The Lamb stood at the heart of the forest, their Red Crown perched slightly askew on their woolly head, bathed in the fading light of twilight. Despite their small, innocent appearance, there was an undeniable authority in their stance. The surrounding shadows twisted and stretched, as if bending to the Lamb’s will.

Nomos, the childlike Muse of Greed, lay crumpled at their hooves, wide-eyed and trembling. His once-pristine fur was streaked with dirt, and his gaze flicked nervously between the Lamb and the shattered remnants of the Green Crown, lying in pieces at his side.

“Things... they stay, right?” Nomos stammered, his voice small and desperate. “I won’t betray you… I promise…”

The Lamb tilted their head, a soft, playful smile curling on their lips. Their eyes glowed faintly, a mixture of mischief and absolute control.

“You’re so cute when you’re desperate,” they cooed sweetly, before suddenly pouncing. In an instant, the Lamb was on top of him, straddling his chest with effortless grace, their hooves pressing him firmly to the ground.

“Down,” they purred, their voice a soft command, the warmth of their small frame betraying the dominance they carried. “Good boy.”

Nomos gasped, the air knocked from his lungs as a rush of dark, overwhelming energy surged through him. His connection to greed—his power, his identity—faded, replaced by something deeper, something far more binding.

“Welcome to the Cult,” the Lamb whispered, their voice still sweet but laced with finality. They nuzzled his forehead gently, the warmth of their wool brushing against his skin. “You’re mine now.”

Nomos blinked, his world spinning, his heart pounding in his chest. And for the first time, he truly understood what it meant to belong—

Completely.
Permanently.
Adorably doomed.