My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind-Chapter 186: Another Day In Athera

An open-platform satellite drifted in silence above the planet.

With no air, no sound, and only the cold void and the faint glow of Earth below, 14 figures sat around a circular table made of nothing visible, as their forms were swallowed by perfect black silhouettes. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

The moon hung behind them at just the right angle, turning every single one of them into a hole cut out of starlight.

The woman at the head of the table spoke first. Her voice arrived directly inside every mind, warm and clear despite the vacuum—as if they possessed a greater will to manifest despite the lack of medium for sound to travel.

"Thank you for coming, Paragons. For once, all fourteen seats are filled with no absences and no proxies. In a way, it is something that is worth celebrating at the next meeting."

A low chuckle rolled across the table. "Feels strange," a man said, his silhouette leaning back. "Last meeting we barely scraped eight of us. I was starting to think some of you had died and forgotten to tell us."

Another voice, rougher, cut in. "I paused a full conquest for this. Whatever this is, it better be worth the delay."

The leader flicked one finger.

A holographic pane blossomed above the center of the table, crisp and glowing. Data scrolled in neat columns.

"Twenty-five hours ago," she began, "the third confirmed Otherworldly Visitor event in recorded history took place in Farragruel District during the Insectoya swarm.

"Two individuals—designated Noirette and Blanchette—were initially misclassified as Demons until a deliberate elaboration. The Technological Advancement Department has then taken the two of them into a friendly custody. And so far, they are cooperative, non-hostile, while currently housed under TAD protection."

Someone snorted. "Noirette, and Blanchette? Hmm, sounds like they're from the next district over, not another world. Like you know, the Germanic Frankish way of naming things."

"The hell is Germanic Frank-fish…"

"Language convergence happens," another Paragon replied calmly. "Speaking of Otherworldly Visitor, the first one we confirm, Fogseed, spoke the same universal tongue a century ago. So, maybe the worlds can also run parallel in more than physics."

"Who the hell is Fogseed…"

Another silhouette shifted, the outline of broad shoulders tightening. "So why do we need the Convergence of Paragons for this topic? I thought that another dimensional war was happening. Turns out it is something that already happened in the past."

The leader's voice cooled a fraction. "You're one of the newest Paragon, Mirae. Go read section twelve of the report."

Silence fell as the holograms flipped pages on their own.

Several older Paragons froze the moment the relevant paragraph appeared.

One exhaled a sound that was half laugh, half gasp. "You're joking."

"No," the leader said. "Both visitors claim origin from the exact same continuum as Fogseed, a world referred as Fathomi. Not only that, it has been confirmed that they have the same metaphysical signature, same base language root, and the same blatant interest in uncovering the nature of Ego the moment they come here.

"Nickal Oz, the Head Researcher of the Technological Advancement Department, hasn't pressed the connection yet—she's currently treating them as independent natives of that world—but the probability matrix for the relation to be finalized is sitting at ninety-eight point seven."

Another voice, soft and almost reverent, "A century ago, Fogseed saved half the planet from the Nothing King through the usage of power that differ from Ego and Demonic Essence. If these two are in any way related to him…"

The disgruntled conqueror leaned forward, silhouette sharpening.

"You're telling me we might have three keys to the same lock sitting in one city?"

"Possibly," the leader answered. "As of the current, all departments of the Heroes of the World are ordered to observe any development instead of actively meddling and influencing their course of action, while also providing them everything that they need in the effort of familiarizing themselves with the social culture and common knowledge of Athera."

Without knowing it, Noirette had brought a torch into this flammable world.

And she had no idea how big the fire would become.

Back in the high-rise apartment the TAD had loaned them, the living room lights were dimmed to a comfortable amber.

The walls were soundproof by default, but Blanchette had layered her own ward on top—just a soft ripple in the air that swallowed every word before it reached the hallway in case that there was an attempt to eavesdrop.

Noirette lay sideways across the couch, legs dangling over the armrest, and a bag of cheese puffs balanced on her stomach.

The television played some late-night variety show where four grown adults tried to guess which idol could eat the most spicy noodles without drinking water.

Noirette was invested.

Meanwhile, Blanchette sat cross-legged on the floor, back against the couch, tablet propped on her knees.

Her fingers flew across the screen, mashing buttons in whatever multiplayer battle royale had caught her eye at the moment.

The occasional victory fanfare leaked from her earbuds.

Noirette crunched another puff. "Don't get too cozy here. We still have a plane to catch back to Fathomi once we crack this Ego thing."

Blanchette didn't look up. "This isn't my first rodeo, sister. One of the previous loops—you, me, the whole gang—we actually dragged Fathomi all the way into the information age.

"Skyscrapers, fiber optic, idol cafés, you name it~ We even had something called the Fathomi Wide Web. Also, you were obsessed with cat videos in that erased timeline."

Noirette paused mid-chew. "…You're kidding. Then again, given enough time and stats, considering that my past regression didn't find themselves turning into Shallowed Ones, they might."

Just by thinking that alone, Noirette began reviewing her plan to the process of modernizing Vaingall in her head.

Blanchette finally glanced back, smirking. "So? Want to do it again this timeline? Modernize Fathomi, give everyone streaming services."

"I take this as the fact that you're addicted to online gaming now."

Blanchette laughed and turned back to her game. "Sure, sure~"

A comfortable quiet settled for a minute, broken only by the television host screaming about someone's milk allergy.

Noirette rolled onto her stomach. "Random question, Blanchette."

"Sure, what's up."

"Marqe. Is he unique to this loop, or did previous timelines have their own Marqe running around?"

"That question doesn't sound random."

"Hmm, I suppose so~"

Blanchette shrugged without looking away from her screen. "Every true reset wipes the board clean after the point of time you entered Fathomi.. Anything that originated from Fathomi post-Kivas—people, ideas, consequences—gets erased.

"Influence is included. Say in one loop we spent a full year building an interdimensional embassy on some random planet. Then, reset hits, poof. The embassy might still be standing if there are people outside of Fathomi working there, but no one remembers why it's there and all the paperwork from our side will simply vanishes.

"The same rule applies to Xenorealm interaction."

"I see. Thanks, I know better about the whole reset mechanic now."

The game on Blanchette's tablet let out a triumphant jingle. She pumped a fist. "Top three! Suck it, you loser!"

Noirette snorted. "Proud of yourself?"

"Very."

Hours slipped by.

They binged three episodes of a drama about office workers who were secretly superheroes, discovered a web comic about a girl who could talk to vending machines, watched reaction videos, argued over which idol group had the best choreography, and at some point ordered delivery fried chicken because the apartment's auto-kitchen was 'too healthy'.

By the time the sky outside started turning pale blue, Noirette was slumped against the window, forehead pressed to the cool glass.

Empty snack bags littered the floor like casualties.

"I'm scared," she said quietly.

Blanchette paused her current match and pulled out one earbud. "Of?"

"This place. It's too easy to like. I'm starting to feel like I could stay here forever and forget why I ever fought so hard to survive in Fathomi."

Blanchette crawled over and flopped beside her, shoulder to shoulder. "You won't. You always go back in this kind of scenario. That's the one constant across every grand loop that I remembered."

"I'm amazed that you can still think and feel emotion like an average person after knowing your piece of story."

"You should be proud of me~"

"I'm proud of you."

"... Wait, who the hell are you!? My real sister would never say that!"

"Come on, give your big sis a hug~"

"Gyah! A doppelganger had already taken over her!"

While wrestling with Noirette, Noirette stared at the sunrise painting the city gold.

"Damn, we need to awaken Ego fast. Blanchette, is this really your first time coming to Athera? I hope that you aren't, because I need an in-depth understanding of Ego A.S.A.P!"

"This is the first time I got to this world, and like I said, it is also the the first time I met Marqe too. Also get off of me, you skinwalker!"

After kissing Blanchette on the forehead as a form of teasing, Noirette let her gremling of a sister go and pushed the window open anyway—didn't matter that the air conditioning was perfect.

Real morning air slipped in, cool and crisp, carrying distant traffic and the faint smell of street-vendor coffee.

Sunlight hit her face.

She closed her eyes and let it soak in.

"I want to go home before I start learning how to abuse the credit card Nickal gave us."

"Too late. I already ordered you a figurine of that noodle-eating idol."