Hear Not The Replicant Choir

Doing some keyart illustrations to figure out the mood for one of my worldbuilding projects, combining eldritch horror with cyberpunk aesthetics!

// She could feel the choking, discordant, silent screams of the Choir, scrabbling for purchase. "It's dead. It can't hurt me," she prays to herself.
"Sinners clutch to blindfolds of their denial // Grasping fleeting flailing within one's soul // Too late you have come to embrace the all," the Choir replied as it takes her hand. There is no more. //