AOR

Spies die in silence. Saints burn in light. Era might do both. After a lifetime of covert operations and moral compromises, Era hoped to spend her exile in quiet prayer at an English monastery. But when a corpse levitates during evening vespers and the sweet old nuns start collecting its blood like holy wine, she realises she’s stepped into something far older and far worse than sin. Soon, she’s in the custody of H.V.N, a shadowed agency that doesn’t serve any country, but answers directly to the gods. Plural. And they’re not happy. Because Era wasn’t meant to get involved. Now, she has two choices: execution… or servitude. Her only option is to survive the God's trials, prove herself useful, and perhaps earn a place in a pantheon-bound war where saints are spies and magic comes with contracts. But Era’s never played by anyone’s rules-least of all gods with agendas. And the deeper she falls into their tangled world of relics, prophecy, and judgment, the more she begins to suspect this wasn’t an accident at all. Maybe Era was never just an unlucky witness. Maybe she was the trigger.