Prompt

A vast, inverted desert suspended in the stratosphere of a gas giant, its dunes composed of solidified starlight and crystallized auroras, shifting in slow, silent waves under the gravity of a rogue moon. Above, a network of floating, translucent libraries drifts on thermodynamic currents, their shelves made of frozen sound waves and encoded in the language of forgotten constellations. Each book glows with a different hueamber for lost histories, indigo for unspoken emotions, silver for dreams that never took form. At the center of the desert, a single, perfect obsidian clock ticks backward, its hands carved from solidified time, and every hour it releases a puff of iridescent dust that forms fleeting, sentient

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