hand pressed against

A hand pressed against the blackened steel sent ripples spreading outwards, a subtle give that blurred the sense of solid edge. Luminescence flared along these waves, tracing invisible routes felt as vibrations deep within bone. The shifting patterns resembled layered rock, not as something remembered *in* the metal but actively forming—a slow accumulation of energy and light. Though displaced by touch, the steel steadily returned to its original form, contracting like a cell after division, holding that potential for change yet refusing complete surrender.