Novel In God We Trust Novels & Stories

Completely forgetting about a certain small brown envelope left at the foot of his king sized bed, with a glistening red thread and a letter of a wine god left unread. — On the other side of South Korea, in a secluded area by the edge of a forest clouded by Mist, a god has fallen asleep. To be exact, it was in a certain office of a huge mansion lined with high walls, a mop of raven hair laid slumped on the desk table. After a week of deliberation on whether they should send a letter or not, they finally gave in. Their right hand is stained with ink, holding a pen in their sleep with a bunch of crumpled paper on the floor.

“…You are here to harass me like those scums… you should die after all…!” The moment her eyes narrowed— the atmosphere immediately turned cold and dense. I had difficulties breathing again. “Hold it! How am I even harassing you!?” I quickly retorted. “…You are trying to feel pleasure from my hand…!” Her remark was so true and ridiculous that my mind went blank for three seconds. Something inside my brain seems to have snapped afterwards. I’d realize that the corner of my mouth is twitching upwards. “Am I THAT untrustworthy!? You told me I was different and you said you’d believe me…!”

And the strange thing — the thing I sat with long after he left that night, long after the room had settled into its nighttime quiet and the patrol had made its adjusted rotation and the city had moved through its evening beyond the walls — Was that I did. Know. Not fully. Not without reservation. Not without the glass still in place and the filing system still running and all the careful architecture of a person who had learned very early that trust was a thing that got you killed. But underneath all of that. Something small. Something that had arrived without permission and refused to be filed. I knew.

Shaking her head, I pointed slowly, at the door, trying to tell them I wanted to leave, but they all nodded and pointed hands at the bed, I had gotten up from. "No, I wasn’t going back to that bed, the bed where I barely woke up from. What if I sit on it, and it returns me to my coma. I don’t even know where I am or who these people are, but the last thing I would do is trust them. Trust is bad, trust is pain… trust… trust killed my…" I paused as I allowed the dark feeling to pass me through. What did trust kill? That was one of the numerous things I wished I knew.

It feels like I was pushing a huge rock and didn’t make it to move. Anubis smiled in a sinister way. His eyes stare back at me with his black orbs’ pupils. “This isn’t funny for telling me you are meeting some God. Isn’t that insulting?” “What? —” My voice trailed off, “What are you talking about? Why do you keep talking about a God?” I tried to hide anything that he can tell I know a God. But when I think more of it, his name, and his aura. It isn’t just right like a human. “Are you a God?”

Everything, and I’ll start with the truth. I let my eyes flick to the letter clenched in Mila's hand. Ah, so they have already begun to dig. Good, that would make the game interesting. You’ve uncovered things you don’t understand, I said. Things that will burn you alive if you’re not careful. Mila’s grip on the letter tightened. And you think you understand them??? Oh, I murmured, almost tenderly, I don’t just understand them, I’ve lived them. The silence that followed was thick with dread. They didn’t trust me, not yet. And they shouldn’t, because trust is a luxury in a world like this.

The morning air was cold as the black SUV pulled up to the gates of the Academy. Only a few days ago, Faith had left this place as a hero. Now, she was returning as a ghost. The news of the “Crescent Trust” and the frozen accounts had traveled faster than a wildfire. As she stepped out of the car, she didn't feel like the Silver Saviour. She felt like the orphan girl who had first arrived here with nothing but a suitcase and a secret.

"I’m calculating." "The math is zero, Zara," he reminded me, setting the crate down and stepping into my space. He smelled of yeast and the cold wind. "You won. We’re boring. Remember?" "We're not boring," I countered, reaching up to brush a stray flake of snow from his eyelash. "We’re just... unscripted." The city of Newark had changed, but it hadn't become a utopia. The "Design" was gone, but the human heart remained as messy and unpredictable as ever. The Public Trust was now a sprawling, bureaucratic machine, and sometimes it made mistakes. Sometimes it overreached.

Gary asked, staring at me with his words full of despise. I shook my head, looking back at him, and smiled. “The Mafia God was my excellent ally and friend. I've known him for some while, and if he were here, I don't think anyone would act as insolent as you. Novela intruded into the conversation, bringing to everyone's notice the Mafia God's attitude towards Gary while he was alive and how he didn't let him get too much into the business. Novela's words changed everything as doubts began to grow in the hearts of those that placed their trust in Gary, as I stared at them looking away and whispering to each other, making it easy to identify them.

“Not full communication. But something close.” Nova felt strange hearing that. “You mean they know we’re watching over them.” “Yes.” “And they’re okay with that?” Kieran’s tone held quiet wonder. “They’re not afraid.” Nova whispered softly. “Why?” His answer warmed her heart. “Because they trust us.” She let that truth settle inside her. Trust. After everything. After all the chaos. They still trusted. Nova spoke quietly. “We can’t betray that.” “No,” Kieran agreed. “We won’t.” Another moment passed.