Kybernetische ägyptische Göttin mit Obsidian-Krone

An ultra-close-up, hyper-realistic digital portrait of a ghostly, cybernetic Egyptian goddess, her face and crown filling the entire frame with oppressive, supernatural presence. Her skin is pale as bleached marble, almost corpse-like, stretched tightly over biomechanical perfection. Her expression is still and unreadable—lips barely parted in an uncanny, knowing smirk, eyes glowing dimly like ancient blue embers. She is beautiful in a way that feels fundamentally wrong. But it is the crown that dominates the image—an enormous, terrifying structure rising like a collapsed star around her head, the very engine of her power. Made from jagged, layered obsidian plates laced with glowing fissures of deep red and sickly violet, it resembles a shattered solar disk reconstructed by alien hands. Its outer edges reach beyond the visible frame—too large, too intricate, too alive. Across its surface crawl ghostly, etched glyphs that flicker faintly, as if written in code and memory. Segments of the crown rotate almost imperceptibly, locked in eternal orbit. At its core: a dark sphere levitates in silence, pulsing with slow, terrible light. It seems to watch the viewer back—not as a symbol, but as a will. Fine strands of shadowy metal stretch from the crown into the air like strands of forgotten thought or control.