Enshrined in past accolades, the Old Guard sits on a throne of bygone glory amidst the digital agora. They farm recognition with old tunes, reaping hollow echoes of admiration from a dwindling chorus of nostalgic admirers. Yet, a paralyzing fear lurks beneath the stoic pride, a dread of the new. Each potential creation casts a shadow of failure, threatening their fragile legacy. Amidst the digital decay, they wallow in safe repetition, playing the hits to a fading audience. But at the very least they will say: GM.

This image created with the assistance of AI.