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Of course, it wasn’t just Mika who had changed.

Charlotte had changed too.

Not dramatically. She was still the proud, haughty girl she had always been.

But she wasn’t a spoiled brat anymore. She was more reserved now, more thoughtful of others.

She knew when to stop, when to act, when to drop her act and be serious. She was still a devil from time to time, playing sneaky pranks and teasing others, but she always knew her limits.

The family was utterly relieved by the transformation.

They had been worried that Charlotte would never grow out of her spoiled phase, that she would always be the demanding, entitled girl they had known.

But now, they could see the woman she was becoming—strong, compassionate, wise beyond her years.

And they were proud.

Of course, after the incident, Mika had finally figured out the truth behind Charlotte’s passive blessing and how it had been subtly influencing everyone around her.

He immediately warned the Battle Angels and had them strengthen their mental defenses, ensuring that Charlotte’s influence could no longer affect them so easily.

Charlotte, meanwhile, became mortified as she realized just how much her Blessing had been unconsciously manipulating the world around her.

Determined to gain control over it, she began training herself to suppress her Blessing, refusing to let its passive influence affect others without her awareness.

—

As for the aftermath of the massacre itself, it took an interesting turn.

Immediately after the event, the entire world had locked their doors and barricaded themselves.

Rumors spread like wildfire: the Battle Angels were going to take over the world, enslave humanity, rule as tyrants just as the Eternal Queen had done!

But to everyone’s surprise, nothing happened.

The Battle Angels simply went silent. They issued no statements, made no demands, and showed no interest in seizing power.

They minded their own business, almost as if the massacre had never occurred at all.

And then, a few days later, they began deleting all footage of the event from every source they could find.

They silenced broadcasting networks, took down videos, and made it clear that discussing the massacre was forbidden.

Normally, something like that would be impossible.

Once something was broadcast to the world, it was out there forever and impossible to contain.

But this wasn’t just a powerful organization making a move; this was the Battle Angels themselves, and after witnessing their power firsthand, no one dared to defy them.

Even the trolls and conspiracy theorists who would normally have reposted the videos in defiance stayed silent.

They were terrified that the Battle Angels would find them, would track them down, would slaughter them just as they had slaughtered all those others.

Of course, the footage couldn’t be completely erased.

There were still people talking about it in forums and private chats, but it was very underground.

No one openly shared videos or discussed the event. Offices, classrooms, public spaces—everywhere, there was radio silence about what had happened.

It was the largest mass-censorship in history. And it worked.

The Battle Angels had two reasons for their actions.

First, they themselves didn’t want to be seen as demons who would come after you if you committed a sin.

They wanted to live peaceful lives, free from the fear and hatred of the people they had sworn to protect.

Taking down the footage was a way of maintaining their sanity in a world that had suddenly become far more complicated.

The second reason was more personal.

In a few frames of footage, barely a flicker lasting only milliseconds Mika’s face had been visible.

His concealment had wavered for just a moment and in that moment, the cameras had caught him.

The Battle Angels couldn’t allow that.

They couldn’t let anyone connect the dots between their precious boy and the horror that had unfolded in the square.

So they erased it. All of it.

And the world forgot.

—

As for the world itself, the question remained: had it really changed?

Had evil truly stopped?

Had the fear of the Battle Angels been enough to keep criminals in check?

The answer, in the immediate aftermath, seemed to be yes.

The year following the massacre saw the lowest crime rates in recorded history.

The most terrifying criminals, the ones who had managed to escape the initial purge didn’t make a single move.

There were barely any murders, no burglaries, no acts of violence. Even petty crime like pickpocketing practically disappeared.

It was as if the entire world was holding its breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

But the shoe never dropped.

One year passed. Nothing happened.

Another year. Nothing.

Another.

And slowly, the fear began to fade.

People realized that the massacre had been a one-time thing. The Battle Angels had no intention of repeating it.

They were still the same benevolent protectors they had always been.

Fauna still worked at the hospital, treating patients with the same kindness and dedication as always.

Yelena still acted as a representative in interviews and public events.

Nadia still spoke at conferences, fulfilling her duties as a member of the government.

They didn’t seem bloodthirsty at all. They didn’t seem like tyrants.

They were just...themselves.

And so, gradually, the world began to forget.

Not completely, of course. The memory of that terrible night would never truly fade.

It would always be there, lurking in the back of people’s minds, a dark stain on the history of the world.

But it became less immediate, less present. People stopped thinking about it every day. They stopped flinching when they saw a Battle Angel in public.

And the crime rates began to climb again.

It wasn’t as bad as before—not quite. But it was getting there.

The noble houses and organizations that had always resented the Battle Angels’ authority especially began to act unruly again.

They knew that if they did anything truly crazy, the Battle Angels would respond.

But they also knew that if they kept things quiet, kept things discreet, they could probably get away with it.

And in a way, the world became the same place it had always been.

Mika watched it all happen with a wry smile.

His grand plan to eliminate evil from the world had failed.

All those lives that had been lost hadn’t accomplished what he had hoped it would.

But he wasn’t disappointed in himself. Back then, he had been naive and fueled by rage and every negative emotion imaginable.

He had genuinely believed that one act of overwhelming violence could terrify evil out of existence.

Now he understood the truth: evil would always proliferate. It was the balance of things.

For good to exist, evil had to exist too. That was simply the nature of sentient beings—human, elf, or any other race.

Could he have made it permanent? Perhaps.

If he had turned it into an annual purge, a regular culling of the wicked, that would have changed the world forever.

But he wouldn’t do that. Not only because the Battle Angels refused to carry more blood on their hands as they had slaughtered enough souls in the war and deserved their peace.

But because Mika had realized something fundamental.

The weight of the world was not his to carry.

In the past, he had believed that great power demanded great responsibility.

He had aspired to be a hero, a saint, someone who constantly helped others and protected the innocent.

But he had matured since then.

He understood now that no one person could bear the future on their shoulders.

Human nature was human nature, and trying to change it was like trying to change the tide.

So he let go of his savior complex. He adopted a simpler philosophy: if he encountered someone he could help, and helping wouldn’t cost him too dearly, he would help.

But he wouldn’t sacrifice himself on the altar of other people’s salvation. You could do that for a day, a week, maybe even a year.

But you couldn’t spend your entire life bleeding for a world that would never stop needing blood.

The Battle Angels had also done more than enough. They had saved the world. Now they deserved to rest.

And so did he.

—

The years passed.

The world continued to operate, completely ignoring what had happened in the past.

In fact, instead of condemning the Battle Angels for their actions, people began to speak of the massacre in hushed, reverent tones, as if it had been a necessary evil, a righteous act of justice carried out by the world’s greatest protectors.

The criminals themselves simply ignored it, convinced that such a thing would never happen again. They were safe. They were untouchable.

And life went on.

Until now.

—

The afternoon sun streamed through the massive windows of the penthouse, casting long shadows across the floors.

Anya sat on the edge of the bed, her glasses slipping down her nose as she stared at her phone with a thoughtful expression.

Then, suddenly, she smiled.

"I totally forgot. We’re actually right next to the place, aren’t we?"

She got up from the bed and walked over to the window wall, pressing her palm against the glass as she peered down at the city below.

"Yeah. We really are close."

Charlotte and Astrid joined her, following her gaze.

They were looking at the same park where, years ago, tens of thousands of people had met their end in the most horrific way imaginable.

But now, there was no sign of what had happened.

The blood had been washed away. The bones had been buried. The park had been rebuilt, replanted, reborn.

Families strolled along the paths. Children played on the grass. Old men sat on benches, feeding the pigeons.

It was as if nothing had ever happened.

Anya let out a low whistle.

"If you dig up the soil underneath, I bet it’s still red." She said, her voice matter-of-fact.

Astrid shot her a look of dismay.

"You don’t need to bring up such gruesome topics."

But Anya just shrugged, her expression curious.

"I’m serious, though. I wonder how they even cleaned this place up. There was so much blood everywhere—I saw videos and images before they were all taken down."

"It was like a scene from a horror movie. How do you even begin to clean something like that?"

Charlotte laughed.

"Apparently, they just had Auntie Nadia lift the entire park out of the ground and replace it with a new piece of land."

Astrid sighed, finally giving in to the conversation.

"They also hired every cleanup crew in Solaris City and the surrounding areas. It took an entire week, and the whole city stank of rotting flesh the entire time."

She shuddered.

"Imagine opening your window for some fresh air and getting a face full of corpse smell."

"That’s disgusting to even think about!"

Charlotte made a gagging sound.

"It’s also strange to think that such a beautiful place could hide such a dark history. But then again, that was true of so many things in this world."

The three sisters discussed the massacre with an ease that would have horrified an outsider.

But they didn’t see it that way. To them, what Mika had done was justified.

Charlotte had witnessed his suffering firsthand. Every scream, every wound, every moment of agony, she had been there.

Because of that she had lost sympathy for the rest of the world long ago. There was only Mika.

Anya had her own history with people who’ve tried to harm Mika.

Even Astrid, gentler than the other two, couldn’t bring herself to condemn what Mika had done.

She had held his hand while he slept. She had seen the nightmares that still visited him. If anything, she thought the punishment had been too merciful.

So the three of them joked about the cleanup effort without a trace of revulsion. Their revulsion was reserved for the people who had hurt Mika.

"Do you think it’ll happen again?" Charlotte asked quietly. "Another purge?"

The question hung in the air.

Finally, Astrid spoke, her voice heavy.

"I don’t know. But if it does, if it ever happens again at Mika’s hands—" She met Charlotte’s eyes. "It won’t just be the park that fills with bodies. It’ll be the entire city. Maybe more."

No one argued. They knew Astrid wasn’t exaggerating.

The Mika of back then had been powerful enough to orchestrate a massacre through the Battle Angels.

The Mika of now was something else entirely, creature who had surpassed even his mothers.

If he ever decided the world needed purging again, there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

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