The Gatekeeper of Galactic Mysteries

This isn’t your average witch with a cauldron full of frog soup and wax dripping on Halloween. She’s got the whole damn universe in her eyes. Those eyes, like two fiery traffic lights on a deserted highway, whisper: "Come closer, but beware, once you step in, there’s no going back."

Around her, the galaxy swirls like someone spilled cosmic milk on a black velvet canvas and stirred it with their finger. In her hands, she holds a key – not your mundane key to the basement with forgotten jars, but the key: the one that unlocks dreams, disasters, and that cosmic party you weren’t invited to but somehow ended up on the list. And that glowing circle in her hands? It’s either a portal to somewhere unimaginable or a disco ball for a black hole. The colors – yellows, purples, blazing hues – they’re louder than anything you could ever say.

This isn’t just art. It’s a tarot card you’re too afraid to pull. A door you want to open but fear what’s on the other side. It’s light piercing through the void when everyone insists it’s dark.