Système de Prompt d'Image Architecturale Jade Strata

A vast white jade mountain rises from a sea of cloud, its form carved into a single recursive spiral that ascends through three distinct tiers, each tier a complete palace complex that supports the one above it. The mountain is not a natural peak but a monumental architectural construction, every surface polished jade with cool internal depth, the stone thick and translucent only at the edges of carved eaves and balustrades. The spiral begins at a broad terraced base, where a ceremonial gate stands open, its pillars and bracket sets carved from the same white stone, gold fittings catching the first warm light of a low sun. The gate is not merely an entrance but the first turn of the spiral, its roof sweeping upward to become the floor of the second tier, a stairway wrapping the entire world-scale support column that rises from the center of the base. This column is the primary structural impossibility, a single pillar that carries the entire mountain, its surface carved with repeating bays of windows and doors, each bay a full story in height, the scale of the column made evident by the tiny figures of attendants who stand on its balconies, their robes dark against the pale stone. The second tier is a full palace complex, its timber bays coherent and regular, tiled roofs in deep green and gold curving upward, the brackets beneath each eave carved with cloud patterns that seem to flow into the actual mist that drifts between the tiers. This mist is not filler but a physical depth layer, a river of cloud that moves with visible current, its upper surface catching the warm light, its lower depths cool and shadowed, falling vapor that occludes the lower tier and reveals it again in slow pulses. The third tier is the destination, a single hall with a triple roof, its ridge line a carved dragon of jade and gold, its doors open to reveal a dark interior where a single lantern glows, the quiet region of the entire composition. The spiral continues beyond the hall, becoming a bridge that arcs over the cloud river and descends toward the viewer, its underside carved with the same bracket and beam logic as the upper structure, proving that the architecture is continuous and load-bearing, not a facade. The viewpoint is a worm's-eye ascent, the camera low at the base, looking up along the spiral, the perspective compressed so that the tiers stack tightly, the column dominating the center, the gate framing the lower foreground, the hall a small bright point at the top. The warm light comes from the left, a low sun that gilds the gold fittings and the edges of the tiled roofs, while the cool atmosphere fills the shadowed spaces between tiers, a blue-white haze that gives the jade its internal value. One figure stands on the lowest terrace, a single witness, a robed attendant with a staff, his height repeated against the gate pillars, the stair risers, the balustrade posts, each element scaled to his measure, so that the mountain's size is felt, not stated. The cloud river flows from behind the mountain, passes between the tiers, and spills over the base terrace in a slow cascade of vapor, its source hidden, its receiver the sea of cloud below. The entire structure obeys one axis, the central column, one near threshold, the open gate, one destination, the lantern-lit hall, and five depth registers: the foreground terrace, the gate, the first tier, the cloud river, the second tier, the third tier, and the distant sky. The composition is axial compression, the spiral drawn upward, the eye pulled from the gate to the hall, the cloud river providing the only horizontal movement, a counterpoint to the vertical thrust. The jade is never glossy, always matte with a cool internal glow, the gold is reserved for metal fittings and roof tiles, the clouds are structured, layered, and directional, and the quiet region is the hall's interior, a single point of stillness in the vast carved mountain.