Prompt

A single, spiraling staircase made of solidified silence and woven moonlight ascends through the center of a vast, still cavern carved from the inside of a dormant volcano, its steps not stone but layers of compressed breath from a thousand unspoken goodbyes, each one glowing faintly with the afterimage of a name whispered in the dark. The staircase does not lead upwardit spirals inward, descending into the earth like a wound that never healed, its railings not metal but strands of solidified regret, humming faintly with the frequency of a lullaby never sung. At the base, a hollow, geometric pool made of liquid memory reflects not the sky, but the shape of a question mark every time a breath passes near it

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