I Am The God Of Games Novels & Stories

"Good evening ladies and gentle men, gods and goddess." The oracle of life suddenly faded into existence at the alter, slowly shaping in self into a white feminine figure. "We are all gathered here today to celebrate a remarkable upcoming, the upcoming of a new being into the immortal realm. Many of you know that by now, that this being belongs to one of our deities, Aubrey." The oracle smoothly motions her hand, as though moving gracefully in water as she points towards Aubrey who stood up and placed his wine glass down to the table.

"He's the old god. I'm going to be the new one." The Orangelo couldn't keep his sigh internal. He wasn't sure when he'd fully accepted that he was going to go through with this war and become the new god of Chaos, but it had happened. He was going to beat Tricksy, and his little bitch Agent, get Lexi back again and then become a god. Somehow the young tom who couldn't shoulder the burden of being chief had grown up to take on the burden of being a god. That was fucking irony if he ever met it.

Douay-Reims English Version? Did I even speak? The cane flashed south, this time making contact with the stub where her smallest finger once was; now cut down to the knuckle. “Who will rule?” The high priest demanded with another punctuated thwack. Avian choked on her words, “The diligent—” “Who will rule?” His voice rose an intonation, mingling with the heat that formed a soupy layer in the compact room. “The diligent!” She replied dutifully as heat spread beneath her eyes.

It's stupid, the hurt that takes hold when trust is broken. I end up leaving the room I have called my own, and I surface out and into the yard. Zeus believes I am the next god. As in the real god, the god of gods. That was his job. He's ruled for many eons and stood at the helm of the world, reigning over every kind that there is. I stand in the yard looking around to make sure no one is about, and then I summon him. Picturing him with everything I have, using every part of my being to materialise him in front of me.

“You really are a god, aren’t you? You cheated death. Only a god can do that.” He says nothing for a moment, but his eyes flick to a random corner of the room. “When we return home, you cannot say a word about this to anyone.” I struggle to understand why. “I need you to swear it.” “Why?” “Because this skill of mine isn’t natural. It goes against the Goddess. If I am a god, Lexa, I am the God of Death, sure, if we’re calling it what it is, and what I’ve done for you and Chessie has just allowed you to live a little longer for my own gain. That’s the only reason it worked. It’s not healing. It’s selfishness.”

Carlin requested for Adele to bring something to relive my headache, it was another obnoxious brew, I closed my nose and began drinking. We described out experience to her leaving nothing. She nodded a lot but said very little. It was starting to annoy me. “The Hunter God is from a different time of war and bloodshed. He’s the reason why we have senses and physical powers,” She said finally. “It will not be easy going against him. But you have Moon Goddess blessings.” Carlin and I nodded. “Let’s go back to my father. I have an announcement to make.” He said. I wondered what he was going to say.

asked an old man standing in the sky, his eyes fixed on the forbidden land's door. "Well, let's see. If this kid really has the key, there's no harm in fighting the whole world. Because maybe we can create a new god for this world!" said the old woman beside him with a smile and high hopes when mentioning gods. All the elders who were hiding now had one hope and one desire that had become their lifelong obsession: to reach a higher level called godhood. That was their hope. Perhaps everyone also hoped to become a god, especially in this world that had lost its direction.

He stood tall, immovable, his silhouette carved against the lantern light like a verdict the world itself had no choice but to obey. When he spoke, it was not a statement. Not even a declaration. It was the truth. “I…”His voice dropped, deep and resonant, vibrating through bone and breath. “…AM THE GOD OF WAR.” The tent felt it… the wooden beams, the ground underneath, everything seemed to tremble under the force of that certainty. Even the flames bowed, shrinking lower as if in reverence… or perhaps fear. A heartbeat later… Lucien slammed his fist against the table. Maps jumped. Ink pots rattled. It was a sound that didn’t just echo… it promised death.

Each scream. He hadn't built the game. He'd been trapped inside it. For years. Decades. Centuries. He'd survived two hundred forty-seven worlds—more than twenty times their own count, more than most players could imagine—and then, when the exit finally opened, when freedom was a single step away, he'd stayed. By becoming its god.