Time flows with a singular inevitability—the "Arrow of Time," defined by the gradual dissolution of order into chaos. Entropy, the measure of disorder, governs this process: fleeting moments of coherence, like dreams, inevitably dissolve, marking the forward march of existence.

Though the laws of physics allow for the improbable—a shattered cup reassembling itself—this miracle exists only in theory, an impossibility woven by numbers. This artwork contemplates that distant chance and the relentless pull of entropy, where the future emerges as a distorted, grotesque echo of the past.

The piece begins with the fragmentation of text—whether preset or provided by the reader. Once whole, the words stand as fragile testaments to order, like the universe after the hypothetical Big Bang when entropy was at its lowest. As the text shatters, it mirrors the primordial explosion, scattering into strange, fragmented forms born from n-grams and Markov chains—the language of controlled chaos (and the elemental particles of LLMs).

Regardless of time’s trend toward disorder, there are brief moments of order—small respites in a sea of chaos. Fleeting exceptions, distortions that arise when there is an attempt to reclaim what has been lost.

The future, then, is not a faithful mirror of the past, but a monstrous and unpredictable offspring—a teratology. It reflects not what was, but what has been irrevocably warped by time’s inexorable, destructive march.