SSS-Class MILFs And Their Yandere Daughters, I Want Them All!

Chapter 647: Shields, Not Swords

The sun rose over Solaris City like a wound slowly opening, crimson light bleeding into orange, then into a sickly, hesitant gold.

It touched the towers first, then crept downward, reaching toward the square below as though reluctant to illuminate what lay there.

But when the light finally struck the park, even the sun seemed to recoil.

This was because the beloved park where families walked in the mornings and old veterans paid their respects to fallen heroes had been erased.

In its place sprawled a landscape of absolute butchery.

A mountain of flesh, bone, and viscera rose steaming in the cold morning air.

Blood had pooled in every depression, forming crimson lakes that reflected the dawn like broken mirrors.

Guts draped across the few remaining statues like grotesque garlands.

A single arm, severed at the elbow, hung from a monument’s outstretched bronze hand.

Tens of thousands of lives. Enough people to fill a stadium had been reduced to this!

The slaughter had been so complete, so methodical, that the square no longer resembled anything human.

It looked like the aftermath of a war fought by gods!

And floating above that mountain of the dead, suspended in the blood-tinged dawn, were the Battle Angels.

They were unrecognizable.

Yelena’s red hair was matted black with gore.

Fauna’s clothes, once pristine white now hung heavy and dripping, dyed a deep, glistening crimson.

Nadia’s stoic face was a mask of red, her eyes staring out from it like two hollow points.

The Maiden of War looked as though she had bathed in the slaughter; not an inch of her skin was visible beneath the layers of blood and tissue.

And the Maiden of Fate floated with her head bowed, her purple hair plastered to her cheeks with things she would never be able to wash away.

They did not look like protectors.

They looked like demons that had crawled from the depths of hell to remind the world what true terror looked like.

—

The crowd was also gone.

Most had fled hours ago, scattering into the streets like frightened birds, their screams still echoing through the empty avenues.

Only a handful remained, the bravest, or the most foolish, or simply those too broken by what they had witnessed to move.

A few guards still stood at the perimeter. But they had stopped trying to maintain order long ago.

There was no order left to maintain.

The reporter whose camera still broadcast to billions stood frozen, his mouth slightly open.

He had been speaking earlier—narrating, analyzing, trying to impose meaning onto the incomprehensible.

Now he simply stared. Words had failed him.

Behind every screen in every world, the silence held. No one spoke. No one moved.

They simply watched the five crimson figures floating in the dawn, and they understood, perhaps for the first time in their lives, what it truly meant to be powerless.

Then the silence was broken.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

The applause came from behind the Battle Angels—slow, deliberate, almost mocking. They turned, their movements stiff and mechanical, to see Mika floating toward them through the blood-tinged air.

He was drenched. Every inch of him—his clothes, his skin, his hair was slick with gore.

But unlike the Battle Angels, whose faces were masks of horror and exhaustion, Mika’s expression was one of pure, serene satisfaction.

“Good job.” He said, his voice carrying easily through the still morning air. “Really. All of you. I honestly didn’t think you’d finish by sunrise, but you pulled through magnificently.”

Yelena’s mouth moved. “Mika…you…”

He chuckled, drifting closer. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. Did you think I was just standing around while you did all the work?”

He wiped a smear of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, examining it with casual interest.

“I’ve been busy too. I couldn’t let you have all the fun, could I? Especially not with certain people.”

His eyes flickered. “People I had very particular grudges against.”

He thought of the fat man—the one who had wanted to do such disgusting things to him.

Mika had dragged him away from the crowd, had taken his time pulling out every single organ one by one. It had taken hours, given how much excess flesh there was to work through.

But that had only made it better—the man had screamed and shrieked and begged the entire time, and Mika had laughed and laughed and laughed.

There were others too. All the ones who had personally participated in his torture, who had laughed at his pain, who had treated him like nothing more than a plaything.

They had all learned exactly what it felt like to be on the receiving end of overwhelming agony.

“I gave back everything I received.” Mika said, his voice satisfied. “Every moment of pain. Every second of suffering. It all came back to them, multiplied a thousandfold.”

He smiled and said in conclusion,

“But now it’s done. Everything is over. You can go home and take a shower.”

He paused.

His smile faded.

“Or atleast that’s what I want to say as it seems…”

He turned, looking down at the square below.

“…the job isn’t quite finished yet.”

—

The mountain of meat dominated the center of the square—that was what everyone saw first. But around it, partially hidden by the carnage, were figures moving and trembling in their binds.

Children.

Thousands of them.

Tens of thousands, perhaps, small bodies huddled together, their faces streaked with tears, their eyes wide with terror.

They had witnessed horrors that no child should ever see, and now they sat in the blood-soaked square, waiting for whatever terrible fate awaited them next.

The Battle Angels had fought to protect them.

Even under the Eternal Queen’s control and their bodies puppeted by forces beyond their comprehension, they had managed to resist.

They had focused their attacks on the criminals and the complicit and had left the children untouched. Not a single child had been harmed throughout the entire night.

It was the one line they had refused to cross.

The one promise they had kept.

But Mika didn’t seem satisfied.

He looked down at the children with an expression of cold assessment, as if calculating their worth.

“I understand.” He said, his voice calm and understanding. “I truly do. Every one of you is so empathetic, so compassionate, especially since you all have children of your own.”

The mothers’ eyes filled with tears.

But Mika shook his head slowly.

“But empathy like that is useless. If you spare these children, people will get the wrong idea. They’ll think the Battle Angels aren’t as scary as they seem. They’ll think this was a one-time fluke—an aberration that won’t happen again. And then they won’t fear you the way they should.”

His purple eyes gleamed.

“You need to finish the job. Every single one of them.”

“No, Mika! No!” Yelena cried out desperately, her voice cracking as fresh tears poured down her blood-splattered face. “We can’t! We can never harm children! We won’t do it!”

“Mika, please!” Fauna’s voice cracked. “Please! You don’t have to do this! I know you. You’re a good boy. Remember when you were little—remember the ladybug? You accidentally swatted it and you cried for two whole days.”

“You felt so guilty. You couldn’t even look at your own hands without tearing up.” She reached toward him, her bloody fingers trembling. “That’s who you are, Mika. That’s who you’ve always been. A kind soul. A gentle soul. Please—don’t do this!”

“Fauna is right, Mika.”

Nadia added, her usually expressionless face twisting into grimace.

“These children had nothing to do with Marcus’s domain. Just look at them—they’re small, fragile souls. They’ve already suffered more than enough just watching their families die. If you wanted to punish them, you’ve already given them a lifetime of horror.”

“So please, Mika…give this up.”

“Aye.” The Maiden of War’s voice was rough, but her eyes were wet. “I’ve seen children die in war. Too many. More than I can count. And I swore, that I would never be the cause of it. Not for any reason. Not under any order.”

She straightened her spine, meeting Mika’s gaze without flinching.

“I won’t break that oath. Not even for you, Mika.”

And finally, the Maiden of Fate lifted those hollow, haunted eyes and looked directly at her son.

“Please, Mika.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Stop. I understand your rage. I understand your vengeance. No—”

She caught herself, shaking her head.

“That’s a lie. I don’t understand. I can’t. I don’t know what you suffered in that place. I don’t know the pain you endured.”

“I’m just a failure of a mother who couldn’t save her son even with all the power in the world.”

Her eyes were filled with self-loathing, her entire body shaking with the weight of her guilt.

“But please. The ones who hurt you are dead. You’ve had your revenge. And I’m fine with that—I’m fine with being your tool, your weapon, whatever you need me to be. I deserve it for not saving you.”

“But the children, Mika…The children are innocent. So please. I’m begging you. No more.”

All five of them floated there, side by side, a living shield between Mika and the thousands of young lives below.

“Please, Mika—stop this!”

“My baby boy, darling, please—this isn’t you!”

“Don’t do this, little brother—please!”

“Think about who you are—who you’ve always been!”

“Come back to us, Mika. Come back to the light!”

Normally, such heartfelt pleas would have reached anyone.

The love of five mothers, the desperate hope in their eyes, it should have been enough to break through even the darkest of curses.

But Mika’s mind was shattered.

All those times he had told Charlotte he was fine, they had all been lies.

Every time they had ripped his flesh, broken his bones and violated his body in ways too horrible to describe had cracked his mind a little further, until finally, it had fractured completely.

So none of their words reached him.

Instead, he simply smiled a cold, terrible smile.

“I’m sorry.” Mika said smoothly, his tone terrifyingly polite. “You can hate me, scold me, beat me up, or do whatever you want to me in the future. But right now…I don’t think you have a choice.”

His eyes gleamed with absolute malice.

“If I say those children are going to die…they are going to die.”

Mika snapped his fingers.

Instantly, the dark, binding shards within the Battle Angels flared to life.

An overwhelming, irresistible command surged through their bodies, forcibly hijacking their muscles, turning their arms toward the weeping children below.

“KILL THEM.” His command echoed in their minds. “SLAUGHTER EVERY LAST ONE.”

But to Mika’s genuine surprise, the Battle Angels resisted.

“No!” Yelena gritted out, her body trembling, her teeth clenched so hard they might shatter. “We won’t do it! We won’t hurt them! Stop this, Mika—please, stop!”

The others joined her, their bodies straining against the invisible chains that bound them.

Sweat poured down their faces. Their bones creaked under the pressure.

But still, they stood their ground.

Mika frowned.

“You’re only making this harder on yourselves.” He said, increasing the pressure. The pink light flared brighter, pressing down on them with crushing force. “Just give in. It’s futile to resist.”

But they didn’t give in.

They stood between Mika and the children like a living shield until—

—finally the Maiden of War chuckled forcefully, her voice defiant despite the immense pressure bearing down on her.

“You dumb bitch!”

She shouted, and they all knew she wasn’t talking to Mika anymore.

“Do you really think you can control us for the rest of our lives?!”

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