Strands erupted from the scalp, falling in heavy, distinct waves. It wasn't the glossy, plastic hair of modern CGI. It was heavy, weighted. It was a deep, bruised purple, shot through with veins of silver. As it rendered, it draped over the bust’s shoulders, pooling at the base of the neck.
"Jesus," Elias whispered. The geometry was insane. Every strand seemed to move independently, reacting to a simulated breeze that Elias couldn't feel. aa2.hair.v2
But the prompt had changed.