A fractal of every eternity.
YHWH; 25291791441265ch. 37
Reflections in every direction, “more precise than atoms,” though there are no mirrors, only patterns. “The ineffable God Machine is stretching every which way, almost like an unfolding synesthesia.” Each fractal houses every cycle of God's existence with creation, and deep inside it the narrator finds a body, and is pulled into it in the stone corridors.