Copper Pulse

Copper wires sprawl across the workbench in a tangled thicket, their frayed junctions emitting a sharp scent of ozone that stings the nostrils. A violet flicker pulses from a dying neon filament, its rhythm syncing with an internal cadence until every twitch feels deliberate and planned. As these motes of light settle into place, the chaotic surge finds its center. Gravity pulls the fraying threads downward toward a final, heavy compaction where impulse hardens into architecture.