ALICE

/SOL

Down the Rabbit Hole, Into the Hive" This is not the Wonderland with teacups and talking cats. This is Wonderland after the rules broke. Alice is running. Her classic blue dress and white apron are still there, but they’re torn at the hem, flaring behind her as she sprints down a wet, ruined street. Striped stockings, black shoes, blonde curls flying — she looks like the storybook girl, except her eyes are wide with real terror and her mouth is open in a gasp. This isn’t curiosity. This is survival. Behind her, the impossible follows: a Xenomorph. Biomechanical, black, dripping, towering over the vintage cars and steampunk buildings. Its jaw is open, claws extended, and it moves with that silent, predatory glide. The sky is smoke and spotlights. A zeppelin drifts in the distance like a bad dream. Wonderland used to be nonsense. Now it’s horror. The tea party is over and something else fell down the rabbit hole with her. The Cheshire Cat can’t help. The Mad Hatter can’t stall it. The only rule left is run. The image fuses two myths — childhood innocence and sci-fi nightmare. Alice isn’t chasing wonder anymore. Wonder is chasing her, and it has teeth.