Wind onshore 9.1 GW dominates the right third of the scene as dozens of tall three-blade turbines on lattice towers arrayed across rolling dark hills, rotors turning slowly in moderate breeze. Wind offshore 2.1 GW appears as a distant cluster of turbines on the far-right horizon, barely visible red aviation lights blinking. Brown coal 5.8 GW occupies the left foreground as massive hyperbolic cooling towers emitting thick pale steam plumes, with conveyor belts of lignite visible below. Hard coal 5.1 GW sits adjacent as a large coal-fired plant with tall stacks, orange-lit glow from boiler houses. Natural gas 6.4 GW fills the centre-left as compact CCGT power blocks with single tall exhaust stacks venting thin white plumes, illuminated by sodium security lighting. Biomass 4.1 GW appears as a mid-sized industrial facility in the centre with a domed digester and modest chimney, warmly lit. Hydro 1.1 GW is a small dam and powerhouse structure at the base of a hill in the centre-right, with water faintly reflecting industrial lights. No solar panels anywhere. Time is 3 AM: completely dark sky, deep black-navy with no twilight, no stars visible through 100% overcast. All structures illuminated only by artificial light — amber sodium streetlights, floodlit industrial compounds, glowing control-room windows. Early spring vegetation: bare deciduous trees with just the faintest hint of budding, dead grass, patches of frost on the ground at 5.9°C. The atmosphere is heavy and oppressive — thick low clouds pressing down, humid mist clinging to the cooling tower plumes, a sense of costly weight in the air reflecting the high electricity price. Rendered as a highly detailed oil painting in the tradition of 19th-century German Romantic landscape painters — rich, dark palette of deep blues, blacks, warm ambers, and industrial oranges; visible impasto brushwork; atmospheric depth with mist and layered distance; meticulous engineering accuracy in every turbine nacelle, cooling tower profile, and exhaust stack. The painting conveys the industrial sublime — vast dark infrastructure working through the night. No text, no labels.