After finishing his meal, Felix placed his phone beside the sandbox, letting the music continue to play. Then he quietly returned to his chair and resumed eating.
"I thank you for everything you've done for me," he murmured. "These three miracles… are my farewell."
Rumble!
Golden beams tore through the heavy clouds, splitting the sky as a majestic crimson rain poured down upon Babylon.
On the ground, countless people looked up in awe.
"The God of Wisdom has acknowledged the great deeds of the Three Witches!"
Tears streamed down their faces as the crowd erupted into hymns.
"This requiem is also a hymn of praise!"
Their voices rose and fell in perfect harmony with the heavenly music, spreading across the land. The sound reverberated through the air, brushing against their skin like the breath of history itself. Hair stood on end. Bodies trembled.
Within the haunting beauty of the melody, they felt the weight of their ancestors' struggles—mankind's defiance of fate, their battles against savage nature, ravenous beasts, and the inevitability of aging and decay.
They were drawn into a trance.
They saw visions—
The godlike Hero King Gilgamesh, Sword of Damocles raised high, roaring as he clashed with colossal beasts that shook the earth.
"The history of man's struggle against nature is a saga of passion and courage!"
"Let it be recorded, so future generations may know the valor of those who came before!"
The vision shifted.
Blood-soaked figures emerged—three witches standing unyielding amid fields of corpses. Crimson corruption from the Evil Eye crept across their bodies, yet their spines remained straight, their voices resolute.
"Death will not bend our backs, nor extinguish our will!"
In the streets of Babylon, nobles and merchants, artisans and elders—witches gripping wooden staves—all fell silent.
Then the sobbing began.
O mankind,
We have struggled our entire lives.
This is our era.
This song is our anthem—
A tribute to our defiance of fate.
"Great God of Wisdom… thank you. Thank you for honoring our Queens."
The elders remembered the distant past—when civilization was nothing more than a fragile spark in endless darkness. They fell to their knees, aged bodies shaking, tears flowing without restraint.
Before the great temple—
"I'm satisfied… truly satisfied," Medea whispered. "The crimson rain, the flower monument, this glorious hymn…"
She smiled, radiant as a blossom in full bloom, and looked at Cassandra. The two exchanged a quiet, contented glance. Hand in hand, they stood beneath the shadow of the Temple of Hermes. With a peaceful breath, they closed their eyes and opened their arms.
Their bodies gently fell backward.
Under the crimson rain.
Beneath the towering flower monument.
Within the requiem of fate that echoed between heaven and earth.
It was a moment of breathtaking beauty—etched forever into legend, preserved in murals of stone for all eternity.
"Our queens have fallen."
And then the world wailed.
All of Babylon—no, all of civilization—mourned. Two invincible witches, living legends, were gone. For more than two centuries, the Three Witches had stood as the shield of the western human tribes.
What the future would bring, no one knew.
Years later, The Spear of Witchcraft recorded the moment:
In the 198th year of Babylon, the Three Great Witches, nearing the end of their lives, prayed at the Temple of Hermes. The God of Wisdom answered. He sent down a fragrant crimson rain, a towering flower monument, and a heavenly requiem to guide their souls to rest.
Far away, in the Balchik Mountains—
Circe gazed up at the sky, her eyes reflecting the divine spectacle. A faint smile curved her lips.
"God himself came to send you off… what an honor," she murmured. "I'm stronger than you two, so I'll linger a little longer. But I haven't accepted death—not yet."
Though her strength surpassed Medea's and Cassandra's, Circe knew her time was limited.
She reclined upon her throne and looked down at the gathered witches—dark, ominous figures shrouded in dread.
"Listen carefully. My life will not end with death. When I pass, you will carry on my legacy. You will bring me back… centuries later. I will return."
Then she lay down within her coffin and closed her eyes.
Inside the shadowed palace, crimson murals covered the walls—grotesque depictions of Evil Eye demons, tentacles writhing in madness. Like a nightmare given form. Witches in black robes embroidered with red roses knelt in silence, scarlet staves resting against the stone.
"Our Queen will return. She will rule again—and achieve true eternal life."
…
Back in the courtyard, Felix quietly chewed his food as the music continued to play beside the sandbox. After a while, he reached out and turned off his phone.
He glanced at the massive flower monument.
"Might as well leave it there," he muttered. "Flowers are good for the environment."
His gaze shifted to the watering can filled with rose-scented water, and he frowned.
"Can't use that on the plants. Guess it's going down the toilet."
He sighed.
"I just started magic training yesterday… and today I'm already saying goodbye to my teachers. The ones who pioneered magic."
After cleaning up, he stopped by Ellie's place to return the lunchbox. Then he came back and stood quietly, staring into the sandbox.
"Now that the Three Witches are gone, there's no one left to dominate the world."
This was the perfect moment.
"With them alive, no upstart species could survive."
The Evil Eyes had been trapped and harvested endlessly, reduced to nothing more than fuel for rituals.
Now, with their tormentors gone, perhaps they could finally breathe freely.
Babylon's magic system followed a simple ladder: Apprentice, Level One Magician, Level Two, and so on. The Three Witches had reached Level Six—a realm of terrifying power. What lay beyond? No one knew. They had died before breaking through.
Lilith, the new ruler, was only a Level Four Magician—yet she was the strongest left.
"No helping it," Felix muttered. "Those three were absurdly talented. They carved out an entire path with nothing but strength and wit."
His eyes gleamed.
"Now it's time to add new species. Real competition."
This NEET—who wasn't even an Apprentice Magician yet—leaned closer to the sandbox.
"The second beta test of Land of Genesis should've started early this morning. Let's hope some of you came up with usable new species I can steal and drop in—while there's still no ruler to stop them."
The Sumerian and Babylonian eras had mostly been about survival. Tribes versus nature. Primitive struggles.
Repetitive, honestly.
But now, with magic spreading and witches rising, they were about to clear that stage.
Tyrannosaurus-level beasts? No longer a threat.
"It's time to shake things up," Felix said softly. "Let's kick this world into hard mode."
His vision was clear.
In this new era, he would remain behind the scenes—the unseen hand guiding evolution. A world of magic would unfold, filled with supernatural creatures drawn from myth: monsters, demons, divine beasts. The Evil Eye would no longer stand alone.
A world of mystery.
Of death.
Of the pursuit of ultimate truth.
"Just thinking about it gets me fired up."
Felix didn't have much time left—not with cancer eating away at him. He had to make this magic civilization as perfect as possible.
And maybe… just maybe… find a cure along the way.
"I'm counting on you, second beta testers," he murmured.
"Help me decide the future of this world."
....
Author's Note
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