All the disputes on the planet came to an end at noon that day.
After Lucia left, the stench of blood from the tens of thousands of people made many in the Holy City vomit in disgust. Some people then began voluntarily clearing away the corpses.
Looking at the former great figures lying there, people suddenly felt something they could not put into words.
The struggle for power and profit, fame and fortune—in the end, it all amounted to this.
Dealing with tens of thousands of corpses was still quite troublesome. Even with the help of robots, burning, processing, and burying them all took time.
No one knew what else she intended to do, but Lucia told them that the archangel Aurora would descend here at noon the next day.
A day's wait was a long one, especially after people discovered that the ruling class had changed once again. Amid their unease, every second passed with agonizing slowness.
Some vested-interest groups did not know whether they would be purged, while some members of the Rebellion Army did not know whom they were actually rebelling against now.
Even ordinary people did not know whether they should continue doing what they had done before.
Lucia said nothing. She merely prayed in silence, savoring a rebirth that, in a certain sense, belonged to her alone. At noon the next day, the ground had already been cleared, but dark-red stains 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 holy hymns suddenly drifted through the sky above the entire square.
Feathers condensed from the void and floated down one after another, landing on the ground, in people's palms, and on their bodies.