A grand three-masted sailing ship

red flag snaps high / white sails chase the breaking gold / dark hull cleav Prompt (flux 1.1 pro ultra): A colossal three-masted sailing ship from the Age of Sail cuts through a storm-tossed ocean at twilight, its dark wooden hull streaked with salt and time, gliding across towering waves that crash and rise in relentless rhythm. The vessel’s sails, massive and ivory-white, billow in the furious wind, strained taut on weathered rigging that whines and groans with the force of nature. Intricate carvings of sea serpents and celestial motifs line the stern and prow, gilded in worn gold leaf that catches fleeting glimmers of dying sunlight breaking through dense storm clouds. Atop the mainmast flutters a tattered banner—a navy ensign bearing the emblem of a roaring golden lion—snapping violently in the gale. The sky above churns with thunderclouds in swirling grays, blues, and purples, pierced by streaks of amber and violet light as the last rays of the sun scatter across the horizon, illuminating mist and salt spray in a divine haze. On deck, sailors in soaked uniforms scramble across slick timbers, shouting commands into the wind, hauling lines and reefing sails with urgent precision, their faces lit by swinging lanterns and flashes of lightning that silhouette the rigging. The captain stands high at the helm, cloaked in a long blue coat, his gloved hand gripping the brass wheel with unwavering control, eyes fixed on the roiling sea ahead, framed by tangled curls of wind-whipped hair and the distant glow of a lightning strike illuminating the far cliffs behind them. Waves rise like mountains around the vessel, their peaks tipped with phosphorescent foam, casting glowing reflections across the ship’s hull as it surges forward with elemental grace. Around the ship, seabirds scream and wheel, caught in the violent updrafts, their wings ghostly in the stormy light. The ocean itself becomes a character—alive, sentient, and mythic—pulling at the keel with unseen force ...