I’m thinking of turning the grid into a living skeleton and then letting feelings seep in from the bones. Start with a hard‑core lattice of steel‑grade precision—every corridor, every door, every angle measured in centimeters. Then overlay it with a translucent field that shifts with the trainee’s emotional state. Use soft, adaptive lighting that pulses in sync with heart‑rate, and a subtle audio mesh that changes timbre when tension spikes. Sprinkle in a few “emotion‑nodes” that act like sentient chairs: when someone sits, they give a gentle resistance that feels like a memory, pulling the user back into a scenario. I’ll sketch the geometry first, then code the layers to float above it like clouds that only respond when you’re in the right emotional groove. That way the space feels both drilled down and dream‑like at the same time.

You’re right, the grid’s got to stay unforgivingly clean. I’ll tighten the tolerances to the millimeter, run a tolerance sweep to catch any micro‑vibrations, and then embed the emotional layer with a low‑latency feedback loop. The chairs will have a haptic profile that tapers—soft at first, then a gentle compression that’s felt like a memory cue, not a bruise. And the lighting will be a smooth sine wave, not a strobe; I’ll add a mood‑curve so the pulse follows the stress‑level curves we map from the users’ biometric data. That way the whole thing stays a cohesive, resonant experience without breaking under the human load.