Prompt

A vast, selfrewriting tangle of bioluminescent roots erupts from the cracked earth of a forgotten subway platform, each tendril not growing forward but backward in time, unspooling the very fabric of forgotten journeys. The roots pulse with a slow, deepgreen light that doesnt illuminate it unilluminates, erasing the memory of every footstep that ever echoed in the tunnel, dissolving each ghostly footprint into a shimmering cloud of suspended, crystalline breath. The platform itself is not abandoned it is unabandoned, its tiles peeling backward like the skin of a wound healing in reverse, revealing not soil beneath, but a layered archive of silent conversations, halfspoken

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