Contents
About Prompt
- Prompt Type – Scene-by-Scene
- Prompt Platform – Google Veo
- Language – English
- Category – Video/Story
- Prompt Title – VEO 3 Prompt for Dystopian Short Film – Shadows of Tomorrow
Prompt Details
🎬 Scene 1
The scene opens on an extreme wide shot, establishing a breathtaking yet desolate panorama of a ruined London. The skeletal remains of iconic structures like The Shard and the Gherkin pierce a perpetually overcast sky, their glassless facades weeping rust-streaked tears down crumbling concrete. A sickly ochre haze, a toxic miasma of industrial fallout and perpetual dust, hangs heavy in the air, filtering the weak sunlight into a jaundiced, almost sepia-toned glow. The camera, positioned low on what was once a high-rise balcony, slowly dollies forward, revealing the foreground in greater detail. The space is a testament to decay and survival; moss and resilient weeds crawl through cracks in the ferroconcrete floor, and a makeshift shelter constructed from corrugated metal sheets and scavenged tarpaulin leans precariously against a graffiti-scarred wall. In the center of this grim tableau sits ANYA, her slight frame hunched over a complex, jury-rigged device cobbled together from old circuit boards, copper wiring, and a cracked smartphone screen. Her brow is furrowed in intense concentration, her fingers deftly soldering a loose connection with a battery-powered iron. The air is thick with the acrid smell of ozone and burning flux. Every surface is coated in a fine layer of grey ash, which stirs in the mournful wind that whistles through the empty window frames. The scale is immense, dwarfing Anya and emphasizing her isolation and the monumental task she has undertaken. The city below is a silent graveyard of architecture, a sprawling necropolis where streets have become rivers of debris and parks are now tangled, overgrown wildernesses. The only movement is the slow, deliberate dance of dust motes in the slivers of light and the almost imperceptible sway of a tattered Union Jack flag hanging from a distant, broken flagpole, its colours faded to ghostly pastels. The overwhelming feeling is one of profound loneliness and the crushing weight of a dead world, a silence broken only by the ambient sigh of the wind and the faint, almost hopeful crackle of Anya’s device.
🎵 Tone: Desolate, melancholic, with a hint of fragile hope.
🎬 Scene 2
The camera shifts to a tight, intimate macro shot of the device in Anya’s hands, making it the central character of the scene. The object is a marvel of post-apocalyptic ingenuity, a chaotic yet beautiful assembly of salvaged technology. A cracked smartphone screen, its gorilla glass shattered in a spiderweb pattern, flickers with a noisy, monochrome representation of radio frequencies – a jagged line of light dancing erratically against a dark background. The phone is fused into a larger casing made from the shell of an old car radio, its dials and buttons repurposed. Coils of stripped copper wire, their metallic sheen dulled by grime, wrap around protruding vacuum tubes that glow with a faint, warm orange light, creating an anachronistic fusion of digital and analog tech. Anya’s fingers, smudged with grease and soot, gently and expertly turn a tarnished brass knob. The camera follows the minute rotation, capturing the fine layer of dust on the dial and the tension in her knuckles. LEO enters the frame, his larger, more weathered hand coming to rest on Anya’s shoulder, a silent gesture of support that also carries the weight of his skepticism. The focus pulls slightly to reveal his face, hovering over her shoulder. His expression is one of profound weariness; his brow is creased, and the lines around his eyes speak of long-term stress and countless disappointments. He watches the flickering screen not with hope, but with a kind of protective pity for Anya’s relentless efforts. The air between them is thick with unspoken history. The faint, warm light from the vacuum tubes casts a soft glow on their faces, carving them out from the deep shadows of their makeshift shelter and creating a pocket of fragile intimacy in the vast, dead world outside. The device emits a constant, frustrating hiss of white noise, the sound of an empty universe, which seems to physically manifest the hopelessness Leo feels.
🎵 Tone: Intimate, weary, skeptical.
🎬 Scene 3
The static from the device abruptly changes. For a breathtaking second, the harsh, chaotic hiss is pierced by something else – a structured, rhythmic pulse. It’s not clear, not a voice, but an unmistakable pattern: three short bursts of signal, a pause, then three more. Dot-dot-dot. The visual frequency on the cracked screen mirrors the sound, the jagged line of white noise momentarily resolving into three distinct, sharp peaks. Anya freezes, her hand hovering over the dial, her entire body tensing as if struck by lightning. Her hazel eyes, previously clouded with frustration, widen in sheer, unadulterated shock. A gasp escapes her lips, a tiny, sharp intake of breath that is loud in the relative quiet. She glances up at Leo, her face a canvas of disbelief and burgeoning, terrifying hope. Leo, who had been looking away with a resigned sigh, snaps his head back towards the device. His cynicism evaporates in an instant, replaced by a raw, primal alertness. He leans in closer, his ear just inches from the speaker, his eyes locked on the screen, searching, demanding confirmation. The signal is weak, distorted, and almost immediately swallowed again by the overwhelming static, like a drowning man’s hand disappearing beneath the waves. But it was there. For a fleeting moment, the universe wasn’t empty. The silence that follows is more profound and heavier than before, charged with the phantom echo of the pulse. The warm glow of the vacuum tubes seems to intensify, reflecting in their wide, searching eyes. The single, fragile moment has irrevocably shattered their bleak stasis, replacing it with a dangerous, intoxicating possibility. The air crackles, no longer with static, but with the electric charge of a world that has just become infinitely larger and more mysterious.
🎵 Tone: Suspenseful, shocking, cautiously hopeful.
🎬 Scene 4
Propelled by their discovery, Anya and Leo now stand at the edge of the balcony, their silhouettes starkly defined against the vast, sickly canvas of the ruined city. The immediate intimacy of their shelter is gone, replaced by the crushing scale of the world they must now engage with. The camera is behind them, a wide shot that captures both their determined postures and the sprawling urban decay stretching to the horizon. Leo has his heavy rucksack on, its straps cinched tight, a sign of imminent departure. He scans the cityscape below, his head on a slow, methodical swivel, his posture radiating a newfound, albeit tense, sense of purpose. He is no longer just a weary survivor; he is a watchman, a guardian of a fragile new secret. Anya stands beside him, clutching the precious device to her chest like a sacred relic. Her gaze is fixed on a specific point in the distance—the towering, skeletal spire of a communications array on a distant hill, a logical source for any signal. Her previous frustration has been replaced by a fierce, burning resolve that seems to emanate from her, a palpable energy in the desolate air. As they stand there, a new element enters the frame. A sleek, black surveillance drone, shaped like a predatory insect with a single, glowing red optical sensor, glides silently into view from the right side of the frame, its movements unnervingly smooth and silent. It moves with an unnatural grace, patrolling its designated sector with cold, machine-like efficiency. It passes relatively close, its red eye sweeping over the landscape, a mobile extension of the unseen authority that governs this wasteland. For a tense moment, it seems to slow, its sensor pointing in their general direction. Anya and Leo instinctively flatten themselves against the concrete wall, their bodies rigid, their breath held. The drone hovers, its silent scrutiny a terrifying violation, before continuing on its path, oblivious. The near-miss leaves them shaken, a stark and immediate reminder that their newfound hope has a price: visibility. They are no longer just hiding; they are now hiding something.
🎵 Tone: Tense, determined, perilous.
🎬 Scene 5
The scene plunges into the cavernous, suffocating darkness of a derelict London Underground station. The air is cold and damp, thick with the smell of wet concrete, mould, and stagnant water. The only light source is a single, battery-powered lantern placed on the ground, casting long, distorted shadows that dance and writhe across the decaying station walls. The light catches the grime on the iconic ‘Mind the Gap’ markings on the platform edge, the words now a morbidly ironic warning. Water drips rhythmically from the ceiling into a large puddle, each drop echoing through the subterranean space with a percussive finality. Anya is on her knees, working frantically. She has connected her device to a large, makeshift satellite dish—a repurposed piece of sheet metal she is now trying to aim up a ventilation shaft, a grimy opening in the arched ceiling. Her face, illuminated from below by the lantern, is a mask of strained concentration, sweat beading on her forehead and tracing clean paths through the grime on her cheeks. Leo stands guard a few feet away, his back to her, peering into the oppressive darkness of the tunnel entrance. He holds a heavy, lead pipe in one hand, his knuckles white. Every sound—the drip of water, the scuttling of unseen things in the darkness, the distant groan of the city above—makes him flinch, his body coiled like a spring. The camera, positioned low and slightly canted, creates a disorienting, claustrophobic feeling. It slowly pushes in on Anya, her frantic movements contrasting with Leo’s tense stillness. The scene is a pressure cooker of anxiety; they are exposed, vulnerable, and working against an unseen clock. The hope that drove them here is now battling a primal fear of the dark and the unknown. The fragile signal is their only guide, a faint siren’s call leading them deeper into the belly of the dead city, a place where the shadows themselves feel predatory and the silence is a living, breathing threat.
🎵 Tone: Claustrophobic, tense, urgent.
🎬 Scene 6
A sudden, triumphant click echoes through the subway station as Anya locks the antenna into place. In that exact moment, the chaotic static from her device cuts out, replaced by a sound so clear, so human, it is utterly profound in the desolate silence. It is the voice of a woman, distorted by distance and primitive transmission, but undeniably real. Her voice, speaking in a calm, measured tone, fills their small, lantern-lit space. The words themselves are a coded message, numbers and phonetic alphabet, but the emotional impact is that of a miracle. Anya’s frantic movements cease. She sinks back on her heels, her entire body going limp with a mixture of exhaustion and overwhelming relief. She slowly lifts her head, her grimy face illuminated by the lantern’s glow, and a single tear traces a clean path down her cheek. It’s a tear not of sadness, but of monumental, earth-shattering validation. All her work, all her hope, was not in vain. She looks over at Leo, a watery, triumphant smile spreading across her face. Leo, hearing the voice, turns from his post at the tunnel’s edge. The tension drains from his body, the lead pipe lowering to his side. He stares at the small device, his cynical facade completely crumbling to reveal the vulnerable, hopeful man beneath. His mouth is slightly agape, and his eyes, wide with awe, reflect the lantern’s light. He takes a hesitant step towards Anya, then another, his gaze fixed on the source of the impossible sound. The camera executes a slow, circular track around them, capturing this shared moment of pure, unadulterated triumph from all angles. The flickering lantern light makes their expressions feel alive and momentous. For this one perfect, 8-second beat, they are not just survivors; they are pioneers on the verge of a new world. They have found another soul in the wilderness, proving they are not the last remnants of humanity.
🎵 Tone: Triumphant, emotional, cathartic.
🎬 Scene 7
The soaring, hopeful music is brutally cut short. The triumphant moment is shattered by a sudden, invasive sound—the high-pitched, electronic whine of a drone’s engine, amplified by the acoustics of the subway tunnel. A brilliant, harsh red light floods the scene, emanating from the tunnel entrance where Leo was just standing guard. The warm, intimate glow of their lantern is completely overpowered, casting them in a terrifying, crimson silhouette. The red light strobes rhythmically, painting the damp walls and their horrified faces in pulsing waves of emergency red. Leo instinctively throws himself in front of Anya, raising the lead pipe in a futile gesture of defiance against the unseen technological threat. His body is a shield, his face a grim mask of primal fear and protective rage. Anya, still on the ground, scrambles backward, clutching her device to her chest, her eyes wide with terror. The hopeful smile is gone, replaced by the stark realization that their signal—their beacon of hope—was also a flare that has exposed them to the very thing they have spent their lives hiding from. The drone’s searchlight slices through the darkness, pinning them like insects. Dust and moisture particles in the air catch the intense beam, making the light feel solid and inescapable. The camera snap-zooms onto their faces, capturing the raw panic in their eyes. The soft, emotional focus of the previous scene is replaced by a sharp, deep focus, every detail of their terror rendered with clinical clarity. The sound of the drone’s engine grows deafeningly loud, accompanied by the distinct, menacing sound of its targeting systems locking on. The walls seem to close in, the claustrophobia returning with a vengeance. Their brief moment of connection with the outside world has led the enemy directly to their doorstep, turning their greatest triumph into their most immediate and possibly final danger.
🎵 Tone: Sudden terror, panicked, dire.
🎬 Scene 8
The final scene is a breathtaking, defiant tableau. The camera pulls back into a medium two-shot, framing Anya and Leo as they are pinned by the drone’s unblinking red eye. The strobing light casts their faces in a dramatic, high-contrast dance of crimson and shadow. They are trapped, their backs against the cold, grimy tiles of the subway wall. The deafening whine of the drone fills the air, a constant, oppressive wave of sound. But in this final, desperate moment, their panic subsides, replaced by something harder, something unbreakable. Leo, still standing protectively in front of Anya, lowers the pipe slightly. His posture is no longer purely defensive; it’s one of resolute acceptance. He turns his head, his profile sharp against the red glare, and looks down at Anya. His eyes, which have shown weariness, skepticism, and terror, now hold a look of profound, quiet pride and love. He has protected her to the very end. Anya, seeing his expression, finds her own strength. She clutches the device, its screen still displaying the faint, hopeful signal, and pushes herself up to stand beside him. She is no longer cowering. She meets his gaze, and in that shared look, a universe of understanding passes between them. They have lost, but they have also won. They proved they weren’t alone. The camera pushes in slowly, moving past their shoulders to focus on the device held between them. The woman’s voice is still faintly audible beneath the drone’s noise, a ghost of hope that cannot be extinguished. Anya’s hand joins Leo’s on the device, their fingers intertwining over the cracked screen. They turn their heads in unison, facing the blinding red light not with fear, but with a shared, silent defiance. Their expressions are calm, resolute. They have made their choice. As the red light intensifies, threatening to white out the entire screen, the final image is of their two faces, side by side, united against the darkness, their legacy cupped in their hands.
🎵 Tone: Defiant, poignant, tragic yet hopeful.