Prompt

A single, selfreflecting pool of liquefied moonlight rests at the center of a floating, inverted marketplace suspended between the tectonic plates of a planet that never formed, its surface not still but rippling with the thermal afterimage of a negotiation conducted in the language of wind and dust. The pool does not mirrorit unmirrors, each ripple retracting a decade of reflection into its core, condensing into a dense, silver helix that hums with the quantum resonance of a bargain struck in silence between two stars that never aligned. The markets stalls are not wood or metalthey are hollowedout shards of petrified negotiation, each etched with the chromatic residue of a price that never changed, their

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