Prompt

A single, selfreplicating mosaic of shattered porcelain and solidified silence lies scattered across the surface of a vast, still desert made entirely of powdered time, each fragment etched with the faint, iridescent script of a language spoken only in dreams. The mosaic does not reassembleit resonates, emitting not sound, but a low, subsonic pulse that causes the desert to ripple like a frozen lake of liquid memory, each ripple forming the shape of a question that was never asked. The sky above is not skyit is a thick, layered veil of reversed auroras, their colors shifting in sync with the emotional weight of a decision made in silence. The fragments are not brokenthey are alive, slowly reorganizing into

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