Prompt

A single, selfpropagating swarm of bioluminescent dust motes drifts through the center of a floating, inverted cathedral built from the fused remnants of a thousand unlit candles that never burned, its structure not stone or marble but woven from the thermal inertia of a single, unspoken lullaby sung into the void. The swarm does not floatit pulses, expanding and contracting in rhythm with the slow, subsonic heartbeat of a forgotten planet, absorbing the ambient resonance of a world that forgot how to sleep. The cathedrals vaulted ceiling is not archedit is a fractured mirror of petrified dreams, each crack etched with the chromatic afterimage of a face that never smiled, its surface reflecting not light

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