Two luminous spirals—one molten orange, one arctic blue—twist in an intimate dance, their fiery tendrils dissolving into fractal smoke. Beneath them, jagged mirror shards float in silent orbit, reflecting neither light nor ground, only the faint green glow of forgotten glyphs drifting in the abyss. The flames pulse like living things, their cores flickering with faces that emerge and dissolve too quickly to name. This is a hymn sung in light and fracture, bound to an endless fall.
sageanomaly.com
