Chapter 53 The Ethics of Power
The Ethics of Power
Theo
The woman in my arms moans as I trail my lips down her neck, hand gliding over her stomach, reaching for the button on her pants.
She tries to kiss me, but something about that just doesn’t seem appealing, not when there’s a kiss pending, and somehow, kissing someone else before I do what’s needed feels wrong…
“Fuck…” the woman who is in a year above me moans.
I snap open the button on her pants, my cock throbbing as I slip my hand into her pants, and then she stiffens.
“I-I can’t do this!” she gasps, jerking away, eyes wide. Her heart is hammering, and she’s looking at me like I just sprung a trap.
Right.
I don’t say a word. I’m kind of expecting it.
She bolts, leaving me alone in the locker room. I shake my head as I reach for a cigarette from my back pocket and light it, glancing down at my hard-on.
There’s nothing about me that girls don’t dig.
Yeah, I know I’m pretty rough, but the girls I fuck don’t mind that. In fact, they love it.
I take a long drag on the cigarette, eyes narrowing. The fuck is going on?
I’ve tried to get laid three times before today, but each time, something happens. The first time, the girl got cold feet and, mumbling incoherently, grabbed her dress and ran.
The second time, the woman started shaking and then sobbing as she said, “It’s a bad mistake.”
The third, well, she pushed me away and told me she can’t do this, and when I asked what the fuck happened, she just shook her head and ran.
It’s been two weeks since we returned to the Academy. We never got to go back to the Blood Moon Pack after the last attack. We spent two days training with Dante and Ahren, but that was it. Then we had to come back here.
The air feels heavy, and the tension hangs above us like a storm cloud.
I’ve been avoiding Heaven a little more each day. And yet, somehow, we end up finding one another, but I’m pulling away slowly so she doesn’t notice. She’s smart, and she’s asked me a few times if I’m fine, to which I have always reassured her.
Whatever the fuck this is, it was not in my plans for the fucking future, and since my plan to get some pussy isn’t working, I’m just getting even more fucking frustrated.
I walk into one of the stalls, slamming the door behind me. Great, now I have to handle this myself whilst trying not to jerk off to the thought of someone. I am not going down that fucking path.
An hour later, I’m in one of the lecture halls. We’re getting our first lesson with Kenneth Arden. Let’s see what he has to say. Fucking psycho… Yeah, I ain’t in a good fucking mood. I keep twirling my pen between my fingers, bored, as we wait for him to enter.
I haven’t seen him anywhere on campus, although he arrived last night. His hair is slicked back, his cold eyes scanning the room. Two guards are with him, and so is the Head Commander. I can sense the magic around him. So, he’s being suppressed…
“Well, it’s nice to see myself at the Academy that I once helped fund to make a reality,” he says, his cold voice slithering through the room.
I scoff. Give it to him to drop that shit.
“As you all know, I am Kenneth Henry Arden, and have been asked to give you insight into the minds of the truly powerful.”
“You mean killers, villains and evil people?” Artemis asks, her eyes cold as she stares at Arden.
Damn, she’s getting moody. I smirk slightly, my eyes searching for the other blond diva we have in this school, Charlotte Arden, unless she skipped the lesson, but I spot her sitting in the back. I can’t see her face from here, but she remains silent.
And Jayce isn’t here… He’s been missing more and more lessons… Ever since Sienna’s returned to the Academy, Jayce has become more and more scarce.
“A title those who call themselves the good guys, the heroes, give to another group, simply because they do not see eye to eye with them,” Arden says, his cold eyes burning into her. I see Carter frown as he sits forward, his broad shoulders shielding Artemis slightly from Arden’s view.
“Still evil,” Artemis mutters.
A few people nod as I continue to spin my pen, leaning back in my seat.
“Call it what you wish, Miss Nicholson, but it doesn’t change the truth.
Those who call themselves ‘heroes’ will tell you that the truly powerful are wrong.
That is their opinion; it doesn’t make it the only right one.
” He steps forward, his shiny boots squeaking against the marble floor.
“But let’s call them villains to make it easier for you all.
Villains win because they are not afraid of themselves. ”
I look up at him, noticing how Aunty Maria’s eyes are fixed on him. And although she’s standing with her legs apart, hands behind her back, I know she’s ready to attack if the need arises.
A few students shift in their seats, glancing at each other.
“Are you saying we are afraid of ourselves?” Renji asks, with a tiny frown on his forehead as he looks at Arden.
“Yes. You cling to morals,” he continues arrogantly.
“To laws, to codes, crafted by those who are in positions of power. You don’t get to choose what you want to do.
You are told what to do. You all fear the rage and dark thoughts that you all have inside of you, yet too afraid to ever mention them because it would make you look like an evil person.
You fear what you are capable of. You fear your own thoughts.
Your own instincts. Your own hunger. And those you consider ‘good’ or ‘on your side’. ”
His gaze sweeps across the room, like he’s looking at a pack of slugs or some shit, before he smiles coldly.
“But a villain?” He taps his temple lightly. “A villain listens to the quiet voice in here. The one you smother with rules and guilt and expectations. And that allows them to unlock capabilities that you all squash over moral beliefs.”
“Love how he says ‘you’, dude knows he’s a criminal,” someone mutters.
His smile turns sharper.
“Let’s take the current state into account.” I see Aunty Maria’s watching him intently, but Arden simply begins pacing.
“The Indomitable are gaining the upper hand; not once have I heard where you have won or lowered their numbers at all. They seek you out, they attack, they win. They don’t apologise for feeling anger, or ambition, or desire.
They do not bend to systems designed to keep us small.
How helpless have you all felt? How many of you have lost loved ones?
How many of you have felt angry that you haven’t gone on the offensive? ”
I clench my jaw, sensing the unease in the room. How fucking easily he’s getting to everyone.
“We know why we aren’t attacking, because we don’t have enough intel,” the Arden Princess finally speaks, and all eyes turn on her as she stares at her father with full contempt. “We also know that it is our humanity that holds us together.”
“But it will also be what will cost you your life,” he says now, looking up at her.
The odd tension between them rises, and I wonder how it must feel to know your father is a turd.
Arden waves a hand dismissively. “Humanity, laws, right, wrong. Those are cages built for the powerless. A hero will stop at the bars. A villain will simply remove the entire cage.”
Some students sit straighter, their annoyance clear on their faces. Others are thoughtful, and I can tell he’s enjoying it.
The reactions.
“You believe righteousness makes you strong.” He tilts his head. “It does not. It makes you predictable.”
He begins to walk again, circling the room slowly. “While you hesitate, a villain acts. While you think, a villain strikes. While you decide whether you’re allowed to do something, a villain is already doing it.”
His voice drops, soft but unnervingly cold.
“That is why villains win. Not because they are smarter. Not because they are stronger. But because they refuse to be held back by the invisible chains you still cling to.”
He reaches the front of the classroom again.
“And that,” he says, lifting his chin slightly, “is why you are here.”
Silence follows as most of those in this room don’t know how to react.
“You will not become villains. That is not my aim.” He looks over at Aunty Maria, who doesn’t even give him a reaction. “Because most of you don’t have it in you.”
Some of the students seem to relax.
“But you will learn to think like one, because if you do not understand the mind of one, and continue believing that goodness alone will save you, then you will remain in that cage, without freedom. And freedom wins wars.”
Arden finishes his little villain monologue, leaving the majority unsettled and uneasy.
The room is silent, and I finally stop spinning my pen, scoffing as I place the pen down with a snap, making most of the class turn.
“Right… you done with your little villain cheer pep-talk? Cause I wanna say something,” I drawl.
A few of the class snicker, and I turn, winking at them.
“Ah, Theo Westwood… I’ve heard a lot about you. What do you want to say?”
“Everyone’s heard of me,” I answer cockily. “So, your big lesson is that villains win because they don’t care about consequences? No morals and that shit?”
Arden’s eyes flicker, his annoyance hidden well as he looks at me with some disdain, almost as if knowing I’m going to annoy the fuck out of him.
“Yes. Is there a point you’d like to make? Because I made mine very clearly.”
“Oh yeah, I do wanna make a point, init, or I wouldn’t have spoken.
Actually, I probably would have spoken anyway.
” Smirking, I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table.
“I mean, I’ve met a lot of villains, and half of them didn’t win anything except an early grave.
And I mean, if the villains won… then you wouldn’t be shackled by magic and made to teach like a dog on a leash. ”
A couple of students choke on laughter, but Arden doesn’t, and I don’t even bother to look at Aunty Maria.
“I am talking about the current situation with the Indomitable,” he all but snarls.
“Sure, but your theory’s wrong.”
Arden tilts his head, raising an eyebrow. “Enlighten me.”
“You’re stating a lie,” I say calmly. “Most villains aren’t free. In fact, most of them are chained tighter than any hero ever will be.”
Whispers stir behind me, but I keep going.
“They follow a leader, a master, one they have to answer to no matter what, and often, if they fail, they pay a heavy price. When a hero fails, their comrades are always there to pick them up and protect them, whilst a villain will threaten their family and punish them. You talk about them like they’re some fucking amazing, untouchable creatures who are above all else.
You’re glamorising villains, bro. It’s fucking bullshit. ” I shake my head slowly.
I pause before continuing, “Most villains are soldiers obeying orders. They’re just on a different team. Some even blackmailed to do their bidding.”
Kenneth’s expression doesn’t change, but something in the room shifts. At least he’s listening, I can see it in his eyes.
Good.
“So, you’re saying we’re alike?” some girl asks.
“Kinda and kinda not. But the ones who win aren’t the ones who scream the loudest or break the most rules, like this shackled villain’s saying,” I continue.
“Every army is like a deck of cards. We have our aces, our kings, our queens and all that shit, but my favourite card? The Joker – the wildcard that can be anything. The ones who never sit on a throne. The ones who don’t need armies or titles or applause. ”
I rap my knuckles on the desk. “The ones who work in silence. The ones who don’t answer to anyone. A third army, so to speak, small, but the deadliest, consisting of solo players.”
A slow realisation ripples through the class. They look between us, some of them confused, some of them clicking on.
“Heroes show compassion,” I continue. “Villains are driven by fear. But the ones in the shadows? The ones who move without permission, without fear, without loyalty? The ones who choose their morals and do what they want, they’re the ones who shape endings.”
A deep silence fills the room, and I continue.
“And to become a Joker… Well… you need to stop caring about what your loved ones will think of you, stop caring or taking advice. Not just anyone can become a wildcard. You have to have it in you, and not many do… it means walking a different path.”
Arden’s eyes narrow, studying me with such intensity and a glint of intrigue.
“And which one are you, Theo Westwood?” he asks quietly.
I don’t break eye contact as I sit back and pick up my pen again before I smirk.
“I’m the kind you don’t see coming,” I reply.
“Interesting,” he murmurs.
He looks away from me only to address the class.
“And that,” he says emotionlessly, “Is why you should be aware of even those you consider allies, because there are men like Mr Westwood out there… and…” He pauses. “Because he’s right.”
There’s a whisper of unease in the room before he smiles.
“Welcome,” he says softly, “to Ethics of Power.”