My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind

The Mechanoid Control Facility hummed deep beneath Vaingall's central temple, a labyrinth of containers for all of the 954 new mechanoids vessels, each of them housing a brain and a soul of the evil duplicates that were generated by the disintegrated relic.

It was also the 65th day of Kivas Chariot's survival in this timeline, a milestone marked not by fanfare but by the quiet culmination of her vision—a harvest of atonement forged from the ashes of madness.

The facility's heart was a vast chamber, its walls lined with rows of pods like silent sentinels, each a sleek coffin of alloy and rune-etched crystal, housing the transformed remnants of the Parade.

Kivas led the way, her halo casting a soft corona that seemed to coax faint blooms from the chamber's engineered soil.

Behind her walked Samael, Oizys, and Fymnhendyr.

They halted before one of the many pods.

The occupant within—RABU-1, the vessel for the duplicate leader's consciousness—was there.

All of the RABUs were the same in terms of appearance. They possessed the average humanoid height, with their frame slim and lithe, curves subtly accentuated, joints reinforced with subtle seams that promised fluid, silent motion.

The synthetic skin was a supple, matte material that mimicked flesh without the telltale gleam of metal, etched with faint, circuit-like patterns that pulsed dimly, ready to ignite.

The head was a little bit streamlined, features neutral yet eerily expressive—high cheekbones, a narrow jaw, eyes veiled behind a translucent visor that hinted at hidden depths.

"RABU-1, emerge. Report readiness."

"RABU-1 online," it intoned, its voice a harmonious synthetic timbre, feminine and devoid of inflection, yet echoing the duplicate's buried cadence. "Systems nominal. Ready for generic activity."

Kivas's smile was gentle, her golden eyes reflecting the mechanoid's glow.

From now on, they serve Vaingall's heart—lesser echoes of Samael's hive that essentially provide a similar purpose, bound to the center of this civilization, aiding citizens in tasks great and small.

From tilling eternal fields to delving the Eldritch City's xenorealm depths, where Curio Items of high tiers flow like untapped veins.

Of course, that was not exactly their purpose.

The mechanoids were also made as a prison, where the brains were made to be active independently to the body while also providing the computation and decision making.

In a way, it was akin to lending a part of themselves to be used for the programmed directive of the mechanoid vessel, bringing utmost confusion and discomfort to the sentient brain and soul that was trapped inside the synthetic flesh.

It was at that point where it was known that Kivas' sadism knew no bound.

"I hope you have a good time there~"

The mechanoid's visor dimmed briefly, a flicker of internal conflict—the leader's mind raging against the cage—but it nodded.

Samael crossed her arms, "After seeing the control center, they definitely mirror a hive without the divine spark—coordinated, tireless, but leashed."

"No, they are not the same as your Divine Constructs," Oizys chuckled. "It is something far sinister and cruel. Something that I don't want to happen to even my worst enemies."

"You're too soft, Oizys," Kivas hummed. "It is simply an atonement for their sins."

"Well, they are certainly squirming and screaming there," Fymnhendyr casually pointed out.

Oizys was baffled even more. "Wait, you can hear them?"

A day had passed since then until something major happened.

On the 67th day of Kivas's survival in Vaingall, a solemn meeting convened in one of the bastion's temples.

Kivas stood at the center, her smile a carefully crafted mask—more poker face than genuine warmth. Samael, Oizys, and Fymnhendyr sat before her, their expressions a mix of curiosity and tension. The air was thick with unspoken questions, the weight of Fathomi's chaotic metaphysics pressing down on them all.

Kivas's voice broke the silence, casual yet deliberate. "Soon enough, I'll undergo my third apotheosis."

The words landed like a boulder in still water. Samael's draconic eyes narrowed, skepticism etched into her features. "Another one? Is this because you made Fymnhendyr the third Genesis Core bearer?" Her tone was sharp, probing for clarity in the murky waters of Kivas's declaration.

Oizys, her violet halo flickering with unease, leaned forward. "Wait, what? Samael, explain. What's the connection?"

Samael folded her arms, her black-and-crimson hair catching the temple's dim light. "The second apotheosis happened not long after you, Oizys, became the second Genesis Core bearer. If the pattern holds, Fymnhendyr's new Core is likely triggering this third one. It's not random—Kivas's transformations are tied to these Cores."

Fymnhendyr, her presence a subtle ripple of otherworldly energy, nodded calmly. "Samael's correct. I can confirm it now, after appraising her statement. The Genesis Core I bear is indeed the catalyst."

Oizys's eyes flared, her voice rising. "Fymnhendyr! Why didn't you say anything before? You just let this bomb drop?"

Fymnhendyr raised a hand, her tone unruffled. "I didn't know until Samael spoke. I appraised her words and confirmed their truth. The Core's effects are not something I can predict—it's too vast, too unbound by simple causality."

Oizys's shoulders slumped, her halo dimming. "Sorry. I shouldn't have snapped."

"It's fine," Fymnhendyr replied, her voice soft but firm. "We're all navigating the unknown here."

Samael's gaze shifted to Fymnhendyr, her curiosity now tinged with frustration. "Then explain this: why does imbuing a Genesis Core trigger an apotheosis in Kivas? What's the mechanism?"

Fymnhendyr's eyes gleamed with an ancient, unreadable depth. "The Genesis Core is not just an artifact. It's an existence from a higher plane, unpredictable even to beings like us. Not even your Divine Constructs, Samael, can fully grasp its nature, despite their imparted knowledge."

Samael's lips tightened. "True. I've prodded my Lust Tier Construct for answers about the Core. Nothing. It's like trying to read a book written in a language that doesn't exist yet."

Fymnhendyr turned to Oizys. "Do you remember what I told you about maturing your Genesis Core? To become a Divine Hive like Samael, capable of producing Divine Constructs?"

Oizys nodded, her black feather wings twitching slightly. "I can't forget—you said I need a mutual understanding of essence with Kivas. But we haven't achieved it, no matter how hard I try."

Samael pouted, her voice laced with mock indignation. "I even let you sleep with Kivas alone for that purpose. Nothing! What a wasted effort."

Fymnhendyr's lips curved into a faint smile. "The Genesis Core isn't about direction or meaning. It's about alignment—specifically, alignment with Kivas. Think about it. Why are the only Soulmates bonded to Kivas beings like us? Samael, once the Endless Dragon, wisest and mightiest in Fathomi's history. And you, Oizys, marked by pain and suffering, but also…" She paused, her gaze locking onto Oizys. "Kivas herself, from another timeline."

Kivas's smile faltered, her eyes widening. "Wait. What?"

Oizys exhaled, her voice heavy. "It's true. I'm you, Kivas, from the second failed timeline. It branched into three perspectives, and I come from Samael's perspective—the Flesh God incident."

Kivas's gaze darted to Samael. "You knew?"

Samael shrugged, a wry smirk playing on her lips. "I'm surprised you didn't figure it out sooner. The signs were there—you should've pieced it together."

Kivas chuckled, a sound both amused and bittersweet. "I considered the possibility, but I never thought it was actually true. Another me, from a timeline that collapsed? That's… wild, even for Fathomi."

Fymnhendyr's expression grew serious. "Oizys didn't regress in power like Samael and me. That's because she was already an Exo Human before the process of the imbuement began, despite her Well of the Soul still marking her as a Fateling.

"The reason for that transformation is unclear, however, since prodding into the history of a timeline unrelated to ours can be a little bit hard for me at my current state."

Kivas tilted her head, her voice soft but probing. "Where are you going with this, Fymnhendyr?"

Fymnhendyr's smile returned, sharp and knowing. "Fathomi is not a perfect world. It's deeply flawed, a chaotic tapestry of fate and entropy. Your timeline resets, Kivas, aren't regressive or static. They're progressive. Each reset builds on the last, a continuous thread where the past fuels the next timeline's future. You're not starting over—you're advancing, carrying the weight of every cycle forward."

The temple fell silent, the weight of Fymnhendyr's words settling over them. Kivas's poker face cracked, revealing a flicker of awe and dread. Samael's eyes gleamed with calculation, piecing together the implications.

Oizys's dark violet halo pulsed erratically, her mind racing to process her own existence as a fragment of Kivas's past, trying to find if there was anything vital that could be used in this conundrum.

Samael broke the silence, her voice low. "So, the Genesis Cores are accelerating this progression. Each one you imbue, Kivas, pushes you closer to… what? A final apotheosis? A new plane of existence?"

Kivas shook her head, her voice steady but uncertain. "I don't know. But I feel it—the pull. It's like the Cosmic Soul Norn gave me, aligning with something bigger. Fymnhendyr, what happens when I hit this third apotheosis?"

Fymnhendyr's gaze softened, but her words carried a chilling edge. "I can't predict that. The Genesis Core defies even my understanding. But I know this: your bond with us—Samael, Oizys, and now me—is reshaping Fathomi itself.

"And each apotheosis, whether it succeed or fail, will makes you more than a divine being.

"You're becoming a fulcrum, a point where fate and entropy collide."