Prompt

A single, selferoding scroll of woven shadow, shaped like a spiraling, nonreflective parchment of unlit ink, unfurls at the center of a vast, still archive suspended in the vacuum between two collapsing tides of forgotten time. The scroll does not unravelit unwrites, each fracture dissolving a layer of narrative that never existed, revealing a hollow core shaped like the negative space between two pages that never turned in the same breath of silence. The archive is not wood or stoneit is a layered expanse of solidified narrative inertia, each shelf etched with the emotional residue of a story that was almost begun, its surfaces vibrating with the faint, harmonic afterimage of a voice that never dared to speak. The

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