My Wives Are A Divine Hive Mind-Chapter 82: The Seventh Day On The Third Timeline Attempt

"Looks like things went the same as you planned it, Kivas," Samael said with a small yet prideful smile.

"Hey now, Sammy, you’re going to inflate my sister’s ego this way," Blanchette said with her usual wide and creepy smile.

Kivas could be seen standing with both arms open and palms aimed to the soil, attuning to the land with the new threshold of divinity that she had accumulated until now.

"It’s not like everything is fully attributed to me," Kivas anxiously chuckled. "You took part in the plan creation, and it’s not like I’m the one who does everything."

"You need to be prideful of your achievement," Yoiglah bellowed. "You took accountability for your insight and searched for the needed key to make it all happen."

"Praise bombings won’t work on me, you know?" Kivas sighed with a smile. "The scattered but unified Vaingall might be my idea, but everything that happens on the Karasu Association site can be fully traced to Samael’s effort."

The seventh day of Kivas’ continued survival rose beneath a sky veiled in streaks of violet mist.

Vaingall’s breath pulsed with strange rhythm—its land no longer merely resisting distortion, but folding itself into organized intent.

The soil accepted her influence fully now. The wind carried meaning. The divine signatures embedded in the shrine’s radius resonated with a low, harmonic pulse that extended into the surrounding region like veins filled with slowly circulating ink.

And somewhere deep beneath that rhythm, the threads of a new alliance had begun to solidify.

Living Black Clouds entered one of the pieces conjoined through many other pieces of intentionally scattered Vaingall.

They landed on the ground. A second after, humanoid figures with black schema clothes appeared with menacing helmets reminiscent of a sharp black bird’s beak.

Seeing those figures’ arrival, one of the Clatur Tribesmen pressed a sigil carved onto a stone statue, whispering words onto the stone ear.

"The first accommodation has arrived, I repeat, the first accommodation of the Void Crow Collaboration has arrived."

Five days prior, on the second day of this timeline, Samael had dispatched a delegation of six Blessed Limbo Tier Divine Constructs to Solvish Keep.

They claimed to represent the Celestial Avatar, the Benevolent One of Vaingall, a newly stabilized divine domain rising from distortion’s ruin.

This alone would have earned them ridicule or dismissal due to the unmatching constant of the information stream coming to Karasu—except for one thing.

Lyenar was there.

She hadn’t yet revealed her current status to the bastion. Her outward identity remained intact—a trusted priest of Solvish Keep’s doctrinal council, known for her calm reasoning and deep ritual knowledge.

In the last timeline, she had already become Kivas’ Shrine Maiden, tethered to the divine infrastructure of Vaingall through soul-bound resonance.

This time, she held back that truth, choosing instead to play a longer role—her loyalty hidden beneath the very soil of Vaingall’s grand illusion.

When the Constructs requested an audience with the Solvish Chapter’s inner leadership, it was Lyenar who offered contextual coperation.

She invented a past association—claimed she had once attempted to attune to a distant primordial deity in her studies, and that these emissaries resembled the dream-specters invoked in that process.

She explained the strange halo of hieroglyphs on the constructs’ body, the way their presence reminded that of divine existence.

And because she was known, because she was trusted, because her voice remained calm.

They believed her.

Jovial, director of the Solvish Chapter of the Karasu Association, accepted the meeting.

She stood tall among her peers, draped in gray plumage-like shawls, her eyes sharp with insight too ancient for her apparent age.

She exuded an aura like feathered dusk—always half-shadowed, but never hidden. Her subordinates observed from behind veils and etched masks.

Black crystal recorders hovered nearby, absorbing data. No words in that chamber went unarchived.

The Limbo Constructs delivered their offering not as a plea, but as a declaration. A signal of willingness.

They offered information. The only currency that Karasu valued more than blood.

Amongst the exchanges, two key pieces were shared.

The first was the fall of Zarangar Valley.

A silent collapse. A predestined erasure. According to the Constructs, the premonition was recorded from the first timeline—Kivas’ original run before she understood death was a gateway to reset.

On the third day of that timeline, before she had even grasped the rules of her own survival loop, Zarangar Valley’s inhabitants had vanished. No prior announcement. No cries for help. Just severance.

A bastion reduced to an empty civilization

The Constructs described how the one responsible—never named, never identified—had lingered in the church’s perimeter of the bastion. An echoing signature had remained behind—divine, shifting, alien to any known artifact.

The second piece of information concerned the Crimson Helot.

The Limbo Constructs didn’t simply repeat what was already known. They confirmed the most dangerous suspicion already spreading among Karasu’s upper analysts.

The Nightsilk Order had lost control.

The Crimson Helot no longer was under the fearful reign of the Nightsilk Order’s overwhelming secrecy and prophecy-like divination capabilities, because they had developed one to counteract it.

They had developed a ritual framework capable of invoking an Original God—a domain-mirroring entity of divine scale, capable of reshaping land and sky—within a single day.

The Limbo Construct gave detailed schematics of the previous ritual that devastated Vaingall during the second timeline attempt.

The data included sigil compression patterns, spatial displacement effects, faith catalysis methods, and the speed of manifestation, the start from invocation to full-scale transfiguration—membranes over the sky. Teeth across the soil. Flesh-grinding spires rising from the mouths of riverbeds.

They showed projected visualizations. Imagery drawn from memory shards of the prior run.

They spoke calmly as they recited the death tallies and the environmental impact ratings that would potentially result if the Crimson Helot began preparing for such an instant ritual.

This information was far beyond any public archive. It was the kind of revelation that could alter the behavior of multiple factions.

The kind of data Karasu would have bartered entire archives to obtain.

In return, they agreed.

The Karasu Association would open channels. Vaingall would be acknowledged as an emergent divine territory, and even be recommended to other factions of humanity.

Exchange could begin—measured, observational, secured through encoded relay and civil interaction.

A day after the exchange, on the third day of this current timeline, Karasu moved.

Not alone. The Hephae Association, the Void Hunter collective that had jurisdiction over Zarangar Valley, joined the investigation, and many more that Kivas hadn’t even met before.

Though their pride resisted accepting outside help, the evidence was overwhelming. Karasu’s pressure and the stakes left no room for hesitation.

An elite force known as the Enenra Squad was deployed.

No formal roster existed for the Enenra. No information. No testimonial records. No known confirmed numbers of their members, nor was the commanding chain. They were a rumored unit of indistinct composition, nun-human and supernature by nature.

And they were also rumored to be powerful enough to take over an entire continent with enough preparation.

Regardless, all that was known—or believed—was that their formation required at least one of the three conditions to be deployed on a site.

The potential of multiple Nihil-class threats, untraceable metaphysical anomalies, and the possibility of forbidden-level anomaly contamination.

"So the Karasu is going all in on this," whispered one of the Void Hunter joining the mission. "The fact that we all will forget that they are alongside us in this mission is quite scary if you think about it."

"Well, they couldn’t remove people’s memory of their conceptual existence," the other said while shrugging. "And the fact that they are even here, means that we will succeed this mission, which is a good thing, am I right~?"

Where the Enenra Squad moved, black mist followed. An amorphous field, dense and alive, flowing outward from their presence. It trailed them like sentient fog, consuming all light and all clarity.

Those who encountered them remembered nothing beyond silhouettes and vapor trails if they were lucky. Words faded from memory. Images dulled. Even sound slipped into oblivion.

The few reports that remained always shared a single detail.

Enenra never left anything unfinished.

Except this time.

On the fourth day of this timeline, the Limbo Tier Constructs stationed as Vaingall’s emissaries received the encrypted report from the Karasu Assocation related to the development of the information told by them.

Zarangar Valley had fallen.

No alert had reached the Hephae Association. No message dispatched. No defense system activated. The entire bastion’s activity ceased to exist and it didn’t even feel strange to the upper ups, as if something sly is manipulating beyond the conceptual level.

A perfect erasure, with not a single survivor.

The Enenra confirmed it with precision. Ground readings, soul-layer residue analysis, void-fracture profiles—all aligned.

The people not only disappeared but consumed, structurally unraveled from its base metaphysical foundation.

Worse, the entity responsible escaped after a fervent clash with the Enenra Squad.

Even under the full pursuit capabilities of the Enenra, the trace was lost.

No conclusion, the perpetrator remained unknown.

Ever since the confirmed reliability of the Zarangar Valley’s incident, the new faction occupying the intentionally scattered Vaingall had been regarded as a precious informant and a sworn ally of the Karasu Association.

Karasu’s Agents also began to get stationed within Vaingall within the cooperation.

Amongst those Agents were a familiar individual.

"The people here are jacked as hell..."

A short figure with a pair of mouse ears and an oversized katana visible from afar.

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