Once, he’d known the chemical make-up of that sky, had been able to conceive infinity. The trick had been not to think of it as stretching eternally away from him, but as a sphere.
Now there was a new view. He thought it sounded like a pan-dimensional Venn diagram.
He picked up the battered Edda from beside his mattress. Asgard, Hel, Jotunheimr: those universes coexisted, their gods thwarting place and time.
Trust a poet to imagine the Multiverse a millennium before any scientist could confirm it.