After Ethan had finished orchestrating the final farewell, he quietly returned to his chair, leaving his phone beside the sandbox. River Flows in You continued to play, drifting across the miniature world like a ghostly wind.
"Thank you," he whispered to the still air. "For everything you've done. These three miracles… are my way of saying goodbye."
Rumble.
Golden shafts of light broke through the thick, leaden clouds, descending with the majestic crimson rain. The world of Babylon was bathed in divine radiance.
People looked skyward, their voices catching in their throats.
"The God of Wisdom has honored our Queens!"
They wept as they raised their hands in praise. The streets echoed with hymns.
"This requiem… is also a song of triumph."
The music resonated across the world—its notes filled with sorrow, glory, and reverence. It stirred something ancient in their blood. As they listened, they felt the memories of struggle rise up:
The howling beasts that once stalked them.
The fury of the wild.
The pain of mortality.
And in that music, they saw again the towering figure of Gilgamesh, defiant against nature, blade raised to the heavens:
"The history of mankind… is a chronicle of defiance!"
"Record it! Let the world remember the courage of our ancestors!"
Then, the vision blurred—replaced by the three witches.
Their silhouettes stood against a sea of fallen beasts, drenched in blood and triumph. They too had once declared:
"We will not kneel before death. Our backs will never bend."
In every corner of Babylon—among merchants, scribes, artisans, nobles, and witches clutching staves—tears fell silently. No one spoke. Their grief was shared, a single breath held in unity.
O humanity…
We have fought. We have endured.
This… is our era.
And this hymn—our anthem.
---
"I'm satisfied. Truly," Medea whispered, her smile as radiant as the crimson rain.
She glanced at Cassandra, who nodded in return. The two women clasped hands before the towering statue of Hermes.
They closed their eyes, arms open, and slowly let themselves fall—
Under the falling rain.
Beneath the great flower of heaven.
Amidst the symphony of fate.
It was a scene of incomparable beauty. It became legend.
Etched in murals.
Carved in stone.
Immortalized in memory.
"The Queens have fallen."
And then, a cry rose from the earth—
A howl of grief so powerful it shook the air.
The Kingdom of Babylon had lost two of its pillars. They had ruled for over two hundred years, shielding the western tribes of mankind. The future now lay shrouded in uncertainty.
In the decades that followed, The Spear of Witchcraft would record the event:
> In the 198th year of Babylon, the Three Great Witches, nearing their end, knelt before the Temple of Hermes. The God of Wisdom answered their call. He sent down rain of flowers, a sacred monument, and a hymn from heaven to usher them into the beyond.
---
Deep in the Balchik Mountains.
Circe stood silently on the balcony of her obsidian palace, watching the miracles fall from the sky.
"So… God has come for you."
Her voice was soft, and for once, not bitter.
"What a glorious end, sisters. I will follow soon—but not yet."
Though she had surpassed the other two in power, her time too was waning.
She turned to the dark witches kneeling before her, their robes inked in crimson roses.
"Listen well. My death will not be the end. When the time is right, you will bring me back. I will rise again, reborn."
She stepped into her sarcophagus, its lid etched with infernal runes, and lay down.
Around her, the walls were covered in murals of tentacled demons and blasphemous rites. It was hellish, but it was hers.
The witches lowered their heads in unison.
"Our Queen shall return. Eternal and unbroken."
---
Back in the courtyard, Ethan sat beneath the morning sun, chewing on a carrot.
The music had long since faded. He reached over and shut off his phone.
"The flower monument can stay," he mused. "Eco-friendly. Not a problem."
But the leftover rose-scented water in the can? That had to go.
He emptied it down the toilet with a sigh.
"I just started my magic training yesterday… and today, I've already had to say goodbye to the witches who created the very foundation."
After cleaning up and returning Chen Xi's lunchbox, Ethan walked back to the sandbox, his expression unreadable.
---
"Now that the Three Witches are gone… the world finally has room to breathe again."
With no one left to hold absolute power, a new age could begin. He would begin introducing new supernatural species into the sandbox.
Under the witches' rule, the Evil Eyes had been little more than biological fuel—chained, harvested, slaughtered.
They were never allowed to evolve. Never allowed to live.
"That changes now."
With the witches gone, even the mighty Level Six Magicians were no more. Their successors—led by the young Lilith—were at best Level Four. The power vacuum was real.
It was time.
"The sandbox is ready for chaos," Ethan muttered, eyes glinting with ambition.
---
The second closed beta had begun.
Dozens of new players had entered the game, working tirelessly to evolve the next great species.
"Now's the time to sneak their creations into Babylon."
The Sumerian and Babylonian eras had been about brute survival. Nature versus mankind. That cycle had grown stale.
Now, it was time to escalate.
To rewrite the very fabric of this world.
The beasts were no longer enough.
"It's time for monsters. Magic. Mystery. Death."
He would weave in the terrors of myth—dragons, banshees, chimeras, abyssal horrors born from forgotten pantheons.
The sandbox would become a true world of magic. And with it, he would build the foundations of a real, working supernatural system.
One that might, just might… help him cheat death.
Ethan grinned.
"I'm counting on you, second beta testers. Let's make history."