Prompt

A single, selfsustaining constellation of bioluminescent moss pulses in the hollow core of a suspended, inverted mountain range carved from the petrified breath of a species that never evolved, its filaments not organic but spun from the chromatic residue of a sunrise that never touched a planet that never formed. The moss does not glowit unglows with each pulse, retracting a billion years of photosynthesis into its core, condensing into a dense, jade lattice that resonates with the harmonic frequency of a photosynthetic song sung in reverse by a forest that never learned to stand. The mountains peaks are not rockthey are hollowedout spires of solidified stillness, each ridge etched with the thermal after

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