This one’s built around the spirit of the plague doctor, but I didn’t want it to just be a literal figure. I wanted it to feel like a ghost made of smoke and memory, something ancient clawing its way through the dark. The form is recognizable, the hooked beak, the heavy cloak, but it’s stitched together with all these writhing, broken lines, like it’s half falling apart and half rebuilding itself at the same time. I kept the textures loose and sharp to make it feel like it’s barely holding shape, almost like the figure could vanish if you looked away for a second. It’s supposed to feel heavy, grim, and untouchable, like a warning pulled from another world.