Light streams of signals and matter, across the city dome.

It was a technical feast for tomorrow’s salvage.

They were called the storm runners, those who would awaken to the shifting power of the planet.

Lilac stems reach the sun through the shaded rocks of a sunburnt country.

Signals sent from the brain to a receiver - trasmitted to our friends, followers… the universe.

Vessels floating in the ether… Temporarily bridged, they harmonize over leaky abstractions.

We see holographic beings - which energize the motion of others through a glowing membrane, providing passage for passers by.

The Sandfall, a great ring spanning the edges of a crater. Shifting sands for millennia - into the descent. Manned by strange engineers dressed in emerald green and masks of yellow, glowing eyes. Their garb appears to be made of leather. All except the single disc of metal, worn atop their head. These people study the fall, noting changes over time.

An ocean in space. Space and water. Gargantuan ships crash through the waves, their bow reaching the edges of the sea, the bottom of the universe… They crawl along to destinations unknown.

Offline systems whisper via ultrasound like ghosts in the machine.