Your subconscious fills out each blank you see, and you rate how good this feels each time.
Every one drops you somewhere. You’re already there before you decide to be.
You already answered it. You didn’t decide to.
It gives you blanks you didn’t know you needed, and adapts to the ones you like.
It runs on your imagination. Nothing is typed unless you want to — the work happens in the second before you answer.
“Like an interdimensional mirror.”
“It drops you into scenes you didn’t know were yours, and your imagination does the rest.”
“It makes me feel free. Like being reminded of myself.”
Real N-body gravity. It’s running behind this page right now.
Two models asked the same question don’t miss in the same way — one reaches for the body, one for time, one writes something nobody wanted. Council runs three of them, then hands the pile to an editor that doesn’t know who wrote what: it keeps whatever lands, rewrites the near-misses, and bins the rest.
You never see the arguing. You just get the line that survived it.