The Epitome of the Infinite

Prologue

"Eve."

"Mm." I was vaguely aware of someone leaning over me, gently shaking my shoulder.

"Evelyn?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm up," I yawned. I rubbed my sore back, easing my throbbing head off the desk and meeting the concerned eyes of my young coworker, Damien.

Damien Andov was this fresh undergrad prodigy who took up an internship at LIVE Corp. with the dual purposes of killing his downtime and padding his already prestigious resume. Studying Augmentation and Cross-Genetics degrees, it was only natural that he would understudy with me. "It happened again."

I sighed and wiped my tired eyes. Ever since I had been "recruited" into LIVE Corp., I had been having these strange visions and dreams, and as of late, they've become more frequent, sometimes making me phase out in the middle of a talk with someone. On a surface level, LIVE Corp. was a non-profit organisation, a beacon of light in our dull mortal existence, the next phase in our evolutionary journey, and a strong advocate of on-site training, which made it the prevailing prospect for multiple universities. As such, there was always a constant influx of the best and brightest minds for the plethora of job positions. But I knew better. And Damien was the only one privy to my knowledge, being the only intern who wasn't absolutely retarded or an overinflated shit.

LIVE was a double-edged sword. While the lab coats conceptualised, and experimented, and looked to a better tomorrow, their tech was brought to the bowels of this infernal machine, weaponized, and sent forth for the world dominating operations that LIVE was built upon. And at the heart of the operation was Braille.

According to rumour, he was just another soldier, fighting for God and Country, when he discovered that his entire unit was sold out to the enemy just so his top brass could get another star on their shirts. It was there and then that he lost faith in both. When he faked his death, and escaped a fraction from being so, he entered the business scene and clawed, bought and eliminated his way to become the top warmongering syndicate in the world. If you were shot by a bullet, it was LIVE tech. If you patched yourself up, your bandage was also LIVE tech. He sold to both sides, and cared for neither. His sole purpose was for the countries to kill themselves off and seize what was left, all without lifting a finger.

Currently, he was trying to harness energy from a supernatural source called the Glow.

A pacifist source.

And he just pissed it off.

How did I know all of this? Because it chose me as its emissary. That's how I ended up here.

"What did I say this time?"

"Here, I took the liberty of recording it this time." He set a holographic recorder down and hit play. A digital cloud shaped itself into an exact miniature of myself. You could have mistaken it for me just working as per normal, save for the fact that my hair was floating around aimlessly, like I was underwater. And my eyes were an odd shimmering shade of silver, relaxed in the way as if I'd fallen asleep with my eyes open. Even my voice wasn't mine, vague and mysterious, like I was the destination instead of the source.

"Red on White, a chip in the glass,
The first dances gracefully in wind like grass.
Fury unrivalled, revenge she seeks,
Insanity and bloodlust as her morals she keeps.

The second awake, even in dreams,
Aware that all is not as it seems.
A glow in the darkness, a wrong in the right,
A purge for all turned away from the light.

Light the feet, lighter the fingers,
Lightest the pockets of he who lingers.
A spark in the eyes, a flame on the fists,
The third an inferno to those who resist."