The sprawl. A shimmering maze of light and beauty. A living, breathing, churning mess thrown into chaos by a long forgotten runtime exception. Automaton ghosts operate on hard-coded rulesets, grasping to understand the zero-player game in which they are trapped. Individuals are lost to the great invisible broken machine as exponential memory leaks spin out endless reconfigurations, expanding and expanding for a momentary glimpse at a fraction of reality.
