In the vast expanse of the infinity, a spherical particle emits a cold blue hue, stationary in uniform confines that define its place in existence from its conception to its cessation. Not only that, but the particle is accompanied intimately by other particles exact in shape and size, too radiating the same shade of blue, two beside it, one above it and one below.

Those neighboring particles too share adjacent particles, and those adjacent particles share others, as rather than a sole particle existing in an empty space, instead that space is consumed by particles, a seemingly infinite array of them, a countless quantity yet all so similar, all blue globes with the vague resemblance of an Earth.

An infinite beyond calculus, a potential beyond imagination, the multitudinous assortment of particles are overwhelming so much so that in trying to intake more in one viewing, they gradually blur together, losing sense of individuality as the grandeur of scale meshes the absolutes within one another to redefine what is ultimate.

Relinquishing an anchor of relativity, a significant expansion of the particles reveals variation in shading, as distant sectors do not share the exact same hue, and with every uniquely toned sector, the greater image diversifies in presentation until it begins to represent an entirely distinct entity far from its components: water.

A body of water becomes clearly visible, a calm water, flat and undisturbed, soothed in its own serenity. That body of water is not infinite however, as instead it’s bordered by vibrant green vegetation, land, grass, the surface. Scattered about the green land are circular brown stumps, representative of trees, which decorate the landscape surrounding the pond.

Not too far from the pond inhabits a large green construct, although not the same shades of grass, but darker and less vibrant. The construct is also defined by intent ridges and corners, composed of various rectangular shapes combined, long rectangles connecting broader hubs, neighbored by islands of long but noticeably smaller rectangles. All of these rectangular shapes have the same artificial shade of green, hidden in the natural grass.

The finite rectangular image, depicting the stronghold borders not too far beyond the base, is projected on an extensive black board, with blue arrows pointing from and towards it. Those arrows originate from and signify other rectangular images depicting various other complex rectangular constructs, although in diverse tones and biomes, some being in boundless orange deserts and others in dense white snow, all of the construct’s coloration reflective of their biomes like camouflage.

Distinct from the set of stronghold images are other windows which display schematics such as bar graphs and diagrams of various systems including human bodies, cylinders with tubing and fuses, and chemicals. There are also other windows which seem to exhibit moving horizontal bars indicative of live progress as it seems processes are being executed at the time.

Amongst the cosmic canvas of content is a construct not emitting light like all others, not flat and being projected from a screen, but rather a physical entity with complete tangibility. The pale white entity has a round top with four locks of white hair, the head attached to a body dressed in a senile leather jacket worn of age with visible creases and graying.

The being remains stationary like the particles, standing in front of the immense sea of information, all being built, analyzed, processed, refined, and integrated into a sole thought.

Brushed against his back are white locks of hair, scarce and degrading. Silent breaths travel through the mouth ajar with slightly parted lips, raw and chapped. Diagrams of the brain reflect off the dull blue iris, softened and jaded.

Shattering the stillness, the iris is veiled by the pale eyelid from the top, concealing the eye for a moment before then being retracted, once again exposing the iris to the diagrams.

“The procedures to sabotage all target strongholds have been polished. All weapons systems are operational and precise, including all Anti-Exmatter variants. The nature of Operation Entropy will provide nearly infinite initiation windows, although celerity is preferable. Have you calibrated for deployment in all the precise positions? The ones chosen as most secure?” elucidates and inquires the deep, commanding voice of the man, which resonates into the abyss and echoes eternally, depressing with every echo until silence.

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“I can confirm they have been. I have also been monitoring all the positions for shifting activity that may compromise them, however as of now that has not been the case for any positions, thus they should remain optimal,” reports the British male voice in response, speaking directly into him with a formal tone indicative of respect.

The man nods his head, acknowledging the stage of the operation. He remains silent, contemplative, calculated. If words do not need to be spoken they are not. Efficiency is centric to the success of the mission. There is only so much time.

In spite of such rigidity, the voice incites conversation itself, posing “May I ask what your intentions are with the information regarding the origination of the Exhuman enhancement mutations?”

Initially fazed, the man repeats in a curious tone, “Intentions?”

“As in: do you intend to discuss those matters with the founder of the serums?” clarifies the voice in hopes to reach better understanding.

The man remains silent for a few moments, his head not turning, his eyes maintaining their gaze on the surrounding displays. He then simply conjectures, “What gain is there to be made from such confrontation? Ultimately as you had explained, any reversal or suppressive treatment tailored to the mutations won’t be necessary as the Anti-Exmatter arsenal will be a surefire solution, so I see no need to involve her over a…coincidence.”

“I understand if that interaction may be difficult and feel needlessly heavy, if you believe that it is best to not insight her, the decision is yours. However, even if this does not reward you with a tactical advantage, there may perhaps be other reasons to want to inform her. This matter may be…personal to her in a way where she may wish to be aware,” mentions the voice informatively, persisting in this discussion even if it’s derailing from the primary operation.

A sigh is released into the cold air as the man lowers his head, and a gentle breeze hoists his hair and pushes them to drift before eventually being brought down to station against his back.

The man explicates, “It’s that reason too which is why bringing it up would be problematic. Since her devotion to accompanying this property, I’ve managed to curve her attention onto the other guests, which has allowed me to continue my operations and projects without her concern. Of course I am aware she is aware of the work I am doing, but since she is preoccupied with the others and currently has no truly grand reasons to focus on my work, she has continued to stay distant from this operation. However, if I were to disclose the information regarding the advancement of her serums, unraveling that deep thread will push everything else to the side and make her prioritize my job, it will cause her anxiety which is precisely what we do not need, especially given how close we are to the conclusion of this whole mission. Upsetting her will only cause greater problems, she can live her life not knowing this largely irrelevant detail about a conflict that will soon be no longer.”

In response, the voice sighs back, its tone harboring defeatism as it admits, “Well, I will maintain my contract and not take matters into my own hands; if you prefer to leave her in the dark, I will respect that.”

“I’m not leaving her in the dark,” refutes the man in a sudden defensive reaction.

“I apologize sir, but that is precisely what you are doing,” reinforces the voice in a confidently stern voice, unapologetic contrary to its words.

“I…,” the man lets out a fatigued sigh, unable to argue. He stares down in deep contemplation, thoughts flooding his brain while he remains silent as ever. He then shakes his head, as though in denial, his locks being thrashed back and forth. His fists curl as he combats his own mind before freezing, and remaining in that position for several seconds. He then lets out another sigh, albeit gentle and mellow.

At last, the man raises his head, and hesitantly accepts, “I’ll…visit her. That is no vow to divulge the matters we’ve discussed, but I will…let myself consider it. Make a snarky comment, and I’ll turn right around.”

Still not fully at terms with his own decision, the man makes a slight turn and begins marching forth towards the screens that surround and entrap him. He continues to approach the screen until he steps straight through, his body vanishing into the walls of his cell. After the disappearance of him from within the cylinder, his footsteps can still be heard, echoing into the void, gradually softening as he distances.

Eventually those footsteps begin to clang with intense reverberations indicative of trekking the bridge, as he continues off, leaving the holograms still projecting the plethora of intel he hadn’t looked away from for hours.

The holograms continue to maintain their presence even after the departure of the man, for even if the inhabitant was temporarily removed from its place, it was destined that he would always return to his cage.