The armored transport growled across the ruined highways, 30 kilometers south of the village that now lit up every GFH frequency like a flare. Inside, the mood was heavy—thick with the weight of what had been seen, and what might come next.
Aya sat still, her knuckles white on the hilt of her katana. She barely noticed the rattle of the wheels or the flicker of warning lights overhead. Her mind was still in the forest, with the roar of the Agmorant and the strangers who had stood beside them.
They arrived at Fort Sagisag—a rusted relic of war rebuilt with divine grit. The broken skyline loomed in the distance, jagged and forgotten. Holographic fences pulsed with a steady hum of celestial energy. Drones circled overhead like restless spirits, scanning every shadow.
Inside the debrief chamber, Aya stood before a raised dais. Tactical displays shimmered with recent monster sightings, unregistered Host signatures, and shifting guild movements.
[HOST: Gabriel Arganat][CLASS: SPIRIT WALKER][GOD: ANUBIS][LEVEL: 6]
Gabriel Arganat was already there—tall, composed, a man carved from silence. His combat robes bore pale glyphs that whispered death. The air around him shimmered with ghost-light, cold and ancient. His god, Anubis, never spoke. He didn't need to. He was felt.
Gabriel's voice broke the stillness."Begin."
Aya took one measured step forward. "We engaged and eliminated a Level 12 Rampaging Agmorant. Minimal losses. Survival owed to unexpected assistance."
His gaze didn't waver. "Assistance?"
She nodded. "Unregistered Hosts. Eleven. No guild marks. No insignias. But they moved like veterans. Coordinated. Disciplined."
A low grunt answered her.
[HOST: Elian Corvus][CLASS: DEADEYE LANCER][GOD: GORRATH][LEVEL: 3]
Elian leaned forward, arms crossed. His eyes—sharp from Gorrath's divine marksmanship—glinted with distrust."They say they're neutral. I don't buy it."
He rapped a knuckle on the table. "That guy—Rico—moved like ex-military. The rest followed like a trained unit. That's not a farming village. That's a sleeper cell."
"They treated our wounded," Aya replied, calm but firm. "They could've walked away. They didn't."
Elian's lips curled. "They didn't kill us this time."
Mira stepped forward then, still stiff with bandages and fatigue. Her voice was softer—but it carried."They didn't act like soldiers. One gave me his last potion. No threats. No demands. They weren't there for territory. They just… helped."
Gabriel raised a hand. The room fell into quiet.
With a motion, he summoned a glowing document into the air—GFH doctrine etched in divine law. His voice was steady. Final.
"Protocol Twelve:Unregistered Hosts are to be detained, monitored, or eliminated depending on assessed risk."
He continued, not looking at anyone in particular. "Neutrality is a myth. It's armor for the indecisive. Today they fight monsters. Tomorrow they claim land. All it takes is one whisper from a god."
Aya didn't look away. "Luis Mendoza is one of them. I knew him before. He's not a threat."
Gabriel turned. The shadows in his eyes were unreadable. "Then we'll see for ourselves."
He stepped down from the dais, slow and purposeful. "No armor. No aggression. Observation only."
"But if they're hostile…" Elian asked, his tone hopeful.
Gabriel didn't pause. "Then Protocol Twelve will be enforced."
Aya stood still. Mira shifted uncomfortably.
Elian simply smiled.