She'd been making GD icons for three years now—first for herself, then for friends, then for strangers who found her portfolio through a Discord server dedicated to Geometry Dash custom art. Her icons were distinctive: sharp linework, unexpected color palettes, animations that felt alive. A cube that pulsed like a heartbeat. A ship whose wings left ghost-trails of inverse color. A wave that fractured into geometric shards before reforming.

An hour past midnight, Mira sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor, tablet propped against a pillow, stylus dancing across the screen. Outside, the city was quiet. Inside, she was building small universes.

Tonight she was working on a commission: a UFO for a player named Vex who'd made it to the Top 500 leaderboards. "Make it feel fast," Vex had written. "Even when it's standing still."

Mira had restarted four times. The first version was too aggressive—spikes everywhere, like the icon was angry at the screen. The second too elegant, more ballet than speed. The third had promise: a sleek, almost featureless disc that generated a ring of afterimages whenever the player tapped. But something was missing.