Chapter 14: Team Ruby and Pyrrha learn the secret mysteries
The dorm room breathed with the slow, synchronized rhythm of sleeping women.
Nora watched them from the edge of the bed—Ruby curled into a tight ball beneath her crimson cloak, her silver eyes flickering behind closed lids; Weiss sprawled with uncharacteristic vulnerability, her white hair fanned across the pillow like fresh snow; Yang lay on her back, one arm thrown over her head, the slow rise and fall of her chest a study in peaceful contradiction; Blake had wedged herself into the corner of the top bunk, her book still clutched to her chest like a shield; and Pyrrha, beautiful, powerful Pyrrha, rested on the floor with a stillness that seemed almost sculpted.
All of them naked. All of them vulnerable. All of them under Argent's control.
Nora felt the weight of that truth settle into her chest like a warm stone. She should have been horrified. She should have been screaming, running, calling for help. Instead, she found herself studying the curve of Yang's breast in the dim light, the way Weiss's nipples had tightened in the cool air of the dorm, the gentle parting of Blake's thighs that revealed a shadowy promise between them.
Beautiful, she thought. Every single one of them.
Argent stood by the window, his silhouette sharp against the pale glow of the broken moon. He hadn't dressed. Neither had she. The air against her bare skin felt electric, charged with something she couldn't name.
"You're quiet," he said.
Nora shrugged, though he couldn't see the gesture. "I'm processing."
"Take your time."
She slid off the bed, her bare feet silent against the cold floor. The distance between them felt like a held breath—charged, expectant, trembling with the possibility of what came next.
"Why are they still asleep?" she asked.
"I'm holding the compulsion in place." Argent turned from the window, his dark eyes catching the faint light. "They'll wake when I release it. For now, they dream. They don't know I've lifted the deeper influence, the part that made them accept everything so quickly. They're still mine—they'll always be mine—but right now, they're just... resting."
"Making sure I can see the difference," Nora murmured. "The real them, versus the them you've shaped."
"And decide which you prefer."
She stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin. "You already know which one I prefer."
"Do I?"
"You know everything, Master." The word tasted sweet on her tongue, like honey and sin. "You know what I am. You've known since the moment you saw me in the dining hall."
Argent's smile was slow, knowing, born of secrets older than Beacon itself.
"Tell me," Nora said. "All of it. No more pieces. No more half-truths. I want to know everything."
He considered her for a long moment, his gaze stripping away the last of her defenses. Then he reached out, his fingers brushing the curve of her jaw, tilting her face up to meet his.
"You remember what I told you about my father," he said. "The God of Incest."
"Suppressed by the other gods. Betrayed. Imprisoned."
"Imprisoned in a cage beyond time and space, in a place the Brothers called the Null. A void between voids, a silence between silences. They bound him with chains forged from the fear and shame of humanity, anchored by every taboo, every whispered condemnation, every act of repression that taught mortals to recoil from the love they were born to share."
Nora's breath caught. "They made sex wrong."
"They made sacred things obscene." Argent's voice hardened, a flicker of ancient rage passing behind his eyes. "They took the deepest bonds of family—parent and child, sister and sister, brother and sister—and they poisoned them. They convinced humanity that such love was monstrous, forbidden, worthy of punishment and shame. And with every generation that believed the lie, my father's prison grew stronger."
He let his hand fall, stepping back to put distance between them. The broken moonlight traced the lines of his body—the lean muscles, the pale scars, the quiet violence coiled beneath his skin.
"In the early days, the God of Incest was not feared. He was loved. He was worshiped. Families brought their daughters to his altars, their sons to his temples, and they lay together in sacred union, blessing the earth with their devotion. Their passion was holy. Their pleasure was prayer. Every orgasm was an offering, every coupling a hymn."
Nora's heart hammered against her ribs. "And the other gods hated him for it."
"They feared him." Argent's jaw tightened. "Feared the power that came from his worship. Feared that devotion so complete, so unconditional, would leave nothing for them. So they hunted him. Tore him from the world. Made him a monster in the eyes of the very mortals who had once loved him."
He reached into the pocket of his discarded trousers, retrieving a small object—a pendant carved from black stone, shaped like two figures entwined in an embrace.
"This was my mother's," he said. "She gave it to her father the night before she was conceived. He passed it to her mother when she came of age. It's been through seven generations of my family, each one honoring my father with passion that would make the Brothers weep with shame at their own cowardice."
Nora took the pendant, her fingers tracing the figures carved into the stone. They were beautiful together, perfectly matched, their union captured in an eternal moment of ecstasy.
"You're his son," she whispered. "You're a demigod."
"Half-god. Half-mortal. Born of a union the world would call monstrous." Argent's smile was sharp, self-aware. "My mother was only sixteen when she conceived me. Her father had just turned forty. Their love was the kind that stories pretend doesn't exist—the kind that crosses every line the Brothers drew and burns through every barrier they erected."
"She loved him."
"She still does. Even now, in her quarters in Atlas, she thinks of him every night. Remembers the weight of his body on hers, the taste of his lips, the way he whispered her name like a prayer. She gave herself to him on the altar of my father's worship, and she's never regretted a single moment."
Argent reached out, folding Nora's fingers over the pendant, pressing it into her palm.
"That's what I'm offering you," he said. "Not just service. Not just pleasure. A legacy. A purpose. A chance to be part of something ancient and eternal and utterly, beautifully wrong in the eyes of a world too afraid to understand."
Nora's fingers curled around the stone. She felt its weight, its warmth, the faint pulse of power that lived inside it.
"How many women know the truth?" she asked.
"Seven."
"Seven?"
"Seven that I've told directly. The others—" He gestured toward the sleeping forms scattered around the room. "They believe they're part of a sacred order. They've accepted the teachings, embraced the mysteries, given themselves to me and each other with joy and devotion. But they don't know the full truth of my father's nature. They don't know what we're truly working toward."
"And what are we working toward?"
Argent's eyes caught the light, and for a moment—just a moment—Nora saw something ancient looking out through them. Something vast and patient and unutterably hungry.
"We're going to free him," he said. "My father. The God of Incest. We're going to break the chains the Brothers forged and bring him back into the world. And when he rises, he'll remember the ones who released him. He'll bless them. He'll make them something more than human."
"More than human how?"
"Immortal." The word fell like a stone into still water. "Untouched by time. Unbound by death. We'll walk beside him as his chosen, his priests and priestesses, his beloved children. And we'll fill the world with his worship, teaching mortals the truth they've forgotten—that love has no boundaries, that family is the deepest sacrament, that pleasure shared between parent and child, sister and sister, brother and brother, is the holiest act of devotion there is."
Nora felt dizzy. The words were too large, too vast to fully comprehend. But beneath the shock, she felt something else—a rising tide of exhilaration, a sense of being swept up in something that mattered, something real.
"How do we free him?" she asked.
"Energy." Argent turned back to the window, looking up at the broken moon. "His prison can't be broken by force. It has to be dismantled, piece by piece, by acts of devotion that directly contradict the chains that bind him. Every time a father lies with his daughter, a chain weakens. Every time a sister joins with her sister, a link shatters. The scandalized, the taboo—these are the weapons that break the prison. And I've been collecting them, one by one, for five years."
"'Collecting' them?"
"The women I've brought into the fold. The families I've restored to worship. The daughters I've planted in mothers waiting to raise them, knowing their husbands won't be the ones who'll make them feel whole. We're one hundred strong now, and growing. And if we've already accomplished so much in five years..."
His gaze shifted to Nora.
"You see why I need capable, loyal lieutenants in the field. Why I need a proper co-leader who can help me manage the growing network. Someone intelligent enough to coordinate the safe-houses and the study circles. Someone bold enough to handle the skeptical and the curious. Someone willing to be the public face of the 'Golden Path' so that the world focuses on the message instead of the man behind it. I need people who can seduce other women into our arms."
"Including my team," Nora said, looking at Ruby curled on the bed.
"Especially your team. I recognized them the moment I saw them together. Four young huntresses, trained to fight, conditioned to obey authority, desperate for belonging and purpose. They're perfect candidates."
Nora's gaze drifted back to the sleeping women—to Ruby's innocent face, to Weiss's proud features softened by sleep, to Blake's guarded expression relaxed for once, to Yang's fierce beauty. Her pulse quickened.
"You've already started with them," she said. "I can feel it—the way they looked at you in the dining hall. The way they responded when you spoke."
"I planted seeds." Argent's voice was soft, almost gentle. "Nudged their dreams in certain directions. Made them more receptive to the truth. But I haven't fully claimed any of them. Not yet. That's why I brought them here tonight. I wanted to see them together, to understand how they fit, to feel out the dynamics before I make my move."
"And me?"
"You're different." He turned to face her, and there was something raw in his expression, something unguarded. "I watched you before I ever spoke to you. Saw the strength in you, the hunger, the loneliness you hide behind your jokes and your smile. You're not just another recruit, Nora. You're a partner. An ally. The kind of woman who could stand beside me and help build something that lasts for centuries."
Nora felt the warmth of his words spread through her chest.
"I want that," she said. "I want all of it."
"Good." He stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat of his body against her skin. "Then let's begin."
Before she could respond, he raised his hand. The compulsion holding the other women in sleep shattered like glass, and five pairs of eyes snapped open.