The seventh day arrived.
By dawn, borders shifted quietly as convoys rolled out and flags were lowered without ceremony. Most nations complied, signing documents, pulling troops back, and evacuating civilians. No celebration followed, only a tense stillness as the land that had been taken was finally returned.
Some governments begged for help instead of compliance. They called the Justice League, the Society, anyone with a symbol and a cape, hoping heroes would stand between them and consequence. None answered the call. Those same heroes remembered the mass graves, the chains, the silence that followed every report of slavery and executions. Rules and politics had been the excuse back then, so neutrality became the answer now.
Stepping in would have meant choosing governments over people. Doing so would have meant defending theft simply because it was old and legal on paper. No hero wanted that stain, and none were willing to call John a tyrant for fixing what they ignored. Silence, for once, was honesty.
The borders shifted quietly.
Until a few idiots decided quiet was weakness.
Three military coalitions ignored the withdrawal deadline.
One fleet crossed the border before noon.
It lasted less than three minutes.
Harley met them alone.
Radar operators saw something red hit the lead aircraft carrier at hypersonic speed. Cameras caught a laughing blur bouncing from ship to ship. Decks split apart. Turrets were ripped free and thrown like toys. Missiles detonated harmlessly against an invisible force as she cartwheeled through explosions, cackling loud enough for open mics to pick it up.
Harley stopped to wave.
That's when she got locked by missiles.
The next few seconds looked less like a fight and more like vandalism.
She zigzagged through tracer fire, slapped missiles aside, rode the shockwave of one explosion into another squadron, and smashed cockpits open. Jets spiraled down burning. Drones disintegrated under backhanded swings. Radar screens went black across three ships.
Her laughter never stopped.
"Rule number one, sweethearts. If you poke my kingdom, I poke back."
She tore a destroyer in half by grabbing it at the keel and pulling until metal screamed. She used a battleship as a bat and smashed the rest of the fleet into the sea. Pilots who ejected were plucked out of the air and dropped gently into lifeboats, shaken but alive.
Harley hovered above the wreckage, hands on her hips, hair floating in the smoke.
"Next time," she shouted cheerfully, "try diplomacy, sweethearts."
The footage went viral in seconds.
Another nation launched drones from inland bases.
They never reached Khandaq.
Harley intercepted them laughing, skipping from one to the next, crushing them midair like paper toys while humming to herself. When it was over, she posed for a camera she knew was watching and blew a kiss.
No one tried a third time.
By the time the smoke cleared, nothing remained of the attack force except twisted metal and fear. Harley flew back toward the city.
By evening, the last disputed document was signed.
Borders were restored.
Land returned.
Khandaq stood whole again.
John watched from the balcony overlooking the capital as the sun dipped low. Construction crews worked below, not rebuilding ruins but expanding cities that no longer feared collapse. Fields glowed green beyond the skyline. Rivers reflected gold and orange light.
Harley dropped beside him, boots dangling over the edge.
"Gotta say," she said, licking her thumb and wiping a smudge off her mallet, "best eviction day ever."
Maureen joined them quietly. Her eyes tracked the horizon where borders used to be lines of blood and wire.
"Can't cure stupidity," she said.
"So, what now?" Harley asked as she flew upside down and looked at John.
"Now," John thought for a moment before saying, "...Now we'll raise a magic barrier around Khandaq to prevent those pests. After that, we will establish a group of Heroes, then look over the construction and cover the new lands... Then, create a new Council of Wizards. But before all that, I'm taking Maureen out on a date."
Maureen simply blushed.
Harley pointed at her face, "Me? Double date?"
The temperature fell to freezing point for a few seconds as Maureen gave Harley a sinister smile.
"Uumm! I think I'm gonna let ya two alone. I can always go another time. You two enjoy your time together, yeah?" Harley quickly flew away as she felt a chilling sensation down her spine. 'Dang! Bluebell got some nasty chills.'
...
[Next Evening] [Location: John's Island]
The sea was calm that evening, a wide mirror reflecting the fading orange sky as John guided Maureen toward the unmarked island, which he obviously claimed as his own. Waves whispered softly against pale sand, and the air carried the clean scent of salt and warmth.
The island revealed itself slowly as they landed.
Lantern lights glowed between palm trees, casting soft halos over the beach. Candles glowed on a low wooden table near a crackling campfire, and just beyond it stood a large tent, its fabric gently shifting in the breeze. A grill waited nearby, already prepped, with Maureen's favorite barbecue meat resting neatly beside bottles of wine cooling in the sand.
Maureen stopped walking. Her breath caught before she could hide it, and her hand tightened around John's for just a moment longer than necessary. "You did all this?" she asked quietly, eyes moving from the lights to the fire, then to him.
John shrugged, though the smile he tried to suppress gave him away. "I figured saving a nation deserved at least one normal night." He gestured toward the table. "Also, you deserve something that doesn't involve demons or lightning."
She laughed softly, the sound lighter than it had been in weeks. Sand crunched under her boots as she stepped closer to the fire, letting the warmth wash over her. "This is… really thoughtful," she said, then glanced back at him. "You didn't have to go this far."
He met her gaze, serious now. "I wanted to."
The fire popped, sending sparks upward into the darkening sky.
Both of them transformed back to their regular form.
John moved to the grill, rolling up his sleeves while Maureen settled onto a blanket nearby. He started seasoning the meat, adjusting the heat, stealing glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking. Wine was poured, glasses clinked once, and the world stayed quiet enough to let the moment breathe.
Maureen watched him for a while before speaking again. "You know," she said, swirling the wine slowly, "most people with your power would be building statues of themselves by now."
John snorted. "Yeah, well. Statues don't laugh at my bad jokes or threaten to freeze Harley when she tries to jump into dates."
She raised an eyebrow. "I absolutely would freeze her because starting this point, there will be certain times when I'm going to take you all for myself."
"I'm counting on it."
Dinner passed slowly. They talked about small things at first, such as wine preferences and places they had never seen, as well as ridiculous hypotheticals that made Maureen laugh harder than she expected. Gradually, heavier thoughts crept in between bites: responsibility, fear and the weight of being needed by millions.
"I'm not scared of fighting," Maureen admitted at last, staring into the fire. "I'm scared of what happens when people stop seeing us as human."
John set his plate aside. Silence stretched, but it was comfortable, not empty. "Then we remind each other," he said. "As long as we don't forget who we are when the lights are off, the rest doesn't matter."
She looked at him then, really looked at him, and nodded once.
Later, when the fire burned lower and the wine bottles stood empty, they moved closer without saying a word. The tent loomed nearby, softly lit from within, looking very inviting. John brushed a strand of hair from Maureen's face, his touch gentle, almost hesitant.
"This island," she said quietly, "what did you mean when you said it's yours?"
A faint smile crossed his lips. "Well, it's not on the map, so I took it and wrapped the entire place with magic. Think of it as somewhere we can exist without the world breathing down our necks. Oh, and I'm thinking of building a cozy house right up the higher ground."
Her fingers laced with his. "I like that."
They walked together along the beach. John's arm was around Maureen's waist as she leaned closer with her arm around him. They simply walked... enjoying the silence and each other's company and lost in time.
Then at the edge, they stopped.
Marueen wrapped her arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. She whispered, "Kiss me."
---[Massive spoilers. Upcoming ch names. Click & read][1]
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[1] Ch: 58 [First time with Maureen] Ch: 59 [Hypnota’s Crown] Ch: 60 [Divine MILF and Political Marriages] Ch: 61 [Queens, Kings, and Calculated Risks] Ch: 62 [War Councils and Breakfast Tables] Ch: 63 [God of War: Rising] Ch: 64 [Champion vs God of War]