My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind-Chapter 184: Ego, The Manifestation Of Self Worth

Noirette's bare feet padded softly against the grated flooring as she followed Nickal down the corridor, the metal's chill seeping through the thin soles of the patient gown with each step.

The gown itself chafed lightly at her arms, its starched fabric a constant reminder of their provisional status—guests, perhaps, but ones under scrutiny.

Blanchette walked beside her in perfect sync, the white material draping her slender form without a single crease, as if even captivity bent to her unyielding poise.

Nickal led them without haste.

Lab-coated technicians bustled past in controlled flows, their expressions a mix of focused detachment and hurried deference, nodding to Nickal as she passed without breaking stride.

The corridor opened into a vast chamber, its ceiling lost in a vaulted expanse of reinforced trusses that arched like the ribs of some colossal beast.

The floor gleamed under broad-spectrum emitters, segmented into testing grids marked by faint luminescent lines that pulsed in standby mode—ready to delineate zones for controlled phenomena or contain stray energies.

Vast observation galleries ringed the upper levels, shielded by one-way transparisteel panels where unseen eyes could scrutinize without interference.

In the chamber's heart stood a central platform, elevated on hydraulic pillars, surrounded by modular consoles laden with sensor arrays and containment fields.

Noirette settled onto a low bench at the platform's edge, the gown pooling around her legs, while Blanchette perched nearby with her characteristic grace, hands folded in her lap as if attending a casual symposium.

"This is one of our primary indoor testing sites," Nickal said, her voice carrying effortlessly across the open space, amplified subtly by the room's acoustics. "Secure, isolated, and equipped to handle manifestations that could level a lesser structure. It suits our discussion well, especially for this next lesson of ours."

For a moment, Noirette noticed a hint of sadness on Nickal's smile. Maybe the sight of this testing site reminding her of something.

Regardless, it was not something that Noirette wanted to involve in.

The chamber's vastness amplified the quiet between them, broken only by the soft ventilation sighs that cycled purified air in endless loops.

That was until Nickal continued her lesson.

"The existence of Ego has been a cornerstone since Athera's foundation," Nickal began, pacing the perimeter. "But several pieces of evidence lead to confirms it emerged only recently in human history on this planet Earth. This year is AS 255, After Singularity for the abbreviation.

"Athera in itself is only fifty years old as it is composed of numerous lands of varying cultures and origins, which are quite separated before the Heroes of the World comes around.

"And Ego only found to exist in the year five, After Singularity."

"There must have been some form of power before Ego," Noirette ventured her curiosity, "Especially before this Singularity you mention."

Nickal halted her pacing, turning with a casual shrug that belied the weight of the unknown.

"I do not know," she admitted plainly, her hematite eyes meeting Noirette's without evasion. "In fact, nobody knows what happened before the Singularity. It stands as a phenomenon of unprecedented scale and origin, a veil that defies our probes and archives alike.

"Scientists and historians pour their lives into uncovering its truths, but that will be a topic for another day." She grinned then, the expression flashing white against her sharp features, a spark of levity amid the chamber's clinical sterility. "For your first day here, the focus will be the Ego itself and its application."

With that, Nickal extended her hand toward the central console, palm upturned in a gesture both casual and commanding.

The air before her thickened visibly, air of potential coalescing from the ether—faint shimmers at first, like heat haze over sun-baked stone, then resolving into structured forms.

Threads of energy wove inward, guided by her will, condensing layer by layer into a hulking apparatus—a cylindrical vessel of burnished alloy, its surface etched with interlocking gears and conduits that pulsed with inner light.

Vents ringed its base, flaring open with a soft whir, while articulated arms extended from its flanks, tipped with sensor probes that hummed in diagnostic standby.

The machine stood thrice Noirette's height, dominating the landscape like a sentinel forged from ingenuity's core.

Noirette's breath caught faintly, the manifestation's precision was similar to that of Malleable Essence's fluidity—yet constrained, deliberate, as if channeled through a sieve of exacting parameters rather than boundless whim.

Blanchette leaned forward imperceptibly, her smile unchanging, but crimson eyes sharpening with veiled interest.

As expected, this Ego might be the key to resist Fathomi's influence when Noirette came back.

"This is my Ego, and every has their inherent name the moment they are awakened" Nickal said, gesturing to the vessel with evident pride, her voice threading with the satisfaction of creation witnessed anew. "Mine is Tech Savant. It allows me to absorb the concept of technology and enact it into existence as long as I wish.

"However, using it strains my mind and my heartbeat. Prolonged or careless usage will lead to death—a common side effect for the majority of Ego wielders, though some Ego demanded a different cost, and some might not be at all."

She circled the machine slowly, gloved fingers trailing its surface, eliciting faint sparks where conduits met alloy.

The vents cycled a low breeze, cooling the chamber's ambient warmth, while the arms retracted with precise clicks, folding inward like limbs at rest.

Noirette noted the toll already—a subtle sheen of perspiration at Nickal's temple, her breaths measured deeper than before.

"Aside from the mental constraint and heart difficulty," Noirette asked, rising to trace the vessel's flank herself, her fingers hovering just shy of contact, "does it draw on some kind of resources to enact this?"

Nickal's grin returned, sharp and knowing, as she deactivated the manifestation with a snap of her fingers—the machine dissolving in reverse, threads unraveling into motes that dissipated harmlessly into the air.

"An Ego's limit is up to its wielder," she replied. "Meaning that, in the right hands, by theory, an Ego can be essentially limitless in potential and power."

Amazement stirred in Noirette's chest, a quiet bloom akin to the first glimpse of a new horizon—Ego's framework echoing the Well of the Soul's boundless draw, yet self-contained, unmoored from divine siphons or external reservoirs.

No tithes to gods or fates, just the conduit's resolve shaping reality's clay.

It was similar in a way how divinity works, and most importantly, the manipulation of the Malleable Essence in nature.

But yet at the same time, it was much more complex.

"By theory," Blanchette interjected, her voice light yet probing, crimson eyes lifting to meet Nickal's, "can an Ego be used if you come to a different world?"

The question landed like a stone in still water, ripples spreading through Nickal's mind.

Surprise flickered across her features—Blanchette's insight cutting to the heart of their gambit, voicing the bridge they sought between realms.

If an Ego endured beyond Athera's veil, it could armor them against Fathomi's grasp upon return.

The implication of that question alone should be enough for Nickal to guess what Noirette and Blanchette would do after learning the nature of Ego in this world.

Nickal chuckled, "By technicality, an Ego is the manifestation of one's self-worth, in the form of branding a brand new rule upon the universe respective to oneself.

"That means an Ego-wielder of this world can still function in a different world."

Noirette's smile emerged, the pieces aligning with crystalline clarity. "However," she stated, "an Ego can only be awakened in this world."

Nickal's smile mirrored hers, a nod of affirmation passing between them like scholars sealing a theorem. "You got it right. But of course, all of those are merely theories."

Blanchette's gaze drifted to the empty center, where the machine's echo lingered in faint thermal ghosts against the grating. "What is the technology you just summoned?" she asked, pointing to the vanished form.

Nickal laughed outright.

"It was just an air conditioner."

From that point, the session unfolded in structured revelation, Nickal summoning a cadre of Ego-wielders to the testing site—figures drawn from the facility's depths, their arrivals marked by the soft chime of transit tubes disgorging them onto the chamber.

A janitor in grease-stained coveralls manifested crystalline brooms that swept debris into self-igniting voids, each stroke erasing matter from existence with casual precision.

Noirette had no idea that such a powerful ability was used this way.

A chef in crisp whites conjured flames that danced in spectral rings, searing ingredients mid-air into plated symphonies of flavor and form, aromas of caramelized spices blooming ephemeral before dissipating.

"At this point, they are just performing a trick in front of us," Noirette wryly smiled.

"Ahaha, I'm glad that it turn out to be like this."

Noirette and Blanchette observed with keen absorption, the demonstration was a gallery of Ego's breadth, a raw potential leashed to individual whims, each wielder was nothing but a prism refracting the world's rules through personal lenses.

"The ones showcasing their Ego differ from what I expected," Noirette observed. "Are Ego-wielders common in this world?"

"Ego-wielders have no obligation to become Heroes, but a Hero must always be an Ego-wielder. Around thirty-eight percent of Athera's population are confirmed to awaken an Ego. They are everywhere, in a sense—even normal occupations have one or two among their midst."