A lone lighthouse keeper walks along a jagged cliff edge at golden hour, his weathered coat whipping violently in the wind. The camera starts as a wide drone shot from behind, slowly pulling back to reveal the massive scale of the grey-green ocean below, white-capped waves crashing against black volcanic rock. As the sun descends, it splits the sky into layers — deep amber at the horizon bleeding into burnt orange, rose pink, and finally a cold indigo at the top of the frame. The keeper stops, pulls out a brass pocket watch, examines it, then closes his fist around it. Cut to a tight close-up of his face — deeply lined, salt-weathered skin, pale blue eyes reflecting the dying light, a faint melancholic expression. The lighthouse behind him begins to rotate, its beam cutting through the thickening sea mist. The camera slowly orbits him 180 degrees, now facing the sea, as the first stars become visible through breaks in the clouds. Cinematic 35mm film grain, anamorphic lens flare, shallow depth of field, color grade inspired by Roger Deakins.