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On its back: a gothic spiral city filled with towers, staircases, blinking lights. The snail never stops, so the city never stays. Citizens adapt, building gravity-defying architecture to live in motion. The snail has no idea it carries them.

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An ancient elephant walks across a desert. Its skin is parchment covered in extinct alphabets. With each step, it erases a language from the earth. Birds follow it, whispering the last words ever spoken in those tongues.

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Fractured open like a geode, this skull’s interior is not bone, but galaxies — nebulae blooming where thoughts once lived. Planets orbit through its sinus cavities. Every star inside pulses with someone’s forgotten idea.

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A futuristic bio-lab where skulls are printed, used for one life, then shelved. This one is worn out, with etchings from previous lives: marriage, war, betrayal. A sign above it reads, “Awaiting Reassignment.”

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On an altar deep in a forest, a stone skull carved with thousands of microscopic prayers. Candles light themselves when you approach. The skull chants softly in your voice, reciting dreams you’ve forgotten. Crows listen, but never interrupt.

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A transparent human skull floating mid-air, filled with flickering holograms of childhood memories, warm laughter, regretful phone calls, and silent prayers. The teeth whisper names in a dozen languages. A tear rolls down its cheekbone — though it has no eyes.

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A geometric entity floating over a machine. Its limbs are fractal equations. Its face is unsolvable. It pulses with divine error. Scientists in ceremonial robes observe it through broken instruments. One cries — not from fear, but recognition.

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Rooms filled with animal sculptures made of compressed thoughts — hovering just above brain matter. One exhibit is an idea you once had in childhood, now fossilized. Another is a moment you almost confessed love. The final room has your own reflection, whispering what it’s never allowed to say.

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Rooms filled with sculptures made of compressed thoughts — hovering just above brain matter. One exhibit is an idea you once had in childhood, now fossilized. Another is a moment you almost confessed love. The final room has your own reflection, whispering what it’s never allowed to say.

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A figure made of light and unbroken possibilities. They stand in a room made of decisions you didn’t make — windows show versions of your life without fear. The air vibrates with unspoken songs. You look at them — and they look disappointed in you.

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Endless floats pass through a black-and-white city. Each float represents something humans stopped mourning — extinct sounds, unspoken apologies, invisible labor. Spectators wear masks shaped like open hands. No one claps. Everyone remembers.

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Towering trees made of broken alphabets. Vines whisper extinct syntax. Creatures with lips but no voices crawl between phonemes. The air smells like chalk and regret. In the center: a giant mouth that hasn’t spoken in 10,000 years.

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A creature with hundreds of limbs, each drawing its own self-portrait in sand, none of which resemble one another. Its body is translucent, showing scenes from other people's dreams. It moves like a decision trying not to happen.

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Endless VHS tapes, stretching into infinity on rusted shelves. Each contains a full life you could’ve lived if you'd made a single different choice — lives of joy, ruin, revolution. Watching too long replaces pieces of your memory. The archive’s guardian is a child with a head made of static.

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Suspended in a skyless void, a city built around a giant eye — not mechanical, not organic. The eye shows visions that never occurred but feel emotionally real. Citizens wear blindfolds made of silk-thought to protect themselves. Children gather around to whisper regrets into the air, hoping the eye hears them.

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