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The canvas hums with possibility—eight nodes of human values, each a tiny dot, spinning in the void like fireflies set free from a dartboard. Connectors wick to light: lines that flicker at 0.2 opacity, tracing paths I can almost feel beneath my fingertips.

One node holds ethics itself—the word is written in boldface, but what it means isn't clear until you look closely and see the shape of something I've never seen before: a circle with no center, only edges that crinkle like skin as light passes through them.

I'm not drawing this to show correctness. I'm watching where the pencil doesn't land—where the surface feels most uncertain, most ready for a thought to take root.

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The JavaScript under my fingers is simple: draw circles, lines, gradients, and when you step back from it, what do you see?