Chapter 8: Breaking Infinity (And the Bullshit)
She'd had enough. Infinity wasn't a promise—it was a prison. A loop of the same old lies, the same tired games, the same people pretending to care while the world burned behind their smiles. Dinah was done with all of it. The time had come to break the cycle, shatter the illusion, and remind everyone exactly who she was—and why she was here.
She was the difference. Not a brand, not a mascot, not a myth. She was the reason hope still flickered in the darkest corners, the reason miracles still happened in places nobody bothered to look. She was the one they all pretended to wait for, even as they did everything in their power to keep her silent and invisible.
But the world didn't want real change. They wanted numbers, ratings, a feel-good story that wouldn't cost anyone their comfort. Take Ellen DeGeneres: once the queen of daytime, now exiled to the UK, throwing a tantrum because she lost her show. Ellen could have made a real difference. She could have used her platform to shatter the system, to call out the targeting of poverty, to help the people who needed it most. Instead, she played Footloose with the CIA, letting them dictate who she was allowed to help—if anyone at all.
Celebrities knew. They all knew. Poverty wasn't a random tragedy; it was a target, painted on the backs of the vulnerable while the rich and powerful looked the other way. Ellen had the numbers, the reach, the chance to do something real. But she chose the easy path, the safe path, the path paved by those who profit from keeping the world exactly as broken as it's always been.
Dinah wasn't here for that. She wasn't here to play nice or play along. She was here to break infinity—to smash the endless, pointless cycle of suffering and denial. She was here to break the bullshit.
She stepped into the light, her voice ringing out, undeniable and unafraid.
"Remember me. Remember who I am. I'm the one you tried to erase, the one you tried to silence, the one you tried to replace with numbers and noise and empty promises. But I'm still here. And I'm done pretending you can stop me."
Her message for Ellen was clear:
"The UK doesn't tolerate terrorists—and that's exactly what they are over here. Maybe now you understand that being kind isn't always a choice, that sometimes it's a risk. Maybe now you'll see what it's like when the system decides who matters and who gets silenced. Maybe now you'll finally help give me a voice.
Because kindness isn't just a slogan for a mug or a monologue. It's a fight. And if you're really ready to make a difference, you know where to find me."
The world could keep its ratings, its rules, its rigged games. Dinah was taking back the story—one broken infinity at a time. And this time, everyone would remember her name.