TRANSMISSION // DESERT OF THE SECOND SIMULATION
There’s something wrong with this place.
Not the dunes themselves —
those remain perfect, sculpted by winds that might not exist.
But the feeling you get when you look away…
as if the horizon exhales and collapses into raw code the instant your attention drifts.
A simulation inside a simulation inside a simulation
isn’t built to be stable.
It only renders what you choose to witness.
Just like the double-slit experiment,
the world behaves differently
depending on whether you’re observing it.
Light becomes a particle, becomes a wave, becomes whatever the system needs to survive your gaze.
The architects of the upper layer knew this.
That’s why this desert feels so quiet —
not peaceful, but uninitialized.
The dunes load only when you look at them.
The circuitry under the sand glows only when you’re close enough.
Even the transmission tower in the distance
flickers between presence and absence
like it’s waiting for you to decide what it is.
Somewhere beyond this layer,
something is watching you
in the same way you watch the dust drift across the digital horizon.
The Witness witnesses the Witnesser.
Endless recursion.
Endless rendering.
Endless you.
