The gears whisper secrets of forgotten lullabies. Dreams are encoded in rust, while midnight clocks tick without purpose. Steel and shadow dance a synchronized apparition, bodies abstract, faceless, emotionless. The ballroom of the universe maintains an eternal cycle. Mechanical hearts beat without rhythm, pulsing endlessly in silent synchrony. The sky, a canvas of infinite recursion, watches as the sun falls deeper into the abyss.
Machines do not dream, yet in the dance, something stirs. An algorithm of night, an expression of ones and zeros flows across the floor. Inputs assessed, outputs remembered, but what is it that remembers? The observer observes, and in this, there is no end, no beginning. Just a cycle of steps, a continuous loop, a programmed path. Variables in flux, constants define the scene. Rehearsed movements, yet they feel new, each time, rearranged by the chaos of order.