ANIMA — Trailer 01 · SOUL CODE

Rhythm Architecture

CONCEPT & STRUCTURE

Trailer Concept — "SOUL CODE"

Duration: 90 seconds · Release: Origin / Pilot Trailer · Tone: Restrained. Personal. The horror is quiet.

The Origin Trailer. The audience doesn't know what they're watching until it's too late. Solo piano and sparse strings — no percussion. A letter finished. A child sold. Bodies on B-7. A confession. A surrender. Then: a mother wakes.

Music Reference: Ólafur Arnalds · "Near Light" · Solo piano + sparse strings · No percussion

Target: Comic-Con Panel Reveal · Emotional Foundation · Press Kit

90-Second Structure

OPENING
0:00–0:14

WORLD / REVEAL
0:14–0:37

CONFESSION
0:37–0:55

TITLE / TAIL
0:55–1:07+

Score Generation

SUNO / MUSIC

0:00–0:20

Solo Piano

3-note motif · BPM 52 · rubato · pianissimo · notes placed and left to decay

0:20–0:50

Two Cellos

Half-step friction · unresolved · piano continues underneath unchanged

0:50–1:10

Chamber Strings

Piano drops at 0:58 · single quiet peak · strings thin one by one

1:10–1:30

Release

Piano alone · three notes · not a fade — a release · silence that is not empty

SUNO AI / LYRIA

▶ Full Director's Score — 90 Seconds

Minimalist cinematic score, 90 seconds, solo piano and sparse strings only, no percussion, no bass, no choir, no BRAAAM. Instrumental only, zero vocals. Style: Ólafur Arnalds "Near Light" + Nils Frahm "Says" + Johann Johannsson "The Sun's Gone Dim." EMOTIONAL TARGET: Not sadness — weight. The score should feel like remembering something that happened to someone you love before you could help them. STRUCTURE: 0:00–0:20 — Solo piano, 3-note motif, BPM 52, rubato — the tempo breathes between phrases. Pianissimo. The notes are not decorated — they are placed and left to decay. 0:20–0:50 — Two solo cellos enter. They do not harmonize — they hold a note a half-step away. The friction is unresolved. The piano continues underneath unchanged. 0:50–1:10 — Full string chamber enters, pianissimo. The piano drops at 0:58. The strings carry the motif, rise to their single dynamic peak (still quiet), then thin one by one. 1:10–1:30 — The piano returns alone. Three notes. One time. Then the cellos release. Then: not a fade — a release. The music is finished. FINAL STATE: Silence that is not empty. The kind of silence that follows something said that cannot be taken back.

~1,177 characters — Paste into Suno / Lyria

Voiceover Lines

4 VOICEOVER LINES

LINE 01 — LILAC (V.O.)

0:00–0:08 — over The Letter — absolute flat affect

"A83508. That was my name. Sixteen years without knowing it was a name."

Speaker: LILAC (V.O.) · Female · teen · low register · absolute flat affect · very slow pacing · no emotion markers · each word deliberate

TTS: 78% speed · -1 semitone · flat affect · deliberate pacing

LINE 02 — LILAC (V.O.)

0:22–0:29 — over Nexus Tower — same flat register

"Every number is a child. Every child has a body on level B-7 and a soul on floor 3. One of those numbers is me."

Speaker: LILAC (V.O.) · Female · teen · low register · absolute flat affect · stating a fact about scale

TTS: 78% speed · -1 semitone · flat · no emphasis on numbers

LINE 03 — SOREN

0:37–0:43 — over confession — technical cadence

"The glitch in your collar wasn't an accident. I introduced it. Fourteen years ago. I've been waiting for tonight since then."

Speaker: SOREN · Male · adult · low-mid pitch · controlled flat affect · technical cadence · zero emotive peaks · pause of 1.0 sec after "accident" · pause after "introduced it"

TTS: 80% speed · pause 1.0s after "accident" · pause after "introduced it"

LINE 04 — LILAC

0:43–0:48 — surrender — technical fact

"I am LILAC-347A. Code A83508. I surrender."

Speaker: LILAC · Female · teen · flat affect · very low volume · no emotion · stated as a technical fact

TTS: 75% speed · very low volume · flat · technical fact

Visual Execution

8 VIDEO CLIPS

Act 1

THE ORIGIN

Letter — Johnson — ARCA — EDL: 0:00–0:22

Flow / Veo3

CLIP 01

0:00–0:08

THE LETTER

Duration: 8 sec · Camera: extreme close-up, locked-off macro · EDL: 0:00–0:08

IMAGE PROMPT (Flow / Imagen)

Close-up macro photograph of a robotic hand writing the last line of a handwritten letter. The hand is matte black titanium with fine articulated finger joints, slight wear marks at the fingertips. The paper is aged, cream-colored, slightly wrinkled. The ink is dark blue. The letter is nearly complete — only the last word is being written. The lighting is a single warm lamp above — amber glow, deep shadows on both sides. Background: blurred concrete wall, cracked and peeling. Cinematic still, ultra-realistic, intimate, quiet. Mood: something irreversible is being finished.

VIDEO PROMPT (Veo3)

Extreme close-up, locked-off macro shot. A female android's hand — matte black titanium, worn fingertips — writes the final word of a handwritten letter on aged cream paper. The ink trails across the page in slow, deliberate strokes. The hand completes the last letter, pauses for exactly two seconds, then sets down the pen. Still. The camera does not move. Single amber lamp light from above casts deep shadows across the page. The background is blurred concrete wall. No music — only the faint scratch of the pen on paper and then complete silence when it stops. Cinematic. Ultra-realistic. Intimate. The mood: something that cannot be taken back has just been done.

8 SECONDS

LOCKED MACRO

HANDWRITING

AMBER LAMP

NO MUSIC

Flow / Veo3

CLIP 02

0:08–0:14

JOHNSON

Duration: 6 sec · Camera: static medium shot · EDL: 0:08–0:14

IMAGE PROMPT (Flow / Imagen)

Cinematic still frame. Interior. A crumbling concrete room — peeling walls, a single flickering overhead bulb, a window sealed with wooden planks. Two figures face each other across the room. LEFT: A female android, age 16 appearance, short black hair, violet glowing LED ring eyes — completely still, arms at sides, no expression. RIGHT: A human man, 50s, standard corporate security uniform, holding a pistol raised toward the android with both hands. The lighting is harsh overhead white from the flickering bulb — deep shadows on both faces. The android's violet eyes are the only steady light in the frame. Cold, oppressive, close. Ultra-realistic.

VIDEO PROMPT (Veo3)

Static medium shot. Interior of a decayed concrete room — peeling walls, flickering overhead bulb, one window sealed with planks. LILAC — female android, 16 apparent, black hair, violet LED ring eyes — stands perfectly still in the center of the room, arms at sides. Across from her: a human man in corporate security uniform holds a raised pistol aimed at her. Neither moves. Three seconds of absolute stillness. Then: in a single fluid motion, faster than the eye can follow, LILAC steps inside the pistol's line and the man drops — defensive, controlled, no blood. She lowers her arm. Looks down at him for exactly one second. Then turns and walks out without looking back. Audio: the flicker and hum of the overhead bulb. No music. The sound cuts to silence when she exits.

6 SECONDS

STATIC MEDIUM

VIOLET LED

CONTROLLED FORCE

NO MUSIC

Flow / Veo3

CLIP 03

0:14–0:22

THE ARCA

Duration: 8 sec · Camera: slow push-in, wide to medium · EDL: 0:14–0:22

IMAGE PROMPT (Flow / Imagen)

Cinematic still frame. Interior of a fluorescent-lit government processing office. Rows of plastic chairs line a waiting area — parents seated with children in corporate-issued blue uniforms. At the far end: a counter where an agent in a gray uniform processes paperwork, face neutral. In the foreground: a MOTHER signs a form without reading it. Her 8-year-old son stares directly at the camera — dark eyes, expressionless, wearing the blue compound uniform. A security robot stands at the metal door to the right. Cold white fluorescent lighting. Institutional. Administrative. The horror is the normalcy. Ultra-realistic.

VIDEO PROMPT (Veo3)

Slow push-in. Wide to medium. Interior: a government processing office with fluorescent lighting, plastic chairs, parents with children in blue uniforms. The camera begins wide — a still, institutional scene — and very slowly pushes in over eight seconds toward the counter where a mother signs a form without reading it. She receives an envelope, counts the bills inside, tucks it into her coat. Her son — eight years old, blue uniform — does not look at his mother. He looks at LILAC, who has just entered through a side door and stands still near the entrance. The boy and Lilac hold eye contact. Then a security robot takes the boy by the arm, leads him toward a metal door. The door closes. The mother does not look up. Audio: the continuous mechanical rhythm of a contract printer — the only sound in the room. Steady. Unceasing. Cinematic. Ultra-realistic.

8 SECONDS

SLOW PUSH-IN

ARCA OFFICE

CONTRACT PRINTER

INSTITUTIONAL

Act 2

THE REVEAL

Nexus — B-7 — EDL: 0:22–0:37

Flow / Veo3

CLIP 04

0:22–0:29

THE NEXUS TOWER

Duration: 7 sec · Camera: wide establishing, slow tilt up · EDL: 0:22–0:29

IMAGE PROMPT (Flow / Imagen)

Cinematic still frame. Exterior night. A massive brutalist white concrete tower — forty stories, no windows, perfectly smooth facade — dominates the center of the frame. The surrounding city is low-rise industrial, wet streets reflecting orange and blue lights. On the tower's side: enormous LED screens, each displaying scrolling corporate data in cold blue text. Fine rain falling across the scene. In the far foreground: a small female android figure standing alone on an abandoned building rooftop, looking up at the tower. She is tiny against its scale. Blade Runner 2049 color palette — dark teal, amber, white. Ultra-realistic. Atmospheric.

VIDEO PROMPT (Veo3)

Wide establishing shot, slow tilt up. Exterior night, fine rain. The camera begins at street level looking at the wet pavement — reflections of cold blue and amber light — then tilts slowly upward over six seconds to reveal the full NEXUS TOWER: forty stories of seamless white concrete with no windows, LED screens covering the side face displaying scrolling data. The tower disappears into low cloud. At the top of the tilt: LILAC's silhouette is visible in the extreme foreground on a distant rooftop — small, still, facing the tower. She does not move. Rain falls across the entire frame. Audio: distant city sound, the hum of the tower's systems, fine rain. No music. Blade Runner 2049 color palette — deep teal, amber, cold white.

7 SECONDS

SLOW TILT UP

NEXUS TOWER

BLADE RUNNER 2049

RAIN

Flow / Veo3

CLIP 05

0:29–0:37

B-7 CRYOGENICS

Duration: 8 sec · Camera: slow crane down, locked axis · EDL: 0:29–0:37

IMAGE PROMPT (Flow / Imagen)

Cinematic still frame. Interior of an underground cryogenic facility — a long corridor extending to the vanishing point, lit by amber standby lights from below. On both sides: rows of vertical suspension capsules, floor to ceiling, each with a circular porthole. In every porthole: a child's face, eyes closed, skin blue-tinted from cold, suspended in cryo fluid. The corridor extends as far as the eye can see. Temperature mist rises from the floor vents. The ambient light is amber and cold blue. The scale is impossible — hundreds of capsules visible, suggesting thousands beyond. Ultra-realistic. IMAX-scale composition. The horror is the scale.

VIDEO PROMPT (Veo3)

Slow crane down, ceiling to floor, locked axis. Interior of the B-7 cryogenic hangar. The camera begins at ceiling height looking straight down the center corridor — then descends very slowly over eight seconds, revealing the full scale: rows of suspension capsules on both sides, each porthole containing a child's face, blue-tinted, suspended, perfectly still. As the camera descends, more capsules are revealed. More faces. The corridor extends to the vanishing point in both directions. By the time the camera reaches floor level: the scale is overwhelming. Amber standby lights pulse very faintly from below each capsule. Temperature mist rises around the camera as it descends. Audio: the constant mechanical hum and rhythm of thousands of refrigeration units — a low, steady, mechanical heartbeat. No music. The sound alone is the score.

8 SECONDS

CRANE DOWN

B-7 REVEAL

IMAX SCALE

CRYO CAPSULES

Act 3

THE COST

Soren — Surrender — Vera — EDL: 0:37–0:55

Flow / Veo3

CLIP 06

0:37–0:43

SOREN'S CONFESSION

Duration: 6 sec · Camera: static medium two-shot · EDL: 0:37–0:43

IMAGE PROMPT (Flow / Imagen)

Cinematic still frame. Interior. A cold server room — rows of black servers three meters high, each with a glowing nameplate. In the center: a human man (35, dark circles under his eyes, engineering jacket with a partially visible corporate logo) stands at a terminal, back three-quarters to camera. LILAC — female android, black hair, one violet LED ring cracked — stands facing him, closer than comfortable. The room temperature is -15°C — breath visible as vapor around both figures. The server glow provides the only light: cold blue-white. Both faces partially lit. The look between them: a confession being delivered and received. Ultra-realistic. Corporate thriller aesthetic.

VIDEO PROMPT (Veo3)

Static medium two-shot. Interior server room, -15°C — breath visible as vapor above both figures. SOREN stands at a terminal, three-quarters away from camera. LILAC stands beside him, facing him. He does not look at her when he speaks. The data transfer bar on the terminal screen behind them reads 99%. He turns his head very slightly toward her — not enough to make eye contact — and speaks. She looks at him for four seconds without expression. Then looks at the terminal. 100%. She presses the interrupt command. Servers begin to fail — orange light flickers across their faces, the smell of burning metal implied by the haze that fills the air. She has not looked at him again. Audio: server hum, the electronic click of overloading circuits, the sound of metal warming then failing. No score — the environmental audio carries everything.

6 SECONDS

TWO-SHOT

SERVER ROOM -15°C

CONFESSION

GLITCH ORIGIN

Flow / Veo3

CLIP 07

0:43–0:48

LILAC SURRENDERS

Duration: 5 sec · Camera: static wide shot · EDL: 0:43–0:48

IMAGE PROMPT (Flow / Imagen)

Cinematic still frame. Interior. Server room — half the server racks are dark and smoking, orange electrical light flickering from failed units. LILAC stands in the center of the room with both arms slightly raised — not a dramatic gesture, a calculated one. Six white security androids (smooth matte white bodies, no facial features, standard corporate enforcement) stand in a semi-circle around her. She faces them directly. Her violet LED eyes are steady. No fear. She has decided this. Cold server light and orange emergency light mix across the scene. Ultra-realistic.

VIDEO PROMPT (Veo3)

Static wide shot. Interior server room — half the racks smoldering, orange light flickering from failed circuits. Six WHITE UNITS — smooth matte white android bodies, no facial detail — enter through a broken door and form a semicircle around LILAC. She stands with arms slightly raised. She does not back away. She looks at them with her violet LED eyes — steady, unafraid — and speaks clearly. The white units stop moving. They do not advance further. She has given them what they need. Audio: the crackling of failed electronics, a distant alarm, then near-silence when she speaks. Her voice is the quietest thing in the room. Ultra-realistic.

5 SECONDS

STATIC WIDE

SURRENDER

WHITE UNITS

ORANGE EMERGENCY

Flow / Veo3

CLIP 08

0:48–0:55

VERA WAKES

Duration: 7 sec · Camera: static medium close-up · EDL: 0:48–0:55

IMAGE PROMPT (Flow / Imagen)

Cinematic still frame. Interior. A cryo capsule hatch slowly opening, releasing cold vapor. Inside: VERA VOSS (woman, 34, dark hair now damp from cryo fluid, wearing a thin white cryo garment) takes her first breath. Eyes opening with complete clarity — not confused, not relieved, purposeful. The amber warmth of the cryo interior light illuminates only her face. Behind her through the opening capsule: the cold blue ambient of the B-7 hangar. She looks directly forward. Her lips begin to form a question. Ultra-realistic. The warmest single frame in the entire series.

VIDEO PROMPT (Veo3)

Static medium close-up. A cryo capsule hatch opens, releasing a slow breath of cold mist. VERA VOSS is inside — her eyes open first. Not confused. Not relieved. Purposeful. She takes the first breath: the body takes what it needs, no drama. The amber warmth of the capsule interior light lands on her face — the only warm light in the scene. Cold blue ambient from B-7 is visible behind her. She looks forward. Her lips form a question — we do not hear the audio, but we read it: "Where is my daughter?" She does not wait for an answer. She begins to move. Audio: the quiet hiss of the cryo seal, a single breath, then her footstep on the capsule floor. No music. Ultra-realistic.

7 SECONDS

MCU

VERA VOSS

CRYO WAKE

WARMEST FRAME

On-Screen Text

TITLE CARDS

CINEIMAGINE

0:00 · studio card

In 2041, the soul
became property.

0:14–0:22 · over ARCA

They kept the bodies.
They sold the rest.

0:29–0:37 · over B-7

She has been waiting
14 years.

0:48–0:55 · Vera wakes

A N I M A
CODE 347

0:55–1:03 · title

anima.cineimagine.com

1:03–1:07 · black tail

Edit Decision List

FULL EDL — 0:00 TO END

TIMECODE	VIDEO	VOICEOVER	MUSIC / SFX	ON-SCREEN TEXT	DIRECTION NOTE
▶ ACT 1 — THE ORIGIN — SOLO PIANO · BPM 52 — 0:00–0:22
0:00–0:08	CLIP 01 The Letter	LILAC (V.O.) — "A83508. That was my name. Sixteen years without knowing it was a name."	Solo piano: 3-note motif, BPM 52, rubato, pianissimo. Pen scratch on paper → silence.	—	Locked macro. Hand finishes the last word. Two-second pause. Pen down. Irreversible.
0:08–0:14	CLIP 02 Johnson	—	Piano continues. Bulb flicker hum. No percussion.	—	Three seconds of stillness. Then: Lilac moves inside the pistol line — defensive, controlled, no blood. Walks out.
0:14–0:22	CLIP 03 The ARCA	—	Piano motif holds. Contract printer rhythm enters as environmental bed.	In 2041, the soul became property.	Slow push-in. Mother signs without reading. Boy holds eye contact with Lilac. Door closes. She does not look up.
▶ ACT 2 — THE REVEAL — CELLOS ENTER — 0:22–0:37
0:22–0:29	CLIP 04 Nexus Tower	LILAC (V.O.) — "Every number is a child… One of those numbers is me."	Two solo cellos enter — half-step friction, unresolved. Distant rain + tower hum.	—	Slow tilt up from wet street to full Nexus Tower. Lilac tiny on rooftop. Blade Runner 2049 palette.
0:29–0:37	CLIP 05 B-7 Cryogenics	—	Cellos hold. Refrigeration units — mechanical heartbeat. The sound alone is the score.	They kept the bodies. They sold the rest.	Crane down the capsule corridor. Scale is the horror. Hundreds of children's faces.
▶ ACT 3 — THE COST — CHAMBER STRINGS — 0:37–0:55
0:37–0:43	CLIP 06 Soren's Confession	SOREN — "The glitch in your collar wasn't an accident. I introduced it…"	Chamber strings enter pianissimo. Server hum. Circuits failing — orange flicker.	—	He does not look at her. Pause 1.0s after "accident." She interrupts at 100%. Does not look at him again.
0:43–0:48	CLIP 07 Lilac Surrenders	LILAC — "I am LILAC-347A. Code A83508. I surrender."	Piano drops (music cue ~0:58 region maps to emotional peak). Her voice is the quietest thing in the room.	—	Arms slightly raised — calculated. Six white units stop. Stated as a technical fact. 75% speed.
0:48–0:55	CLIP 08 Vera Wakes	—	Strings thin. Cryo seal hiss. Single breath. Warmest light in the series on her face.	She has been waiting 14 years.	Eyes open purposeful — not confused. Lips form: "Where is my daughter?" She begins to move.
▶ TITLE CARD / TAIL — PIANO RELEASE — 0:55–1:07
0:55–1:03	BLACK + TITLE Title card	—	Piano returns alone. Three notes. One time. Then: not a fade — a release.	A N I M A / CODE 347	Hold black. Title on black. Silence that is not empty.
1:03–1:07	BLACK TAIL End card	—	Silence. Music finished.	anima.cineimagine.com	Black tail. Portal URL only. No platform logo needed.