Their collaborations started small. A set of bookends with a seam of polished steel. A lamp that cast shadows like ribs. People began to ask for pieces—functional, strange, and beautiful. Orders arrived tucked between moments of life: a call during lunch, a message at midnight. Each request was a small permission to coax the EZX toward something new. The machine hummed obligingly, cutting and bending, pressing and carving. It did not sleep; it listened.