Day 1, Seventh Month, Year 1047 Post-Apocalypse (2nd of July 3084 C.E.)

The Mirrored Halls shook and shivered as they were reshaped according to the whims of the presiding god. Any mortals who were present might have been terrified or confused, but the gods showed no reaction. They were used to this happening. The Celestial Home was not particularly stable at the best of times, much less when emotions were running high.

“You’re all making a mountain out of a molehill,” Deirianon said, sending an annoyed look at their current host. “Please calm down, Ged.”

Gediarno frowned at him. The god towered over everyone else even here, sitting down on a log around their, rather stylized, campfire. The rumbling in the distance ceased, however.

Alianais snorted softly. She always found it ironic how the god of peace tended to adopt the local human idioms and even customs - or tried to, in some cases - despite how his politics clashed with the sentiment. She wondered if his current nonchalance had something to do with it, too. He was the one who always preferred things to stay as they were and didn’t like possible change, although it usually didn’t go far enough to be willful blindness.

“Seriously,” Deir continued, turning his annoyed gaze on her now. “So what if another young World Traveler died? You all do realize this happened years ago, don’t you? Perhaps decades? It took that long for word to reach us.”

“This isn’t just another World Traveler, though, Deir,” Benerron spoke up. “This ‘Slave-Empress’ was the first person to truly challenge the tyrants in a long time. Perhaps the only one who ever truly rivaled them.”

“At least the only external challenge to the Merses,” Ger said. “Assuming you can call it external, considering they really can’t blame anyone but themselves for creating a slave uprising.”

“Whatever.” Benerron shook his head. “The point is, even with the information we’re able to get being so sparse and fragmented, it’s pretty clear that they aren’t just going to fade away. And if the mana-eaters aren’t stopped …”

“It does seem that way,” Alianais agreed. “What do you say, Leian?”

Unlike the higher gods, Leianaleine was standing. She’d been gazing at the horizon, though clearly still listening in, and now turned to face them fully. “They really aren’t mana-eaters,” she said with a slightly annoyed expression. “They use mana as a power source, they don’t eat it.”

“You would know,” Deirianon muttered, giving her a dark look.

“Yeah, yeah,” Ger waved his hand. “Anyhow. Are they coming or not?”

“Probably, or at least they’ll try, eventually.” Leian shrugged. “I don’t think they’re just going to stop wanting to expand. That said, it has been several centuries, as best we can tell. A lot can change with time.”

Alianais nodded. They didn’t have a god of time or anyone who was particularly good at sensing the currents of time between worlds, but the basics were easy enough to fathom. The Earth — or this version of it, anyway — had been ‘going fast’ for quite some time now, although it appeared to be slowing down, as far as she knew.

“I don’t think we really need to worry about them reaching us, though,” Leian continued. “According to our latest information, they’re still a long way away. Even in the worst case, we should have decades, more likely centuries of warning. And honestly, I don’t think their power is going to last that long. All empires fall.”

Alianais nodded firmly, while Deirianon rolled his eyes.

“Good,” Benerron said. “It’s shameful to admit, but I was not looking forward to facing them again.”

“Shouldn’t we still prepare, just in case they do show up eventually?” Ger asked, a slight frown on his face.

“We should,” Alianais said. She fixed her gaze on Deirianon. “And we all know that the technology and scientific knowledge this world had are our best bet. The mana here is nothing special, but the locals were pretty far ahead, considering.”

He scoffed. “Next thing you’re going to propose resurrecting the Hivekind.”

“Actually, now that you mention it …”

Deir slammed a fist down onto the log he sat on. Sparks showered off it, although it remained undamaged. A few of the others shifted uncomfortably on their own seats.

“Seriously, Alia!” he said. “We are not doing that! How often do I have to say that? Can’t you just be content to leave things as they are? Just leave things be?”

“Excuse me, you’re not the only one who decides these things,” Benerron put in.

Gediarno and Deirianon rolled their eyes. She knew they found the fact Ben often agreed with her ironic, and annoying.

“Deir has a point this time,” Eteinas put in. The short and slender goddess had almost disappeared in the shadow of Ged beside her and let her presence fade into the background while she stayed silent, as she often did. She leaned forward now.

“Even if it was possible to bring the Hivekind back, it would upset the balance in the world, for very uncertain gain. We don’t need them. And like Leian, I don’t think we actually need to do much about the Merses.”

“I don’t know …” Ged said. He sounded uncertain. “We should be doing something.”

“It’s not like we’re helpless,” Deir said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Alianais sighed as the gods began arguing back and forth. Deir was adamant in defending the status quo, and no one else seemed truly invested in contesting it. Ged seemed unsure of what to do, Eteinas was disinclined to take risks, and Benerron didn’t have the patience for a drawn-out argument. She knew no one else would settle the matter one way or the other, either.

“Enough,” Deir finally said. “I think we’re all agreed that we’re not getting anywhere with this. Let’s just put a pin in it for now. We can continue to discuss this at our next meeting, if you really want to.” His tone didn’t leave much doubt that he’d rather talk about anything else.

“We need to act now,” Alianais muttered.

In truth, she wasn’t feeling a lot of urgency, either. But this was an opportunity to finally give things a push, instead of watching helplessly while the others kept cementing the status quo. She would be damned if she was just going to squander it.

Deir gave her a dirty look and none of the others reacted. Alianais heaved a sigh as the meeting broke up. Like always, Etainas was the first to leave, and the others quickly followed.

Alianais grabbed hold of Leian mentally and willed the both of them back to her corner of the Mirrored Halls. The territories weren’t clearly delineated, but it was considered rude to linger in another god’s home for too long. She didn’t want to give Ged any cause for offense right now.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Leian said as they arrived.

The world swirling around them into a blur of colors stabilized into Alianais’ home. Right now, she’d recreated a typical apartment from the turn of the century, before the Cataclysm. She sat down on an armchair while Leian perched on the armrest of a sofa.

“Could it have, though?” she responded, absentmindedly fiddling with the decorations and changing the color scheme from beige to red.

Leian cocked her head slightly and frowned. “What are you going to do now, Alia?”

Alianais smiled sardonically. “Come now, Leian. I’m sure you have some ideas. Wasn’t it you who told me that keeping that strange hybrid of an AI and a mana spirit around would be useful and necessary one day? ‘How many people are there who remember any of this world’s advanced knowledge? It wouldn’t just be immoral, but also stupid to throw away any who do, even just a soul’, wasn’t that what you said?”

Leian frowned again at having her worlds thrown back into her face. Alianais could tell that she realized they were not speaking about the old computer right now. “If you’re talking about the Hive Queen egg …” she trailed off.

Alianais smiled with a hint of satisfaction. “Deirianon will throw all kinds of fits, I know. But with things changing, the others will understand.”

Leian threw herself backwards to rest on the sofa, her legs dangling over the edge. “Not sure this is a good idea, Alia,” she said. “Did you think this through at all?”

“You really are an impudent little bitch, aren’t you, Leian?”

“Now look who’s being rude,” Leian said, straightening up enough so she could see the other goddess’ playful glare. “If only your worshippers could hear you now.”

Alianais rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. “You were saying?”

Leian sighed and sat up straighter once again. “Look, Alia,” she said seriously. “I’ve been managing the System for you for centuries —“

“And I appreciate it,” Alianais interrupted her.

“You’d better,” Leian retorted, smiling slightly again. “You all would hopelessly screw things up without my help. Anyway, I know the System quite well, I dare say better than you or any of your high-and-mighty companions. And it’s not set up for the Hivekind. We’d either have to leave them out, which I don’t recommend, since it would be blatantly unfair, or kludge things together. It would cause problems. Especially since every Hive is a little different from others, and who knows how this one would develop.”

Alianais listened to her, frowning. “I get the feeling this isn’t what you’re really driving at,” she pointed out.

Leian stayed silent for a moment, before she continued. “No. This is a young woman’s soul we’re talking about, from before this planet was graced by our presence.” Her sarcasm was palpable. “Frankly, I wouldn’t blame her for being pissed as hell, to borrow a local expression. She’d be the only living ‘Progenitor’, after a fashion, and — come on, do you have any idea how the Delvers would react?”

“Funny you should mention that,” Alianais muttered. “You’re one to talk about —“

“It doesn’t matter,” Leian interrupted. “We’re talking about Hivekind here, Alia, not any old race. Trust me, they’re … well, they weren’t created for landscaping assistance, right? And ironically, they don’t tend to take well to being controlled.”

“Yes, yes,” Alianais responded, waving her hand. “I won’t try to control them, Leian.”

“I hope so. You know what happened to the people who made them?”

“No, I don’t,” she replied, giving her a look. “And you haven’t told me if you do know.”

Leian shuffled a bit in her seat and glanced out the window, which didn’t currently show anything in particular. “Well, they’re not really around anymore, are they?”

“Which is because they created the Hivekind?” Alianais asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow and giving her another look.

Leian sighed. “Well, no, I suppose you’d probably say it wasn’t. Although I think you could call it a contributing factor, at the very least.”

“This discussion is going nowhere,” Alianais said. “I made up my mind, Leian. Your concerns are noted and appreciated, but come on. Give me some credit. You can come along, if it will ease your mind. And besides, don’t you think it would be the more moral choice to give that young woman a chance to live if we can, instead of letting her languish in an egg?”

Leian sighed, then nodded and stood up. “Alright, I guess you have a point about that. Fine.”

Before she could continue the debate, Alianais grabbed Leian’s arm and took her along as she stepped out of the Mirrored Halls. Their surroundings shivered and changed once more, and she felt the change in the surrounding mana as they stepped out of the gods’ home. It always left her feeling as if she was a mortal stepping onto the peak of a tall mountain, where the air was thin.

They had arrived on the edge of the Great Forest in what used to be the middle of Europe, still one of the most populated regions in the world. Although that did not go for the forest itself. Alianais could not sense any mind more intelligent than a beast for many kilometers, until the human villages beyond the forest’s edge or the elementals in the lower parts of the mountains.

“Now what?” Leian asked. “Can you even do what you’re clearly planning?”

“Sure,” Alianais responded.

She took another step, waving at the door guarding a back entrance into the old facility carved into the rock to open it, and closed it after Leian followed her through. Then she took a few steps to cross the corridors and rooms, until she stopped at the side of the large pod hiding her prize. The mana formations the Hivekind had laid over the place were faded, but traces of their effects still lingered.

Alianais examined the contraption for a few moments, although she didn’t really need her eyes to do such a thing, then waved her hand slightly once more. The lid peeled back and the level of mana decreased again, somewhere between falling dormant and seeping out.

Leian stepped forward and looked down with obvious interest. “I see. You’re lucky this is still working, you know.”

“It has been in stasis for quite a while now,” Alianais responded calmly.

Leian shook her head. “It’s not really stasis.” She glanced up, her eyes twinkling with barely hidden interest. “I mean, it’s close enough, obviously, but it wasn’t really frozen in time. This egg is clearly about as developed as it could possibly get in there.”

Alianais nodded. “Yes, I’m not sure what would’ve happened if it had stayed there a century longer.” She smiled again. “Luckily, we won’t have to wait for such an eventuality.”

She focused a thread of her will again, and moved herself along with the Hive Queen egg, big enough to contain a human child, to a room she had already scouted. Leian came along with her own power. She’d barely set the egg down before Leian was poking at it curiously.

“How long do you think this will take?” Alianais asked.

“About a year, probably a bit less,” Leian responded absently. “Even with everything, this is some really impressive craftsmanship.”

Alianais hummed in agreement, allowing herself a moment to gaze at the egg and take it in. Its color was the same swirling grayish-brown as most Hivekind’s shells, and from the outside, it didn’t look all that impressive.

“That should work out well, then, with the next monster wave,” Alianais mused. If the timing threatened to get out of hand, she could always persuade Benerron to adjust the wave’s start time a bit.

Leian only glanced at her, before she returned her gaze to the egg.

She was almost too soft-hearted at times, Alianais mused. She was in no position to complain about it, of course, and she generally appreciated it. Still, Alianais would probably have to ride herd on her a little when it came to the Hivekind’s System extension.

Alianais meant what she’d said, she had no intention of trying to control the young Hive Queen or her new Hive directly. But the System was very good for more indirect control. It would allow her to give them the help they would doubtlessly need, but she’d also need a few limits.

Although, to be fair, the Hivekind’s dead creators had done a fair job at that, anyhow. Even if their need to force a single point of failure by using singular Hive Queens as the center of everything had also made them vulnerable. Something the Hivekind had no doubt discovered in the war following the Cataclysm.

Alianais shook off dark memories and instead turned to leave. She still had quite a bit of groundwork to prepare, after all.

“Coming, Leian?” she asked.

“Always,” Leian joked with a smile as she stepped up to join Alianais.

The vault disappeared behind them and Alianais felt a bit of relief as the energies of the Celestial Home engulfed them once more.