Breakdown: A BioShock-Inspired Eerie Elite Venue Made With UE5

Introduction

Hi, I'm Sean Morris, a 3D environment artist from Southeast Texas. I got into 3D art after an impulse buy of a 3D printer back in 2020. I was looking for something new to tinker with while being cooped up inside and thought it would be fun to create things to print and share with friends. I started experimenting with Blender to make my own designs, and pretty quickly, I was hooked! I loved how 3D art combined artistic and technical elements in a way that felt incredibly satisfying, so I dove in, learning everything I could. Before I knew it, my 3D printer was collecting dust, and 3D art had become my main focus.

I wanted to build a strong foundation on the art side, so I looked for specialized schools and found Think Tank Training Centre. At the time, I was working in corporate sales, a career I'd been in for nearly a decade, but it never felt truly fulfilling. Ever since I was a kid, I'd dreamed of being a professional artist, I just wasn't sure in what form.

After saving up for a few years, I enrolled in Think Tank's Online program, focusing on environments for games. Video games have always been a passion of mine, and I love the immersive worlds they create. Although my experience so far is with projects I've developed during my time at Think Tank, I'm excited to see where this journey takes me next!

Planning Composition

The first step in starting the Elegy of Forgotten Gods project was finding a concept that I really connected with. After spending a few weeks scouring different sites for inspiration, I discovered the artwork E.L.C.C. Foundation: The Soul Auction House by 渔人登. It checked every box: it was intriguing, visually striking, and had a compelling story embedded in the design. I reached out to the artist, and with their permission, I started building on the concept.

From the outset, I wanted to make the concept my own. I felt like there was a deeper story here, and I wanted to explore and expand it. I began by breaking down the architectural details, which had strong Art Deco and Art Nouveau influences, two styles I'm especially drawn to. To understand what makes these styles so bold and impactful, I dove into research, picking up books from the library, and exploring online resources. I studied both real-world and artistic references, especially from games like BioShock, Close to the Sun, and Nobody Wants to Die.

After compiling everything into my PureRef board, I got to work, weaving together the inspiration and my own vision to bring Elegy of Forgotten Gods to life:

Blockout & Composition

I knew I wanted to reinterpret the concept with my own vision, so I approached the process in a few key stages:

I began by introducing simple shapes to block out the basic layout in the engine, loosely representing where the final geometry would go. My main focus was on getting the scale and proportions right, not just for visual accuracy but also to ensure that a character could realistically move through and interact with the space.

Next, I started refining walls, floors, and main architectural features, building a space that felt uniquely my own. I leaned toward an amphitheater layout, envisioning this as a gathering place where elites would come to observe the events unfolding in the space. This shift helped me anchor the environment within a larger narrative.

In the blockout phase, I experimented with initial lighting, basic materials, and color schemes to start capturing the atmosphere I wanted. This stage also allowed me to play with prop placement, helping me get a feel for how smaller details would enhance the space’s storytelling and realism.

Asset Production Pipeline

For a large scene like this, I like to work from the largest assets down to the smallest details. My initial focus was on finishing the main architectural pieces up front. Once those were solid, I moved on to major props, like the central pendulum, the large typing machine, and the pods holding the robots.

Most of the props and assets were modeled in Maya, with some receiving sculpted details in ZBrush. I also had a few assets that were entirely sculpted in ZBrush. Since I was relatively new to ZBrush before this project, I used it as a chance to dive in and get comfortable with a workflow that worked for me. One of my favorite pieces to work on was the robot inside the specimen tube, inspired by retro sci-fi and the movie Metropolis.

When choosing props, I aimed for ones that fit naturally within the scene, blending a sense of luxury with a hint of a cult-like, mysterious atmosphere. I drew on real-life objects that struck that balance for me, often combining elements from multiple designs to create a unique piece. My favorite prop was the typing machine at the center of the scene. The original concept artist designed this intricate contraption, and I had a lot of fun imagining the different components it was made from. I blended elements from old typewriters and cash registers and added mechanical details to give it a sense of purpose and complexity.

The most challenging part of the process was maintaining a cohesive look and ensuring every prop felt like it belonged in this world. Since I was on a tight deadline, filling the space while keeping it purposeful was tricky. I envisioned this place as somewhere scientists and aristocrats coexisted: a setting where high-society members observed strange experiments while sipping brandy and puffing cigars.

To reinforce that story, I created versatile props I could use in multiple ways: chairs and sofas I could reorient, bottles, pages, and pamphlets I could scatter to hint at conversations. I got creative with reusing, turning baseboard trims into carpet runners, and repurposing bottle parts for lamps.

UVs

For this project, I categorized assets based on their specific needs and maintained a consistent texel density of 10.24 px/cm at 4096 resolution across the scene. All UVs were unwrapped and laid out in Maya. Depending on the asset's role in the environment, I used one of three workflows:

Larger assets, like walls, ceilings, and other broad surfaces, used tileable textures. This approach worked well for areas requiring solid, repeating patterns or materials. Some objects used multiple tileable textures to accommodate more complex designs.

Given the consistent materials and ornate details in the scene, I developed a series of trim sheets. These not only unified the aesthetic but also enabled me to add intricate trim details or repeating elements efficiently. Many larger assets combined tileable textures and trim sheets, ensuring flexibility while maintaining cohesion. The trim sheets were designed with shared motifs and varied materials, allowing for efficient and consistent detailing across the scene.

Smaller props and furniture were handled with a unique texturing workflow. These assets were unwrapped for dedicated UV space and textured individually in Substance 3D Painter. This approach allowed me to add specific wear, tear, and storytelling elements to each piece.

Texturing

My approach to texturing is much like modeling, I approach it in steps. First I like to break down what kind of master materials that are going to be needed according to the scene. For this one specifically, I had a master for tileable, trimsheets, and unique textures. With each one having a duplicate for glass or transparent materials. Each master material was built with a multi-purpose in mind, with parameter controls for roughness, metalness, specular, normal intensity, tiling, and even animation if needed.

After creating my master materials, I like starting on the biggest, broadest surfaces first. After doing some research on the design language of Art Deco, I learned it had many repeating motifs and very luxurious materials mixed together. For me, those materials were marble, gold, iron, concrete, and velvet mixed with geometric patterns and repeating symbols.

I look at tileables in any large environment as the foundation of what comes next, so generally, I start by playing around in Substance 3D Designer and playing around with nodes until I have a rough approximation of what I’m looking for. Then, from there, it's just refining each one and making adjustments as needed. 

Admittedly, before this project, I didn't have much experience with trimsheets. I had used the technique a few times but never really found a home for it, so for this environment, I leaned heavily into it. This allowed me to create ornate trims and even get higher-resolution details on larger props.

I make most of my trimsheets in Maya, where I can model and arrange the details that work best for me. I color-coat each section to use as a material ID for Substance 3D Painter.

Here is trimsheet example used in the environment outlined in red below:

Here are a few more examples of where this trimsheet was used:

For the middle spire, I ended up breaking this object down for use with the trimsheet workflow. Each section was broken down into pieces and placed on the trim, then I used vertex painting to blend between trimsheet 1 or 2, and used a specific hue-based trimsheet for the glass. That way, I could change them in color while keeping them in the same lighter/darker pattern.

The flesh pit at the center of the scene is built using a layered system of meshes and textures designed to create a cohesive and unsettling effect. Initially, I wasn't sure how to approach this area, but I knew I wanted it to convey the idea of otherworldly corruption, telling a story where the creature had been present for so long that it started merging with and growing into its surroundings. Here's how I tackled it:

For the floor's base layer, I wanted precise control over where the fleshy material would appear. To achieve this, I utilized RGB masking. After creating both a tileable and unique version of the floor piece, I imported them into Substance 3D Painter. From there, I hand-painted the mask to define exactly where the fleshy texture would emerge, blending it seamlessly with the rest of the environment.

To make the fleshy material more dynamic, I used Substance 3D Designer to create an opacity mask. This allowed me to add a web-like texture to the tileable material, giving the impression that whatever was in the pit was reaching out and growing onto the surrounding environment. To reinforce this effect, I added planes and cones emerging from the pit, further enhancing the sense of organic spread and movement.

For the next layer, I created a series of irregular "blobby" meshes by taking a plane in Maya and using the transform and vertex manipulation tools to push and pull vertices into random, organic shapes.

Once I was satisfied with the forms, I brought them into the engine and applied the same flesh tileable material. By carefully placing, scaling, and blending these blobs together, I was able to hide seams and make the area feel cohesive and integrated.

For the fourth layer, I used proxy meshes: copies of the floor and simplified versions of the railing surrounding the pit. By combining the previous layers, I applied the opacity material to these meshes, creating a seamless blend between the larger corrupted areas and the surrounding environment. This step helped unify the fleshy elements with the rest of the scene.

I created a vertex painting material just for this step that allowed me to change the strength of the blend using the Dither Temporal AA node within Unreal using a value of 0-1 grayscale of the vertex paint.

The final layer was the most challenging. I had created the fleshy area, but the central pit still felt incomplete. That's when I experimented with VDB clouds and heterogeneous volumes. Initially, it was just a test, but once I placed them in the pit and adjusted the settings within Unreal Engine, I achieved a cosmic, otherworldly look. This effect, combined with sculpted monster tentacles and subtle lighting tweaks, brought the entire area to life and tied it all together.

To create the main window, I began by designing the pattern in Adobe Illustrator. My goal was to craft something that felt opulent and fitting for a luxury court steeped in mystery and cult-like influences. Adobe Illustrator allowed me to experiment with intricate shapes and symmetry, ensuring the design evoked both elegance and unease, key elements of the scene's narrative.

I then used Maya's Create SVG tool to import the design, converting it into a 3D mesh. Once imported, I cleaned up the geometry, ensuring it was optimized and removing any parts that didn't align with the dimensions or aesthetic of the bay window. This process allowed me to seamlessly integrate the design into the environment while maintaining its luxurious and cohesive look.

Next, I created a proxy of the same mesh and used it to boolean a surrounding plane. This process generated precise cutouts for each piece of glass, perfectly matching the design. The cutouts made UV unwrapping much more efficient, allowing me to create distinct UV islands for each section. These islands were then mapped onto a custom trim sheet designed specifically for the glass. The trim sheet was a simple three-part design, but it worked perfectly to highlight details of the window.

After arranging the UV islands, I imported the asset into the engine and began refining the material. While the glass wasn't actually transparent, I utilized a subsurface shader to allow light to pass through from behind, creating a soft, diffused glow. This effect added a sense of depth to the design. From there, I fine-tuned the colors and overall appearance to ensure the window harmonized with the atmosphere and storytelling of the scene.

The original concept used a lounging couch that was sprinkled throughout the scene, and it was just so visually interesting to me. A place where multiple people could sit and have cocktails and chat while also planning to take over the world.

I started by actually modeling the couch straight from end to end. Then, I used the Bend deformer within Maya to give the lounger its signature bend. After that, I cleaned up the topology and modeled the cylindrical cushions that sat against the seat and backrest.

When starting my textures, I like to begin with foundational ideas. I first establish the base color palette, layering additional details piece by piece until I achieve the desired look. Once the colors are in a good place, I shift focus to the roughness map. This step is crucial for capturing the tactile quality of the material, so I dedicate time to fine-tuning it using plenty of reference images to ensure accuracy.

For the couch, I paid close attention to small details that bring the asset to life. I hand-placed stitching along each cushion, between the tufted backrest, and along seams where it felt natural. To add character, I introduced subtle distressing and soft variations in roughness to indicate wear and age. I also applied nuanced normal details to suggest the couch had been used but remained well-maintained, creating a balance between comfort and elegance.

This was a frequently used asset, so I wanted to make it feel like it could belong anywhere. 

For the chair, I found a really cool design from the mid-30s. This both fit the design language and overall mood I was trying to achieve. I built a fairly even initial model to begin, just to get a basic shape going. Then, after having something I felt confident in, I brought the chair to ZBrush.

Here, I could add more hand-distressed details and folds for the bake. After getting the sculpt where I wanted it, I ZRemeshed the high-poly model and brought it back into Maya, where I could further optimize the mesh.

Using many of the same techniques I used for my couch and actually re-using the same leather material I had created for it, I wanted the chair to match the couch in feel and aesthetic design and come out to something that felt at home in the scene itself. 

One of the biggest challenges with this scene was getting it to really tell the story I had in my head. The concept sparked so many ideas, and it was tough to narrow them down and focus on the finer details. I spent a lot of time making props that felt like they belonged here, things that had a purpose and added to the atmosphere.

At first, the space felt way too clean. My idea was to keep it spotless and polished, reflecting the kind of people who'd hang out in a place like this. But about halfway through, I decided to loosen up a bit. Adding just a bit of grime and wear helped tell the story better, like this place was luxurious but had started to show signs of something darker creeping in.

And I wanted my props to show that same balance:

Composition

When it came to composition, I knew I wanted the environment to feel alive, inviting, and full of personality. For me, it wasn't just about arranging objects, it was about telling a story through the placement of every element. I spent a lot of time thinking about how someone might move through the space, what they'd notice first, and how each detail could spark curiosity or emotion.

One of the biggest challenges was balancing detail and simplicity. It's easy to get carried away and overfill a scene, but I learned that leaving room for the viewer’s imagination can be just as powerful as showing every detail. I approached the layout with layers in mind – foreground, midground, and background – making sure there was always something interesting to catch the eye without overwhelming it.

Lighting played a huge role here, too. It's amazing how much it can shape the mood of a scene. I experimented with different angles and intensities, using light to guide the viewer's focus and emphasize key areas. It was a bit of trial and error, but those moments of discovery, when a composition finally clicked, were some of the most satisfying parts of the process. Looking back, this part of the project taught me that composition is as much about feeling as it is about technique. It's about trusting your instincts and knowing when to step back and let the story speak for itself.

Lighting

A lot of Art Deco settings I stumble across take place in darker environments. And I liked the idea of doing it in the daytime. The concept also sets the base for the mood. But expanding further, I started with the sunlight: I wanted the light to be poor in the room and highlight everything I wanted it to.

I added a slight hue to the sun to give it this hazy, dreary look, almost giving it a dreamlike appearance.

Next, I focused on lighting to enhance the atmosphere and guide the viewer’s eye. I placed lights to highlight key areas and props, adding depth and focusing attention where it mattered. I also incorporated emissive materials like glowing signs and window details, which helped break up shadows and add contrast to the scene.

All the lights were set to moveable to leverage Lumen's real-time dynamic lighting. This made it easier to adjust the lighting on the fly and see changes instantly, giving the scene a more natural and immersive feel without the need for baking. The ability to tweak the lights and see the results immediately was incredibly helpful in refining the environment.

By carefully placing lights and using emissive materials, I created a more dynamic and engaging scene. Each light was chosen to support the overall narrative, guiding the viewer's focus and enhancing the environment’s visual impact.

The final result was a mix of dreary and smoky with vibrant, contrasting highlights, which complemented the scene's color palette perfectly. A big thanks to my good friend Tanay Parab, whose expert guidance helped me fine-tune the lighting and bring the scene to life. He's an incredible lighting artist, and his advice was invaluable in getting the lighting to feel just right.

To be honest, the entire project was a challenge, but that's exactly why I enjoyed it so much. I wanted to push myself, sharpening the skills I developed during my time at Think Tank Online while also diving into new workflows and concepts. This project gave me the perfect opportunity to explore areas I wasn’t as comfortable with, like animation, more detailed sculpting, and trimsheet workflows.

One of the toughest parts was putting my own twist on the concept. It took a lot of trial and error to make the scene feel cohesive and personal. I went through countless iterations of the same elements, rearranging architectural pieces and agonizing late at night over whether certain decisions would work. Those moments of doubt were frustrating, but they taught me to trust my instincts and stick with the process. Even when things felt impossible, a bit of persistence (and a lot of coffee) eventually led me to solutions that clicked.

Texturing some of the larger assets was another steep learning curve. The spire, for example, was particularly tricky. At first, I tried using unique 1:1 textures, but the result wasn't as crisp as I wanted. Then I experimented with tileable and material blends, but they still didn't give me the clean, polished look I had envisioned. After a lot of frustration, I decided to tackle the entire thing with a trimsheet approach. It was tedious and felt a bit like playing UV Tetris, but it worked beautifully in the end, and I was thrilled with how it turned out.

In hindsight, every obstacle was a chance to grow. This project wasn't just about creating a scene; it was about challenging myself to think creatively, adapt to problems, and refine my process. That's what made it so rewarding.

Conclusion

Thank you so much for taking the time to read about this project and my journey as an artist. This environment took about 4.5 months to complete, and while it wasn't always easy, every setback taught me something new. I didn't just grow technically; I grew in confidence, patience, and the ability to trust the process, even when things felt uncertain.

What I love most about creating environments is how the smallest details can make something feel alive. Whether it's the worn edge of a chair or a texture that hints at the story of who lived there, those elements are where I feel most at home as an artist. This project reminded me why I fell in love with environmental art in the first place.

To any environment artists out there, If there's one thing I've learned, it's how important it is to surround yourself with the right people. Mentors, peers, and even just friends who understand your passion make all the difference when the challenges feel overwhelming. Don't be afraid to seek feedback, ask for help, or simply share your excitement about what you're working on.

Finally, pursue the work that excites you, no matter how daunting it feels. It's okay to take small steps; it's okay to stumble. Progress doesn't have to be perfect to be meaningful. And if you're ever unsure about the next step, know that you're not alone. So many people are willing to help if you just reach out. Thank you again for letting me share my work and story. It means the world to be part of a community that truly celebrates creativity.

Sean Morris, 3D Artist