Art style: Cinematic Realistic. A decaying vintage bus interior at night, illuminated by flickering, sickly yellow overhead lights. Ripped vinyl seats and rusted metal poles line the narrow aisle. A mysterious, stooped figure stands in the open folding doorway, silhouetted against the pitch-black exterior. The floor is covered in a layer of grime and old ticket stubs. The camera is positioned at the very back, looking forward. Muted grays, sickly yellows, and deep shadows dominate. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ FINAL STYLE ENFORCEMENT (this is the authoritative rendering directive — it overrides any style wording elsewhere in the prompt): Render this image entirely in "Cinematic Realistic" style. Match the lighting grammar, material response, colour science, level of realism / stylisation, line weight, and shading model typical of "Cinematic Realistic". Keep the subject, composition, camera angle, lighting direction, and colour palette from the description above — but EVERY surface, skin, fabric, material, and environmental element must be rendered in the "Cinematic Realistic" idiom, not in any other medium. Character appearance reference (MUST match exactly): - Old Man: An elderly man with a face like parchment, deeply lined with age and sorrow. His most striking feature is his eyes, which are entirely void of color, appearing as solid, glossy black orbs that reflect nothing. He wears a heavy, threadbare wool overcoat of an indeterminate dark color and a tattered flat cap. His expression is one of grim, eternal patience. He carries a sense of ancient weight, standing with a slight stoop. He is positioned against the dark, vibrating interior of an old bus with dim, flickering lighting. - Driver: A tall, gaunt figure whose face is mostly obscured by a peaked uniform cap pulled low. He has a sharp jawline and a thin, pale mouth that never moves when he speaks. He wears a dark, formal transit uniform that looks slightly oversized for his thin frame. His hands on the steering wheel are bony and pale. He radiates a cold, mechanical aura, staring perpetually forward at the road that isn't there. He is seated in the driver's booth of a vintage bus, surrounded by glowing green dashboard gauges.
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