Prompt

A single, selfoscillating filament of reversed gravity pulses through the core of a floating, inverted library suspended in the stratosphere of a gas giant, its structure not wood or paper but woven from the solidified resonance of a thousand unspoken stories that never found a reader. The filament does not vibrateit unreads, each contraction unwinding a paragraph into its original silence, releasing a wave of zeroentropy narrative that dissolves the fabric of meaning into a mist of iridescent, crystalline letters, each one etched with the chromatic echo of a sentence that never reached an ear. The librarys shelves are not made of woodthey are fossilized moments of concentration, each one a hollowedout echo of a

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