Prompt

A single, selfsilencing chime of reversed time hangs suspended in the center of a vast, still atrium carved from the inside of a defunct quantum computer, its surface not metal but woven from the solidified echoes of a single, unplayed note that resonates in the frequency of a memory never formed. The chime does not ringit unrings, each vibration pulling sound backward through the air like a thread being pulled from a tapestry, leaving behind faint, crystalline trails of silence that form the shape of a question written in the language of unbroken glass. The atrium walls are not stonethey are layered sheets of frozen data streams, each etched with the iridescent residue of a decision that was

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