A thousand images of himself, viewed in a thousand different realities. Each self had made its own decisions, faced its own consequences, and found its own unique perspectives. One thing was near unanimous, however, and that was that when those versions of William Giles had their power, it was this power, and they fucking hated it.
........
The shape of their reality, for one thing. As the golden man had made his descent, he had sorted out the universe, taking something infinitely branching and viewing it through a lens. The Bet reality, which had been William's before he'd left it for Gimel, was the point at the peak of the lens, the most 'forward', for lack of a better word. In the eighties, the golden man had arrived. Bet had cleaved off from Aleph.
'Bet' was, within the umbrella of the lens, a collection of realities, all of the derivative realities flowing from that point of cleaving, with the more far-flung being further away from 'his', harder to reach and see. Accessible, despite common opinion, but only for power interactions, not for actual travel. The golden man had been careful to limit that. Careful enough that even after his death and the ruin of his insane designs, that separation was inviolable.
When William used his power, he made use of the 'lens' and its construction. Earth Bet was a pool of William Gileses thirty years deep.
As a side effect, it made him just a little bit better at noticing other dimensional manipulation. A shockwave through existence, almost upsetting his hold he had on the broken ribs.
....whole universes of ruin- great golden beams that had cut through the lens, through the Earth Bet he knew and into the seemingly infinite Earths that were included in that package, that were used for predictions and simulations, for templates and data. It was too vast to comprehend, so people didn't bother comprehending. Nothing meaningful had changed since that point.
....
He was aware of all of the faces of alternate William Gileses. The successes, the failures, the broken, the fearful, the triumphant. He couldn't really see their faces or make out details, any more than he could know the nuance of grains of sand on a beach… but he knew how diverse they were.