Crying Machine is an interactive installation that imagines a future in which the world operates like a factory and productivity overrides human emotion. In this system, people gradually become machines—efficient, polished, and emotionally closed off. The sculpture, built from welded rusted steel and mirrored surfaces, appears flawless but reveals internal decay when approached. Servo-powered spines move in rhythm, while ultrasonic sensors trigger a shift in sound and projection: from shimmering triangles and mechanical audio to scarlet visuals and layered crying. The interior, designed with film art collaborators, is lined with blood-colored fibers and a silicone heart with a single eye suspended at the center. I composed the soundscape using recordings of the machine’s own vibrations and collaborated with two composers to contrast functionality with emotional collapse. The spinning tops forming a pathway were digitally fabricated and motorized to lead viewers into this confrontation. This work speculates on a future where vulnerability is feared, and emotional truth is suppressed in favor of performance. By inviting the audience to explore beneath the machine’s surface, Crying Machine asks whether connection is still possible in a system that rewards only perfection.