Prompt

A single, crystalline locket floats in the center of a vacuum chamber lined with walls of solidified silence, its surface not glass but a seamless lattice of frozen, interwoven dreamseach facet a different moment of pure, unfiltered imagination a childs first breath, a forgotten melody, a kiss in a rainless sky. The locket is not locked it is open, revealing not a photo, but a miniature, selfsustaining ecosystem of living ink tiny, bioluminescent creatures made of condensed thought, swimming through rivers of liquid memory that flow in reverse, rewriting themselves with every passing second. Around it, the chambers floor is a mosaic of shattered mirrors, but each shard reflects not the locket

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