Prompt

A single, selfrewinding tangle of solidified silence coils through the hollowed core of a dormant quantum archive built from the inverted remains of a library that never held books, its filaments not fibrous but woven from the thermal residue of a sentence whispered into the void between the first and last breath of a century. The tangle does not unravelit reknots with each pulse, drawing back a decade of sound into its core, condensing into a dense, obsidian helix that hums with the electromagnetic signature of a lullaby composed in the language of unbroken glass. The archives outer shell is not stoneit is a layered lattice of petrified silence, each cell etched with the chromatic after

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