All the disputes on the planet came to an end at noon that day.
After Lucia left, the stench of blood from tens of thousands of people made many in the Holy City vomit in disgust. Some people then began taking the initiative to clean up the corpses.
Looking at the former great figures lying there, people suddenly felt something indescribable.
Fighting for power and profit, fame and fortune—in the end, it amounted to nothing more than this.
Processing tens of thousands of corpses was still troublesome. Even with the help of robots, burning, handling, and burying them all took time.
People did not know what else she intended to do, but Lucia told them that the archangel Aurora would descend here at noon the next day.
A day of waiting was long, especially after people realized that the ruling class had changed again. Amid their unease, every second passed with agonizing slowness.
Some privileged groups did not know whether they would be purged, while some members of the Rebellion Army did not know whose rule they were rebelling against now.
Even ordinary people did not know whether they should continue doing what they had done before.
Lucia said nothing. She simply prayed in silence, experiencing a rebirth that, in some sense, belonged to her alone! At noon the next day, the ground had already been cleaned, but dark red marks that could not be scrubbed away still remained. More people came here, wanting to see whether a great archangel would truly descend from the heavens.
When the time reached noon, ethereal sacred hymns suddenly drifted across the entire space above the square.
Feathers condensed from the void and fluttered down, landing on the ground, in people's palms, and on their bodies. The warmth they carried could not be faked.