Évariste Galois lies on the ground, just moments after being struck by a bullet

Évariste Galois lies on the ground, just moments after being struck by a bullet in the duel. The early morning light casts a soft glow on his pale face, which reflects both pain and a quiet resignation. Blood stains his shirt, spreading slowly as he clutches his wound. His eyes, half-closed, still hold a glimmer of the genius that defined his short life. Around him, the mist of the morning starts to lift, and the world seems to pause in this tragic moment. The background shows the faint outlines of the barren field, with the rising sun symbolizing both the end and the beginning, as Galois' spirit prepares to leave his earthly struggles behind