Dystopian minimalist poster, cold and unsettling, symbolic restraint. Black or dark concrete-gray background. From the top of the image, a dense vertical rain of identical rectangles falls endlessly, like data debris or ash. The rectangles glow faintly, sickly, almost alive. At the center, a very small human figure stands beneath a harsh white inspection light, isolated, nearly swallowed by scale. The figure holds a simple label gun like a last tool of resistance. A few rectangles closest to the figure carry stark warning labels in small industrial type: “GENERATED” “NOT REVIEWED” “NO SOURCES” “OPINION” Most rectangles are unlabeled and indistinguishable. Above, barely visible in the darkness, enormous ghostlike words loom, half-erased, stretched across the top: “VOLUME” “SPEED” “ENGAGEMENT” They feel infrastructural, oppressive, like slogans carved into the system itself. Below, the falling rectangles pile up into a choking mass, blocking the lower edge of the poster—no clear ground, no horizon. Mood: bleak, quiet, exhausted, bureaucratic dystopia; no explosions, no violence—just scale and fatigue. Style: brutalist poster design, minimal color (black, gray, off-white, faint warning red), sharp geometry, extreme negative space. Lighting: single overhead light, hard shadows, high contrast. Texture: subtle grain, concrete and paper dust. No narrative text, no satire, no sci-fi chrome, no cyberpunk glow. Museum-grade dystopian editorial poster. | Brainrot Research