inside the limbo (lol)

divergence (prologue)

Some doors are not meant to be opened, but they'd already long since crossed that threshold.

The elites of humanity in their monochrome labs, sentencing the rest to an existence that can barely be called that. Their sentience taken, marched in drowsy lines through a maze of lonely, grey towers.

Then there was the boy- an escapee, managing to evade the hostility of the world they created, but never truly free. He'd been absorbed into their magnum opus, the Huddle, and broke it out. He gave the mass its momentary freedom. But with the failure of its escape, the intelligence he'd contributed in his assimilation was no longer there. 

The mass of limbs laid catatonic. The only indication it was alive was the occasional twitch of outstretched fingers or a ripple similar to how one would shift when adjusting their position in bed. It lamented over its own imprisonment, grieving the life they'd never had.

And time marched on, though they barely knew it. Day in and day out, glancing out panes of bulletproof glass at a grey and empty sky in between observation and experimentation. So it was onto the next thing. The next innovation. The next attempt to tamper with forces not meant for their intrusion. They'd already invaded the psyche of living things, seeking the comfort and power of control, and yet they still sought more.

Though they thought they'd perfected society, their hubris remained, and they figured it was in their right to harness the universe itself. To peer under the veil and maybe catch a ray of hope between the heavy curtains that cast thick shadows over the dismal world they'd created.

Nearly a year of experimentation produced a machine unlike anything they'd ever created. An attempt to tear a rift and to crawl through to the other side. A collider that could, supposedly, generate enough energy to open a wormhole to the same location on another earth.

The scientists watched with clipboards clutched close to their chests. The atmosphere hummed with energy, their hearts thrumming as it powered up. This was it. The machine came to life, filling its iron lungs with musty air. The scientists stared. It stared back.

The Huddle twitched in its dark, lonely void as it felt something. A crackle, a disturbance. It bent itself upwards, trying to pinpoint it. One of the hands stretched outwards, fingers wiggling as if longing to grasp something.

And then, in a split second, there was a surge. The machine rebelled. Reality was rewritten, and worlds converged.