The haze thickens into cables that breathe. She runs barefoot through arched decay, red silk trailing like spilled wine across cold tile. Above, the ceiling writhes—pipes and wires coil like intestines of some forgotten god. Shadows stretch longer than her stride; something metallic and unseen draws nearer. A fragment of the endless night: pursuit woven into the very walls. 1/1 digital ink dream from the unfolding nocturne.