1 – Restless Sleep in the Scion’s Den
Atlas’s apartment was eerily quiet compared to the chaos of the last twenty-four hours.
After everything—the revelations, the exhaustion, the weight of transformation—sleep had come easily for all three of them.
Tank and Heath crashed on the massive sectional couch in Atlas’s spacious, modern penthouse, while Atlas himself retreated to his bedroom, letting them rest undisturbed.
The weight of the city outside was distant, a world apart from the one they were stepping into.
And in their dreams, that world began to shift.
---
2 – Heath’s Dream: The Chains of Control
Heath knew he was dreaming.
He stood in a vast, empty void, black and endless, stretching in all directions.
But he wasn’t alone.
Daniel was there.
Not in control. Not possessing him. Just… there.
The shape of him flickered, unstable—one second, he looked whole, the next, twisted, barely holding form.
Heath smirked. “Not so powerful now, are you?”
Daniel snarled. “You think you won? You think you can keep me locked up forever?”
Heath crossed his arms. “Yeah. I do.”
Daniel’s jaw tightened, rage simmering under the surface. “I will tear my way out of you, piece by fucking piece.”
Heath sighed. “See, that’s exactly why you lost. You’re all anger, all hunger. No patience. No control.”
Daniel’s form shuddered, flickering wildly.
Heath stepped closer, his voice steady, unwavering.
“You don’t get to call the shots anymore,” he said. “You exist because I allow it.”
Daniel’s lips curled. “Bullshit. I’m still here, aren’t I?”
Heath tilted his head. “Yeah. And if you ever want to do anything again, you’re gonna have to earn it.”
Daniel froze. “What?”
Heath grinned, slow and sharp. “You want out? Even for a second? You serve me now.”
Daniel stared.
And then—he laughed, low and bitter. “You really think I’d bow to you?”
Heath shrugged. “Then enjoy your prison.”
Daniel’s eyes flashed, his form twisting again. “You’re bluffing.”
Heath smirked. “Try me.”
A silence stretched between them.
Daniel seethed, but he wasn’t stupid.
Not completely.
And Heath could see it—he was afraid.
Not of Heath, necessarily.
But of being trapped forever, of never feeling anything again.
Heath leaned in, voice dark and quiet.
“You want power? Earn it. You want freedom? Prove your loyalty.”
Daniel’s form flickered violently, his teeth gritted. “This isn’t over.”
Heath smirked. “No. It isn’t.”
And then—
The void shattered.
---
3 – Tank’s Dream: The Words of a God
Tank stood in a grand, endless hall.
The air smelled of incense and fire, thick and intoxicating.
Before him, sitting on a throne of black stone and smoldering embers, was a figure that could only be Asmodeus.
He was massive, his presence crushing, both beautiful and terrifying in a way that defied logic.
His horns curved back like a crown, his golden eyes gleamed with amusement, and his smile—it was knowing, indulgent, as if he had been expecting Tank all along.
Tank swallowed.
Before he could speak, Asmodeus leaned forward, resting his chin on his knuckles. “So. The new Scion finally stands before me.”
His voice was deep, reverberating through Tank’s bones.
Tank exhaled. “I didn’t ask for this.”
Asmodeus chuckled. “You didn’t have to.”
Tank stiffened. “What does it mean?”
The great demon—no, god—tilted his head. “What do you think it means?”
Tank hesitated. “…That I’m supposed to spread your worship?”
Asmodeus grinned, slow and wicked. “That’s part of it.”
Tank squared his shoulders. “Then tell me the rest.”
Asmodeus stood, his form shifting, warping—one moment human-like, the next something more, something impossible to look at directly.
“A Scion of Asmodeus,” he murmured, circling Tank, “is not merely a priest, nor merely a vessel. He is the embodiment of my will on Earth.”
Tank swallowed hard.
“You are not meant to be a servant,” Asmodeus continued. “You are meant to be a master.”
Tank shivered.
Not with fear.
With understanding.
“You wield power,” Asmodeus said, voice curling like smoke. “And power must be wielded with intent. Without shame. Without hesitation.”
Tank listened.
Felt the weight of those words sink into him.
“Lust is sacred,” Asmodeus said. “But so is dominion. So is control.”
Tank exhaled slowly, his body thrumming with new awareness.
He had been given something divine.
And now?
He had to become worthy of it.
Asmodeus smirked, sensing the shift in him. “Yes. Now you understand.”
Tank met his gaze.
And then—
The world disappeared.
---
4 – Waking and Understanding
Tank jerked awake, sucking in a breath.
Heath groaned from the other end of the couch, rubbing his eyes. “Fuck.”
Atlas strolled into the living room, sipping a glass of water. “That was fast.”
Tank exhaled, running a hand through his hair. His whole body still felt charged, like something had been burned into his very being.
Heath sat up slowly, stretching. “I… think I figured some shit out.”
Atlas grinned. “Good. So did Tank.”
Tank blinked at him. “You knew?”
Atlas smirked. “Please. I’ve been there.”
Heath exhaled. “So what now?”
Atlas took another sip of water. “Now? We get to work.”
Tank sat forward. “Rebuilding the worship of Asmodeus.”
Atlas nodded. “Exactly.”
Heath hesitated. “How do we even start?”
Atlas grinned. “We don’t need temples. We don’t need priests in robes. Gay men have always worshipped him, whether they knew it or not.”
Tank understood now.
Lust. Power. Control.
Mastery over the self, over desire, over others.
They weren’t creating something new.
They were reclaiming something lost.
Atlas stretched. “We spread the word. We start small. A whisper here, a conversation there. We teach men that what they want isn’t shameful.”
Tank nodded slowly. “We make them see what we see.”
Atlas grinned. “Exactly.”
Heath exhaled. “So we just… live it?”
Atlas smirked. “It’s not just about fucking, Heath. It’s about owning who you are. About taking what you deserve.”
Tank clenched his jaw. “Then we start now.”
Atlas raised his glass. “That’s the spirit.”
---
5 – Parting Ways
An hour later, they stood at Atlas’s door, preparing to head out.
Atlas clapped a hand on Tank’s shoulder. “You’re ready.”
Tank exhaled. “I will be.”
Atlas turned to Heath. “And you?”
Heath smirked, just slightly. “I’ll figure it out.”
Atlas chuckled. “Good answer.”
Tank and Heath stepped out, the world feeling different now.
Because now?
They weren’t just men with knowledge.
They were men with purpose.
And nothing would be the same again.
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