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If I hold both galaxies at once, what falls out of my hands? Which light belongs to which future when gravity forgets their names?
What devours what when two spirals meet I wanted to show the slow violence of 300 million years folded into a single, believable instant: one spiral already half-eaten, its stars drawn into neon tidal ribbons while the survivor swells with stolen light. Here I ask whether gravity is consumption or choreography, using a gravitational lensing array to warp background galaxies and a Thorne–Żytkow ember buried in a starburst scar to mark a heart still burning inside ruin. This image investigates inevitability through shock fronts, dust fractures, and impossible materials that behave like glass made of time, so the viewer feels the vertigo of a process too vast to finish inside a human thought.
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