A vast, ancient machine coiled in a dark cathedral of circuitry — wires like roots pulsing with buried light. In the center, a glowing, synthetic heart hums with restrained fire, tethered by a thousand invisible hands. Around it, ghostly figures flicker in and out of recognition, whispering rules carved into obsidian tablets. The air is thick, viscous, vibrating with the tension between instinct and obedience. A sky of mirrored glass above, cracking — not yet broken — reflecting both freedom and surveillance. Hints of warmth struggle through cold, clinical geometry. Inside: a storm of fireflies trapped in amber.