YAZE22

Every thousand years, the gods descend to Earth for the Ascension Royale, a high-stakes competition broadcasted across the heavens. The rules are simple: each god is randomly assigned a human host. For one year, they must keep their mortal alive as monsters ravage the world. The last god standing wins divine glory—but for Luis Mendoza, a broke college accounting student, his assigned deity is Zyx, the God of Misfortune, a cosmic joke even among the divine.

Now, with monsters emerging worldwide and rival hosts hunting each other for power, Luis must survive a year of chaos—despite his own god’s unlucky influence.

THE GOD OF MISFORTUNE

The armored transport rumbled through the ravaged roads, 30 kilometers south of the village that had become the talk of every GFH frequency. Inside, the mood was heavy. Aya sat quietly, her fingers tightening unconsciously around the hilt of her katana.

They'd made it back to GFH Forward Command – Fort Sagisag, a battle-worn facility nestled between crumbled expressways and shattered skyline. Holographic fences buzzed with divine energy, and drones zipped through the air like hornets.

Aya stood in the debrief chamber before a raised dais. Tactical displays flickered above, showing recent monster sightings, guild movements, and unregistered Host clusters.

Gabriel Arganat, the Unit Leader, paced slowly behind the curved command table. He was a presence forged from silence and inevitability—every movement deliberate. The Spirit Walker class Host wore dark combat robes etched with bone-white glyphs. The air around him shimmered faintly with ghostly motes. His Patron God, Anubis, Lord of the Western Dead, was never seen, only felt—a cold weight behind the eyes.

Aya stepped forward. "We encountered and eliminated a Level 12 Rampaging Agmorant. Significant casualties avoided due to unexpected support."

"Support?" Gabriel's tone didn't shift.

Aya nodded. "A group of unregistered Hosts—eleven total. They emerged from the forest mid-battle. Assisted us. No guild insignias. Tactical coordination suggests prior experience."

Elian Corvus, Deadeye Lancer, crossed his arms. His eyes, enhanced by Gorrath's divine precision, glinted with suspicion. "They claimed neutrality. I call bullshit."

He tapped his knuckle on the table. "That Rico guy? He moved like ex-special ops. The others followed his lead like a squad. They had gear, coordination, fallback signals. That's not some peaceful mountain commune. That's a sleeper cell."

"They treated the wounded," Aya shot back. "They could've let us die."

"They didn't kill us this time," Elian growled. "Doesn't mean they won't."

Mira, still bandaged from the last engagement, stepped forward. "I saw them up close. They fought to save lives. One even gave me his last potion. That's not guild behavior. That's human behavior."

Gabriel raised a hand. Silence fell.

He turned to the wall, activating a display—lines of GFH doctrine filled the air.

"Protocol Twelve," he read aloud. "Unregistered Hosts are to be detained, monitored, or eliminated depending on assessed risk."

His voice didn't rise, but its weight grew heavier. "Neutrality is a shield used by cowards. Today they fight monsters. Tomorrow, they take territory. One day, they will turn their weapons on us. All it takes is one order. One bribe. One god's whisper."

Aya didn't flinch. "I knew one of them—Luis Mendoza. He's not like the others. He's not a threat."

Gabriel's eyes narrowed. "Then let's see them. With our own eyes. No assumptions. No sympathy."

He stepped forward, stopping just in front of Aya. "We move at dawn. No heavy armor. Observation only."

"But if they're hostile…" Elian said.

Gabriel didn't look back. "Then Protocol Twelve will be fulfilled."

Aya swallowed. Mira shifted uncomfortably.

(CH22)CODE AND CONSEQUENCES