplet grows, it begins to drip, not downwards due to gravity, which seems absent here, but outwards, stretching like warm treacle. The tendril of crimson creeps across the immaculate white surface, staining it with an organic, invasive beauty. It moves with a strange sentience, branching into delicate, vein-like patterns that spiderweb across the void. The light in the space, previously uniform, now catches on the liquid crimson, creating shimmering, mobile highlights that dance and glisten. The contrast is breathtakingly stark: the chaotic, living red against the ordered, sterile white. The very atmosphere of the scene shifts from serene emptiness to one of tense, pregnant anticipation. The air now seems to hum with a low, sub-audible frequency, the vibration of a world beginning to unravel and rewrite its own fundamental laws. Every detail is rendered in hyper-realistic clarity, from the subtle refraction of light within the crimson fluid to the almost imperceptible texture of the white expanse, which now seems less like a void and more like a primed canvas, bracing for the inevitable explosion of chaotic colour.
🎵 Tone: Foreboding
🎬 Scene 2
The crimson has now bled out from its origin point, no longer a delicate tendril but a vast, sprawling delta of living colour. It coats the previously white void in thick, gestural strokes, creating a dynamic landscape of pure pigment. The texture is key here; it’s not a flat colour but a three-dimensional, impasto-like application, with deep grooves, ridges, and peaks that catch the ambient light in a thousand different ways. The paint appears wet and eternally fresh, seeming to writhe and shift with a slow, organic pulse. It’s as if we are inside a colossal abstract expressionist painting at the very moment of its creation. Elias and Lyra are now standing on a small, shrinking island of the original white. The crimson tide advances upon them, not aggressively, but with an inexorable, mesmerizing crawl. Lyra, captivated, kneels at the edge of her pristine white sanctuary. She extends a trembling hand, her long, pale fingers hovering just millimetres above the churning surface of the red. The light from the crimson reflects onto her skin, bathing her face and arm in a warm, sanguine glow that contrasts sharply with her silver hair and indigo dress. Her eyes are wide with a mixture of trepidation and profound wonder. As her fingertips make contact with the substance, ripples emanate outwards from the point of contact, not like water, but like slow-motion shockwaves in a viscous liquid. The colour seems to respond to her touch, swirling into intricate, fractal patterns around her hand before slowly returning to its chaotic churn. The air is thick with the phantom scent of oil paints and damp earth, an olfactory hallucination that completes the sensory immersion. The scene is one of intimate connection with the sublime and terrifying unknown, a baptism into a new, chaotic reality. Elias watches her, his posture rigid with concern, his face a mask of conflict between his instinct to pull her back and his fascination with the impossible event unfolding before him.
🎵 Tone: Wondrous
🎬 Scene 3
A violent eruption of cerulean blue shatters the crimson monopoly. Bursting forth from a new fissure in a different quadrant of the void, this blue is the antithesis of the warm, organic red. It is a deep, cold, and electric hue, the colour of the midnight sea or a digital abyss. It moves not with a slow crawl, but with explosive, energetic force, jetting into the scene like pressurised ink shot into water. The two primary colours collide in a silent, spectacular cataclysm. Where they meet, they don’t simply blend but engage in a violent, swirling battle for dominance. The interface between them is a churning maelstrom of incandescent violet, magenta, and deep indigo, with wisps and tendrils of each pure colour fighting to maintain their integrity. The environment is now completely fluid and unstable. The thick, impasto textures of the red are broken apart by the swift, liquid currents of the blue. The entire space feels submerged, as if Elias and Lyra are suspended in a cosmic jar of marbling ink. Bubbles of pure colour form and burst, releasing puffs of pigmented ‘smoke’ that drift and dissipate. The light is now a chaotic, shifting kaleidoscope, with pockets of intense red glow and cold blue luminescence creating a dynamic, high-contrast chiaroscuro effect that constantly re-sculpts the characters’ features. They are no longer on a white island; the ground beneath them has been consumed, and they now float in the centre of this chromatic tempest, held aloft by an unseen force. They turn slowly, back-to-back, their bodies the only constant in a universe of fluid, abstract chaos. The scale is immense and overwhelming, dwarfing them completely, reinforcing their vulnerability and insignificance in the face of this primordial creative/destructive event. The sheer velocity of the swirling colours creates a sense of vertigo, an exhilarating and terrifying loss of control.
🎵 Tone: Chaotic
🎬 Scene 4
The chromatic storm is pierced by incandescent vectors of pure, solid light. These are not soft beams, but razor-sharp shards of brilliant, metallic gold that slice through the swirling blues and reds with geometric precision. They manifest instantly, like glitches in a digital display or fractures in a sheet of obsidian, creating a stunning juxtaposition of the organic, fluid chaos and a new, rigid, crystalline order. Each shard is intensely bright, seeming to burn with its own internal energy, and they hum with a high-frequency, electrical resonance. They appear at random angles, crisscrossing the void and creating a complex, three-dimensional lattice that traps and refracts the moving colours. Where a shard of gold light passes through a wave of crimson, it casts a long, sharp-edged shadow of absolute blackness behind it, while simultaneously illuminating the fluid’s internal structure, revealing mesmerizing, microscopic eddies and currents within the pigment. The scene transforms into a breathtakingly complex interplay of light, colour, and shadow. Elias instinctively raises an arm to shield his eyes from a particularly bright shard that materializes directly in front of him. The golden light is so intense it bleaches the colour from his skin and clothes, rendering him momentarily in stark monochrome silhouette. The air crackles with static electricity. The shards are not stationary; they move with slow, deliberate purpose, sliding and rotating through the space, their movements altering the entire composition of the scene from moment to moment. They act like prisms, catching the swirling colours and splitting them into their constituent spectra, casting fleeting, spectral rainbows across the characters’ faces. The atmosphere is now one of dangerous, crystalline beauty—like being inside a geode during a supernova. The scale feels even more cosmic and incomprehensible, suggesting the presence of a higher, mathematical intelligence imposing its will upon the primal chaos of the colours.
🎵 Tone: Awe-inspiring
🎬 Scene 5
The chaotic ballet of colour and light undergoes another radical transformation. The floor—or what passed for it—dissolves completely. The swirling reds and blues drain away as if pulled down a cosmic plughole, but instead of revealing the original white void, they give way to an utterly profound and velvety abyss of the deepest emerald green. This isn’t a liquid or a gas; it is a space of pure, saturated colour, a void that feels both infinitely deep and softly textured, like ancient moss or crushed velvet. It absorbs light, creating an atmosphere of deep, peaceful twilight. Elias and Lyra now find themselves standing on a small, circular platform of the original, pristine white, a stark island floating in the centre of the emerald sea of nothingness. The platform is shrinking, its edges softly eroding and dissolving into the green abyss, forcing them closer together. They are now face-to-face, their proximity creating an intimate, focused moment amidst the vast, silent expanse. The golden shards from the previous scene have vanished, and the only light source is a soft, diffuse luminescence that seems to emanate from the white platform itself, casting their features in a gentle, flattering glow. This light does not penetrate the emerald darkness, which seems to swallow it just beyond the platform’s edge. The mood shifts from chaotic and overwhelming to quiet, contemplative, and suspenseful. The silence is profound, broken only by the faintest whisper, like the sound of sand pouring, as the edges of their island slowly disintegrate. This scene is a bottle episode within the chaos, a moment of forced intimacy and shared vulnerability. The focus is entirely on their expressions, the subtle shift in their posture, the way they look at each other, realizing that for this moment, they are all the other has in this beautiful, terrifying, and incomprehensible new world.
🎵 Tone: Suspenseful
🎬 Scene 6
The quiet intimacy of the emerald abyss shatters into a full-blown Abstract Expressionist tempest. In a blink, the scene explodes into a Jackson Pollock-esque frenzy of colour and motion. There is no up or down, no solid ground, only a three-dimensional canvas being assaulted from all directions by a symphony of hues. The crimson, cerulean, gold, and emerald are all present, but now they are joined by a cacophony of new colours: virulent cadmium yellow, electric magenta, deep phthalo green, and stark titanium white. These colours don’t flow; they are flung, splattered, dripped, and slashed across the void with incredible force and energy. Long, looping skeins of liquid paint fly through the space like comets. Explosive bursts of splattered colour detonate like fireworks. Thick, gestural strokes of impasto materialize and then wipe away, replaced by delicate, web-like drips. Elias and Lyra are caught in the heart of this creative hurricane. They are no longer floating but are tossed and turned by the currents of paint, their bodies buffeted by waves of liquid colour. Droplets and streaks of pigment lash across their clothes and skin, staining Elias’s charcoal sweater with a slash of yellow and Lyra’s pale face with a speckle of blue. They are part of the painting now, their forms becoming integrated into the chaotic composition. The experience is utterly overwhelming and disorienting, a sensory overload of the highest order. The light is frantic, flickering and changing with every new splash of colour, casting strobing, multi-hued shadows that dance and writhe. The sheer density of visual information is staggering; the eye has no place to rest. This is the apex of the chaos, the moment where form and narrative are completely dissolved into pure, raw, emotional expression through the medium of colour and texture. It is terrifying, yes, but also undeniably, breathtakingly alive and vibrant.
🎵 Tone: Overwhelming
🎬 Scene 7
From the heart of the raging, chromatic storm, a pocket of impossible stillness emerges. The chaotic frenzy of splattering paint does not simply stop; it actively pulls away, receding to form the walls of a small, spherical cocoon of calm. Inside this bubble, the frantic noise is muffled to a distant, gentle roar, and the riot of colour is replaced by a single, soft, warm, uniform light, the colour of a ripe peach or a gentle dawn. The air within this sanctuary is still and warm. Elias and Lyra drift slowly towards the centre of this space, their chaotic tumbling brought to a gentle halt. They are face-to-face once more, floating weightlessly. The paint that had splattered them is gone, their clothes and skin returned to their pristine state. They are suspended in this serene, glowing orb, with the maelstrom of creation visible but muted through the translucent, peach-coloured walls of their refuge. It’s like being in the eye of a hurricane, a moment of profound peace and clarity amidst utter chaos. They reach out for each other, not in panic, but with a slow, deliberate tenderness. Their hands meet and their fingers intertwine. The focus of the scene is entirely on this simple, human connection. The camera lingers on their hands, then moves to their faces. The look they share is one of deep, unspoken understanding. They have weathered the storm together, and in this quiet moment, they find their true anchor not in any physical reality, but in each other. All the fear and disorientation has melted away, replaced by a sense of profound relief and affection. The soft, peachy light is incredibly flattering, smoothing their features and giving them an almost beatific glow. This is the emotional climax of their journey—the discovery that even within the most overwhelming chaos, a space for connection and peace can be found.
🎵 Tone: Serene
🎬 Scene 8
The peach-coloured bubble gently dissolves, not with a pop, but by its warm light expanding outwards, pacifying the storm. The frantic, splattering chaos does not vanish or revert to white; instead, it settles. The flying skeins of paint slow down, the violent splashes soften, and all the disparate colours begin to coalesce and harmonize. The scene transforms into the final, finished canvas. Elias and Lyra now stand on a solid, tangible surface that appears to be made of an amalgamation of all the colours they have witnessed. It is a vast, complex, and beautiful texture, like a cross-section of a planet made of paint, with layers of crimson, swirls of cerulean, veins of gold, and depths of emerald all locked together in a stable, breathtaking composition. The space around them is no longer a void but a textured sky, reminiscent of a Mark Rothko painting, with soft, horizontal bands of deep purple fading into a soft, warm orange at an unseen horizon. The lighting is now serene and majestic, like the golden hour after a storm has passed. The air is calm and clear. They stand together, side-by-side, holding hands, no longer observers or victims of the chaos, but inhabitants of this new, vibrant reality. They are not looking at each other anymore, but are looking out together at the horizon of their new world. They have been fundamentally changed by their journey, and their posture reflects this. There is a quiet confidence, an acceptance of the beautifully unpredictable nature of their existence. The camera slowly pulls back, revealing more and more of the impossibly vast and beautiful abstract landscape they now occupy. They become smaller and smaller figures within the grand composition, a testament to their journey and their place within the art they have survived and helped create. The final image is one of profound peace, resolution, and awe-inspiring beauty.
🎵 Tone: Uplifting