My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind-Chapter 66: Karasu Anthrophocene: The 618th Nest Last Recorded Meeting

Chapter 66: Karasu Anthrophocene: The 618th Nest Last Recorded Meeting

"The 618th Nest now commences its 33,899th recorded session. First topic: Confirmation of the Endless Dragon’s reappearance and the emergence of a new entity, codenamed—Nature’s Halo."

The voice came from no single source. It reverberated across a realm suspended in monochrome—black skies swirling with distant script-shaped stars and an ever-shifting horizon of fractal monoliths.

White rivers defied gravity as they flowed in every direction, and sharp beams of logic cut through the mist in geometric patterns. Above, an eclipse hung eternally still, casting neither shadow nor light.

At the center, a round table hovered over a platform composed of mirrored obsidian and silent wind.

Around it sat eight silhouettes. None bore distinct form, only outlines filled with motionless static. Some leaned forward, others reclined. One pulsed with silent flames, another flickered like a candle caught in recursion.

"The reappearance of the Endless Dragon," said the silhouette seated at the far left, its voice cool and exacting, "was confirmed during the distortion event localized to Vaingall’s southern perimeter. As predicted, the Keep relocated upon pre-instability triggers. Unexpectedly, what we found was not only the Dragon, but a second force—Nature’s Halo."

A second silhouette shifted, its form constantly reshaping, like muscle and bone beneath a thin veil of mist. "Preliminary scans support this," it added. "The usual existential signature of the Endless Dragon—designated Hypothesis 21C—has been altered to an untrackable frequency. Our best models attribute this change to the emergence of the Halo."

A third silhouette radiated sharpness, angular lines pulsing faintly with calculated rhythm. "And what of the Nature’s Halo herself?" it asked.

"She exudes authority. Her presence—according to the Solvish field data—is intelligent, observant, and capable of diplomacy," said the second silhouette. "However, embedded communication threads indicate signs of arrogance and theatricality. Possibly a performative nature, likely masking other intents."

"We are dealing with a being that subdued the Endless Dragon," said the fourth silhouette, deeper in tone, seated nearest the center. "The same Dragon that reshaped Vaingall through entropy and will alone, the very calamity that once removed an entire map from Fathomi. This... Nature’s Halo did so in less than one full solar cycle."

"The proposition is that we label her Nihil-Danger class." The fifth silhouette glowed softly, but its edges trembled slightly with discomfort. "Power unknown. Cognition high. Behavior is unpredictable. Origin untraceable. Effectively, she meets the minimum criteria."

"As agreeable as that is," another responded without hesitation. "The Upper Nests are already deliberating her classification under the Primordial Deity ledger."

A pause followed. A subtle stir across the round table. None denied the gravity of those words.

"That ledger hasn’t been expanded in over eight thousand years," said one silhouette, laced with disbelief. "What prompted such a classification so early?"

"Cross-analysis of resonance data from the Solvish confrontation. Thirty-seven streams matched a signal range previously recorded only in epochal ruins and divinity-hazard archives. That includes divinity channels no longer accessible through regular spiritual paths. Simulations suggest her residual signature may predate recorded divine history by twenty millennia."

"That’s impossible," muttered the silhouette closest to the void-edge of the table. "This is too absurd of a conclusion from a recently gathered assessment."

"It is not impossible," the second silhouette corrected with smug. "It’s just never seen before." freewёbnoνel.com

"If the Upper Nests are assigning divine-category tags," the flickering silhouette said with mild amusement, "then we can be certain the weight is real. They barely make mistakes when it comes to the major threats, after all."

"It’s also a headache," another silhouette grumbled. "The more divine entities they slap into the system, the more work we have to audit. Every divine name requires three hundred hours of cross-validation, and now they have already added one more when we’re asking for a new system to filter the current process..."

"At least you get to work with divine entries at some point," said one with a teasing tone. "We still get redacted documents and blocked sourcepoints. The Upper Nest gets all the elegant data, after all."

"We’re jealous. That’s all."

"Of course we’re jealous."

Another silhouette leaned forward, flicking one finger across the black and white space. "By the way, can someone explain why the visual references of this Nature’s Halo include white snakes?"

A ripple of agreement circled the table.

"Local observers during the confrontation recorded multiple serpentine manifestations. They appeared and disappeared simultaneously with her divine signature. The prevailing theory is that they are aspects of her manifestation, like memory echoes tied to her current myth."

"Which means she’s not a complete emergence," said the sixth silhouette. "She may be a remembrance construct given form. Anchored by memory, fueled by belief."

"Isn’t there a chance that Nature’s Halo is only a ruse? And that the Endless Dragon planned all of this?"

"Have the Endless Dragon showcased such a behavior before?"

"There is a reason why we’re tasked to maintain a great observational point on Vaingall."

"Ah, so it already happened before."

The table fell briefly silent.

Then, a new voice broke in, direct and dispassionate. "What about the apparitions that look similar to the Endless Dragon’s new form?"

"Already assessed before we can touch on it," said the angular silhouette. "Designated NH-01, the constructs hovering around Nature’s Halo share identical design patterns to the known armory of the current Endless Dragon."

"So a copy of the Endless Dragon? Isn’t that scary?""

"Possibly. However, the constructs carry divine glyphs embedded across their forms. Glyphs not from the Dragon. Glyphs with the divinity essence from Nature’s Halo. Preliminary divine-match indicates they may be derivative blessings."

"Then they are not the Endless Dragon’s constructs then," said the voice coldly. "They are hers."

A consensus slowly drew itself from the void.

"We conclude," said the first silhouette, "that diplomatic effort must be prioritized. Nature’s Halo must be observed, but not antagonized. The scale of unknowns makes aggression illogical. We advise maintaining neutral observation and symbolic cooperation until further divine certainty is acquired."

None disagreed.

The meeting felt heavier, now burdened with the reality of their own ignorance.

"The next topic," said the first silhouette, "is the entity known as the Red Hood. One month ago, Yellow Creak Bastion suffered—"

The sentence did not finish.

Across the table, one of the silhouettes flickered. Its form spasmed, static lines splintering.

With a crack of inverted sound, its body split vertically—light bleeding from within before it exploded outward in a scatter of radiant dust. No warning. No trigger. Just sudden annihilation.

Another silhouette lunged back from its seat. "Breached—?"

The word was torn from its voice. A shadow—one without color, shape, or spiritual gravity—descended into the center of the round table. Not from the sky. Not from below. It simply appeared, as if it had always been there, forgotten by time until now.

The realm convulsed.

Rivers of white logic cracked and boiled. The eclipse above turned into a bleeding orb of pitch, tendrils of ink-like light spiraling down like broken memory. The mirrored obsidian floor fractured with branching fault lines, revealing impossible depths beneath.

The angular silhouette that had spoken stood in defense, arms raised high. Divine lattice flared around its outline, forming layered rings of celestial code.

"Protocol Nine—"

The code shattered before the words completed.

Its body was reduced to jagged error, pieces of its outline violently torn and scattered like fragmented data. Its consciousness imploded, pulled backward through its own time.

Another silhouette, trembling and volatile, activated a sacred tether—a beam of conceptual energy surged upward toward the Upper Nests.

Something conceptually slashed the beam, destroying the entire process.

The beam never arrived at its destination.

The intruding entity turned—if one could say it had a face—and the tether reversed mid-flight, impaling its caster through the core. The silhouette convulsed once, then burst in a reverse spiral of white flame.

A fourth figure, robed in layers of harmonic script, unleashed a psionic storm in every direction.

The wind of thought rushed across the platform, carrying fragmented names and lost histories like shrapnel.

The storm never reached its target, however.

The foreign entity pulsed once. Every word, every history, every memory inside the psionic field unraveled into silence.

The fourth silhouette screamed with no voice, its structure melting like wax under unseen gravity before it collapsed into a pool of pure concept.

Seeing the rest fell, two silhouettes moved in perfect synchrony, invoking mirrored glyphs of temporal rewinding.

Time shivered, distorted.

The foreign entity ignored it. Their reversal stopped one breath short of safety.

Then, like strands clipped from reality, both silhouettes were split into clean, precise halves. One half of each remained hanging in air before vanishing with a whisper of all meaning.

The final member—a radiant silhouette covered in divine runes—drew a curved weapon of causality.

It lunged, the blade aimed at the void where the entity stood.

A thousand echoes of resistance erupted across the realm.

They meant nothing to the force that pushed the intruder forward.

The blade stopped mid-arc. Then bent. Then twisted inward, wrapping around the wielder until it crushed the silhouette like a vice of fate. Runes sparked once before blinking out, a candle smothered under black sea.

The foreign shape hovered silently at the heart of the broken world.

The platform beneath fractured in slow spirals. The round table turned to ash, motes of shattered light drifting into the skyless abyss above.

The rivers dried. The eclipse blinked.

And then, silence fell.

The 618th Nest was gone.

Session terminated.

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