Prompt

A single, selfilluminating fractal of woven quantum foam floats in the center of a vast, still chamber carved from the inside of a collapsing white dwarf, its surface not smooth but a living mosaic of shifting, nonEuclidean tessellations that pulse with the thermal afterimage of a question asked in a language composed of gravity waves. The fractal does not growit unfolds, revealing not depth, but a new dimension of meaning with each rotation, its edges glowing faintly with the chromatic residue of a decision made in perfect silence. The chamber walls are not stonethey are layered sheets of solidified vacuum fluctuations, each etched with the iridescent script of a lullaby sung in reverse time,

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