THE GOD OF MISFORTUNE
Chapter 3: (CH2)THE INVISIBLE PATRONS

Chapter 3: (CH2)THE INVISIBLE PATRONS

The Voidfang hadn’t even finished dissolving when Luis saw... someone.

He wasn’t sure how he noticed at first—just a shimmer in the corner of his eye, like heat off asphalt. Some guy leaning against the alley wall, relaxed, like he had front-row tickets to a show no one else could see. But when Luis turned his head?

The man was suddenly right in front of him, grinning like a gambler who already knew he was losing, but bet the house anyway.

"Surprise!" Zyx chirped, flicking Luis square on the forehead. "I’m your divine plus-one!"

Luis staggered back a step. "You—wait. Other people can’t see you?"

Zyx rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t fall out. "Obviously not. You think normies get backstage passes to the apocalypse?"

Luis started to reply, but across the street, a woman in a half-shredded business suit was yelling at—nothing.

"Who are you?! Stop—stop laughing at me!" she screamed. Her voice cracked—then her hands caught fire.

Real fire.

[HOST IDENTIFIED: PYROKINETIC CLASS][PATRON GOD: IGNIS, LORD OF WILDFIRES]

Nearby, a teenage boy stood frozen in place, gripping his head with both hands, muttering in a whisper-shout. "No, I don’t want to drown them—I just—oh god, make it stop—"

Water began swirling around his feet. Not rain. Not runoff. Actual spiraling water, forming rings on dry pavement.

[HOST IDENTIFIED: HYDROKINETIC CLASS][PATRON GOD: NYREA, WHISPERER OF DROWNING DEPTHS]

Luis’s chest rose and fell too fast. "Every Host has... their own god?"

"Bingo," Zyx said, casually plucking a glowing notification out of thin air. It hovered like a stat screen only Luis could see:

[GLOBAL HOST POPULATION: 997,441][ELIMINATIONS: 2,559]

"One million minus the meat," Zyx said, chipper as ever. "Each surviving Host gets a little divine parasite whispering in their brain. Some are useful. Most just make things worse."

A delivery van came screaming around the corner—literally screeching tires—then lifted off the ground. Like, floated. It hovered ten feet in the air, the driver inside losing his absolute mind.

Behind him, only faintly visible in the van’s reflection, was a being with too many arms and an ever-shifting face, like looking through warped glass.

[HOST IDENTIFIED: TELEKINETIC CLASS][PATRON GOD: VORTAN, THE GRAVITY MOCKER]

The van crumpled. Like someone crushed it with an invisible fist. Blood burst out the seams like the world’s worst juice box.

[HOST ELIMINATED: 2,560]

Zyx clicked his tongue. "Vortan’s always too eager. His Hosts barely make it past Day 2."

Luis turned to run—on pure instinct—and smacked right into someone.

A girl. Crying. Maybe fifteen, maybe twenty. Eyes completely white. Nails digging into her scalp as she whispered, "Please... I don’t want to see it anymore. Please, make the visions stop..."

Behind her, barely there, a ghostly woman in a blindfold traced symbols on her back—runes that shimmered in midair like ink floating in water.

[HOST IDENTIFIED: PRECOGNITIVE CLASS][PATRON GOD: THE THREE-EYED WHISPER]

The girl’s eyes snapped to Luis. "You!" she gasped. "Your god is different! He’s—"

A gunshot. Fast, sharp, clean. The top of her skull vanished.

[HOST ELIMINATED: 2,561]

Luis dropped to his knees, bile burning up his throat. On the rooftop across the street, a man calmly reloaded a sniper rifle. His stance? Military. Unshakable. Eyes glowing faint gold. And just behind him—barely visible—was a shadow of a knight. Towering. Silent. One gloved hand lifted in a mock salute.

[HOST IDENTIFIED: WHI TACTICAL OPERATIVE][PATRON GOD: KRATHOS, THE SILENT GENERAL]

Zyx yanked Luis down behind a dumpster, ducking out of sight. "That one? Bad news. Krathos only picks elite soldiers. And they always—always—make the top 100."

Up above, the global counter ticked again.

[997,440...]