Prompt

A single, selfreplicating locket made of woven moonlight and fossilized silence floats in the center of a vast, still library composed entirely of inverted, petrified lullabies, each book not bound leather but a crystalline column of compressed, unspoken dreams from a civilization that communicated through the scent of unlit lanterns. The locket does not openit resonates, emitting a low, harmonic hum that fractures the surrounding air into slowmotion shards shaped like the negative space between two hands that never held, each fragment glowing with the faint, subsonic afterimage of a truth that was almost spoken. The library floor is not woodit is a layered expanse of frozen breaths from a thousand unsolved mysteries

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