The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Okay, so...There hasn’t been any noises for a while. I have no idea whether that’s a good or a bad thing. I’ll go with good, just for superstition’s sake. Although there are some faint sounds, like someone’s around in some remote part of the cave/building/whatever. But, come on, Draconia. You’re probably just hallucinating. I mean, you are fucked in the head.

Oh, Christ. Here I thought the sheer weight of dreams would drown out my self-pitying. Not frigging likely. Just because my psychotic dreams became reality doesn’t mean I’m suddenly normal. Even if whatever the hell is causing this turned everybody into me, I still wouldn’t be normal.

Draconia Bathory. Born from a mother crazier than two axolotls wearing a trenchcoat. Fuck. With a name like that, it’s like she wanted me to end the world.

...I’m not escaping telling you about her sometime, am I? Probably not, but that doesn’t mean I won’t postpone it to the best of my ability. Where were we? Lilith and Janet going to Santa Monica. Right.

The two women thus put their differences aside and drove West, taking Venice Boulevard to avoid the Interstate 10. At a glance, it seemed like a stupid decision. For one, the boulevard was strewn with the corpses of abandoned cars. The steely beasts laid there, covered to various extents by whatever element grew best in that part of the Dreamscape. Sand, plant life, water springs...As they drove, they saw the streets changing according to the locals’ most prevalent desires.

In stark contrast, the overhead highway seemed normal when they crossed it, even boring. But amid the hallucinogenic patchwork, it beckoned like a flame does a moth. Janet hadn’t been there a day, and she already understood it on a visceral level—such a gigantic structure looking normal outside of Downtown was way too good to be true. She thus had no reason to doubt Lilith. If the young Anchored said it was safer to go through the fucked-up streets, then it probably was.

Still, the secret agent had her reserves. There was quite a long stretch between Hollywood and Santa Monica. Was there truly no safe passage to Pacific Palisades in between? Well, there was no denying the Aspects covered a lot of terrain—the Aspect of Lust had flown to the airport and Pride was first seen in the frontier with reality. Their turf obviously wasn’t limited to Hollywood proper. But what the hell exactly was going on in Santa Monica? Who was this Ryûjin character? Janet knew answers would come ; just not fast enough to her liking. Maybe she should have taken the wheel after all.

They were fast approaching the coast, turning northwest via Lincoln Boulevard, when the African American noticed a worrying change in the bike’s roar. Were this sputtering and this high-pitched, desperate-sounding whirrs to be expected on a normally failing motorcycle? Shit, son, she was no mechanic. But it sounded like failure alright. Lilith pressed on for a while, but the steed clearly wasn’t fated to get them to the end of their journey.

“Such a waste...” She sighed minutes later as she left it leaning against a signpost. “It remained in pristine condition after all this time, and it kicked the bucket in less than an hour.”

“Yeah...So many machines, so few people able to make them Dreamscape-worthy. Maybe that’s the backlash for letting robots and production lines manufacture all the sodding stuff.”

“I might pick up auto mechanics in the future.” Absent-mindedly observed the operative.

“If such tickles your fancy. Anyway, we’re almost here.”

Judging from the tall walls erected down the street, they were indeed almost somewhere, whatever it was. Fortifications were not part of the typical Californian urban layout.

“Sure. So what exactly is the deal with Dream Santa Monica? Have they finally decided to do a city-wide reenactment of a boys-only club?”

“The 20-something version of it, yes. On one hand, they’re holding off Hollywood with ease. On the other hand, it makes a Playboy magazine look like a women’s rights rally. You thought Master was bad?” Lilith chuckled. “Mate, you’re about to get some serious perspective.”

“I see, so why are we going towards it again?”

“Because as an Anchored, you might have gotten through Aspect territory, but as it stands, your only shot is to brave sexytown over here. And that’s plan B for a reason.”

“Come on,” Scoffed Janet. “It can’t be worse than the Aspect hunting me personally.”

“The Dreamscape is full of new and exciting ways to be disappointed.”

The two women arrived to the wall. It was tall, certainly double a normal man’s height, and appeared to be made out of solid steel, complete with hi-tech devices of all kinds. The Dreamscape had accustomed Janet to be less science-fictiony than that, but she supposed everything was possible.

A CCTV camera turned to their direction, and a part of the wall slid open, revealing a small antechamber.

“Okay, this is the admission area.” Commented Lilith. “You’re not going to like any of what happens from here on in, but we’re dealing with a tightly run police state here—so don’t ever resort to violence, alright?”

“Alright...Police state? Really? With everyone going fruit loops?”

“Well, for men it’s a giant stag party, but for girls it’s a slip-up-and-get-enslaved kind of deal.”

“I see...Low profile then.”

“Right.”

Both women stepped into the antechamber, and predictably enough, it closed behind them. In front of them appeared the hologram of a thoroughly neutral humanoid figure.

“Greetings. Welcome to Santa Monica admission chamber number twelve. I will now determine if you are a man, a babe, a Changeling or an irrelevant kind of lifeform. Do not attempt to bribe me, flee or believe for one second the Aspects can save you.”

There was a cheesy lightshow for a few seconds, and the figure spoke again.

“You have been determined to be : babes. Please stand by.”

“Alright, this is already getting on my tits.” Groaned Janet.

“It’s supposed to, actually.”

The hologram flickered, and instead of a nondescript placeholder appeared a blonde bombshell with purple eyeliner, blue lipstick and, generally speaking, toxic levels of skankiness.

“Hi giiirls!”

Janet blinked. The apparition, clearly a recording rather than an autonomous AI, carried on.

“You’re going to enter the perfect Californian paradise! No more poopie-meanie Changelings, no more boredom, and above all, no more troubles! In the new Santa Monica, everything’s a party and everyone loves sexy babes like you and me!”

“A bit culty,” commented Janet, “But nothing too infuriating so far.”

“Oh, that’s coming.”

As if on cue, the virtual trollop gasped.

“Oh no! You’re not meeting the dress code! Aaaw, you’ll have to be kicked back into the chaos again...” She seemed to pout, before throwing her hands in the air. “Just kiiiiddiiing! My Masters totally have a way to get you dressed properly!”

Before Janet could even utter a “what?” a pink light engulfed the room. It was over in less than a second, but she could tell something had changed as a result. She looked down...

“What the FUCK?!”

Her full professional attire had all but disappeared. In its stead were a scandalously short tank top that didn’t even close all the way under her chest, and an equally risqué pair of denim shorts. Her shoes, utility belt, gun, wrist computer and the earpiece that went with it were still there, but she had otherwise been forced to reveal more than half of her naked body. In fact, she looked exactly like a comic book’s idea of a woman of action.

She looked over at Lilith. The adorable bloodsucker’s pale body had been similarly revealed, though she looked more like a slutty schoolgirl, with a cut-up white shirt tied together rather than buttoned, conservative shoes and a plaid miniskirt. With her teenage body, the young vampire was one lollipop away from being the perfect jailbait.

Whatever that pink flash was, it took their bodies into account. Janet was lean and muscular, and Lilith appeared dainty and cute. The slutty clothing couldn’t have complemented their respective builds this well by accident.

“Yaaay! You meet the dress code now!” Applauded the hologram.

“...I’m not going to be able to do this, Lilith.”

“If the former me could resist going berserk, I’m sure you can sort it out.”

“That’d be a lot more comforting if I actually knew who the real you is.”

The virtual skank danced around for a while, much to Janet’s irritation. Lilith, on the other hand, just seemed jaded. Eventually, the hologram remembered to finish its task.

“Oooh, right! So, huh, you can go to the party now, but remember! Babes like us are friendly and super-cute. You can do whatever you want out there, but if you act mean and go violent, watch out! You’ll be taken to the big boat and they’ll make sure you’re as friendly as me, like, forever! Tee-hee! In fact, maybe you should try to break the law! The new you will be so fun!”

It then bade the associates goodbye, flickered out of existence, and opened the metal door behind her. The way North was opened, and yet, Janet was reluctant to go forth.

“Fuck. That. I haven’t signed up to the highest possible duty in the country to walk around in...this.”

“I do understand, Janet.” Sighed the young lady. “Girls should be desired, not ogled at. There’s a silver lining though. Men around here might be lecherous and overall pretty shameful examples of the gender, but with the sheer mass of ‘babes’ around, we always have a fair amount of breathing room.”

“Still! I know Santa Monica has this kind of reputation, but straight up forcing women to be half-naked? Were the city’s latent desires always that fucked up?”

Lilith sighed.

“Don’t fret now. That forteress of female subjugation is mostly Ryûjin’s work. He might be preying over Los Angeles’ most shameful desires, but make no mistake—all of this is his fault.”

“I won’t doubt your word, dear vampire, but are you going to tell me who the fuck is this guy already?!”

“Weeeeell I would, but that would kinda ruin the surprise!”

The blonde turned to her companion with a winning smile, only to be greeted by the most hateful look she had ever seen.

“Oh, blimey, don’t be like that!” She protested. “It’s not like we know that much about the bastard. He’s a Japanese guy who fled Japan when the Soaring Abyss hit Tokyo. He decided to open up a dictatoring shop in LA and the result is what you see. Now come on, your buddy isn’t going to magically appear in this room.”

She had a point. The African American sighed, then cringed, then stepped out of the room.

“Woah.”

She’d have engaged in a vibrant soliloquy about familiarity and surprise, but that’s what she uttered when she saw what laid beyond the wall. To her right, there was a clothing store. To her left, a mall’s parking lot. And in both, lots of people.

Not that she hadn’t seen people before, but they were normally sparse in the Dreamscape. Here, it looked much more like the normal world. What’s more, they were shopping, which she didn’t see happening anywhere else during her short time in Lost Angels. They could dream up their own food and clothes, after all.

“Is Dreamshaping forbidden too?”

“Nah, it’s just that they like to keep appearances here. Come on, let’s go seaside.”

“Why? What’s wrong with Lincoln Boulevard? It goes straight into the Palisades.”

“Yes, but being dressed like this feels much more natural on the beach, and trust me, you need to feel comfortable. Besides, the further we’re removed from Hollywood, the better.”

“Hm. Okay.”

They thus went alongside the wall, which was erected just South of Rose Avenue. Janet remembered the official Santa Monica border being a bit further North, but well. It’s not like Venice was going to mind, being a fucked-up patchwork and all.

As they walked, Janet saw what Santa Monica had become. The whole Avenue was lined with bars. Even what were ostensibly houses got repurposed. She checked her computer—the normal world clock indicated 4 AM. Yet, people were partying like the night was just getting started. Which it very well could be, given the flowing nature of time in the Dreamscape.

At first glance, all of this was just innocent partying. But further scrutiny painted a much grimmer, and sadly not unexpected, picture. Men, who despite all their different warped forms, were united in their chiseled sexiness, just plain treated women as toys. Women not being the first word that jumped to Janet’s mind. Bimbos was more like it. Not that they were all blonde and busty, but they were all letting the males have their way.

Waitresses only giggled when they smacked their buttocks. Near-naked sluts were on their knees, giving blowjobs to men that barely acknowledged their presence. Even the most conservatively dressed—here meaning tank tops instead of bikinis—acted remarkably vapid. They just chugged pints of beer and went for the nearest dick. Every third bar or so, Janet and Lilith were loudly invited to join in on the “fun”. Even if she hadn’t something better to do, the black woman would never have accepted the offers for fear of becoming like those floozies.

“It’s something in the atmosphere.” Drably said Lilith. “The vast majority of people are either partying or getting ready for partying, and it’s something of an influence on the minority that just tries to get by. The only strictly enforced rule here is ‘no violence’, but ‘stop thinking, get plastered and shag the nearest guy’ is an ever-present suggestion.”

“Yeah, I can feel it. Like the Dreamscape itself is trying to pull us in.”

“Right. Good news is, it kinda replaces the pull of Nightmare. Falling in Santa Monica is just going to turn you into a nympho. It’s not a proper end for a girl, but it’s better than becoming a Changeling.”

“Let me guess.” Groaned Janet. “A proper end would be ‘good, stay-at-home wifey’?”

“Something wrong with that?”

“Do try to show your indoctrination as little as possible.”

For all the indecency around her, she couldn’t lose sight of the fact that Griffith had turned poor Lilith into a willing subject for female subjugation. The mantra that almost turned her into Orchid was clear—as soon as her strength is no longer needed, she was to gladly become a docile Stepford wife.

“I might have been indoctrinated by Master,” Coldly replied Lilith, “But to recognize the bloody truth.”

“Oh, shut up.”

And so she did. Silence ensued for the duration of their trek through Rose Avenue. Soon, the beach came into sight. For some reason, Lilith was grinning, as if she was about to see a lovingly prepared prank come to fruition. Janet shrugged and looked at the ocean. She saw nothing special. A shimmering expanse under the night sky. Business as usual, really. It’s a really big pool with waves. Even the Dreamscape can’t change that too much.

The beach was much more interesting. Aside from being littered with sexy, sexy people, impossible sand sculptures were just everywhere. Obviously, there were the impossibly intricate sand castles everyone wished to build at some point, but there were also a lot of naked women in suggestive poses. The new Santa Monica certainly was no respectful place for women, but at least it celebrated their sexuality instead of shaming it. Silver linings, blah blah. She still didn’t see what Lilith was grinning for.

And then she turned her head North, towards the iconic Santa Monica pier.

“...Whaaaaat the ffhuh...?” Was all that escaped her lips, much to the vampire’s amusement.

The pier was still there, along with its ferris wheel and other points of interest, but there was a ship moored to its extremity. Though “ship” seemed like a meaningless word. Monstrosity, perhaps. Big fuck-off floating thing, certainly. It rivaled the biggest container ships out there, and instead of shipping containers, a freaking Japanese-style castle stood on top of it. Janet regretted not being a graduate in marine engineering just to fully grasp how impossible it was. If aircraft carriers were the fortresses of the sea, that thing was the fucking Death Star. She had seen her share of impossible things since her landing, but none could match that behemoth in sheer scale. It utterly dwarfed the pier.

Lilith chuckled.

“Now I can tell you about Ryûjin.”

I should warn you, by the way. He’s not exactly an excellent dude most of the time, but he’s a straight monster to Changelings. Even I feel sorry for them, and I like them the way I like mosquitoes—as dead as fucking possible.

“Here’s what we know about the bloke.” Lilith began as they faced the gigantic vessel. “He speaks English, but he definitely comes from the Land of the Rising Sun. One day, not a month after Nightmare hit LA, he showed up with that humongous ship of his. He took control of Santa Monica pretty much immediately.”

“And how did he do it, exactly?” Wondered Janet.

“Well, at first the people wanted nothing to do with that weird Japanese guy with white hair, but then he stood up against the freaking Aspect of Lust and won. Turned out he’s the dog’s bollocks at Dreamshaping. There are several things one can Dreamshape, and everybody has a domain he’s naturally better at, but Ryûjin rules at the most difficult of them—altering other people’s bodies. He just up and set the Aspect on fire and laughed like a madman doing it.”

“Wow. And he’s not an Aspect himself or anything?”

“Nope. He isn’t even a Changeling. He’s not that far from being one, but he’s still in control. Anyway, after making ol’ Lusty look like a right tit, he took it upon himself to turn Santa Monica into a giant middle finger adressed to her. A second palace of sin. Several famous girls disagreed. They didn’t get to keep their minds.”

Janet gulped. She didn’t even know what that guy looked like, but she didn’t need it to determine they were dealing with one serious mofo. It wasn’t like hot-blooded Americans would let themselves be ruled by a Jap just because he humiliated an Aspect. Asian men had a tendency to not be taken seriously ’round those parts.

“And so...why did you get us closer to his ship exactly?”

“As long as a girl doesn’t break the violence law, she can strut as close to the Sekigahara as she wants.” Explained Lilith. “Before Master saved me, I even went inside to fuck some enslaved starlet I had a crush on.”

“So that ship’s name is the Sekigahara?”

“Yep. Named after some famous Japanese battle, I hear.”

“Is that so...” Janet blinked. “Waaaait wait wait. You’re a lesbian?!”

“Bisexual. Shocking for a vampire, I know. And before you ask, yes, you’re hot. Even more so in this tank top.”

Understandably troubled, the black woman looked away.

“I think I liked you better as a Stepford wife.”

“What can I say? Girl-on-girl pleases men. Anyway, let’s go. Just keep your gun down and you’ll be fine.”

“I fucking wish I could guarantee that.”

And so they went.

Walking along the beach, behemoth of a ship nothwithstanding, was indeed a welcome respite from the ambiant misogyny. Not that the situation was any better on the sand, but it did come across as a lot more normal. After all, if you didn’t act at least a little slutty on the beach, what were you even doing here? Still weirded out by Lilith’s compliment, Janet herself fleetingly looked at some sexy guys. As white as her upbringing was, her preferred brand of man was definitely brother. After all, her boyfriend Shane over at the CIA was very black, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. She wouldn’t dare cheat on him while on a mission, of course, but glancing at the black guys reminded her a little of home.

Nothing much happened for a while, even after they walked through the small tunnel under the pier. Sexy people partying and swimming everywhere. As apalling as the underlying misogyny was, the result wasn’t Pulitzer prize worthy.

“Ahem...Lilith? Have you ever seen that Ryûjin guy in person?”

“Heavens no. I know my current self could control herself without trouble, but I’m not tickling the dragon’s tail anytime soon. I only know the hearsay. Thirty-something, buffed, white hair and a strangely undefined, kinda shapeshifting Dreamer form.”

“Shapeshifting? That’s a new one.”

“He’s way too dangerous to approach for us to know exactly what his deal is, but apparently, he looks normal right up until the point where sharp pieces break off his body and fly around.”

“Great. Looks like I won’t be getting jaded with this clusterfuck anytime soon.” Sighed Janet. “Still, I guess it is kind of a relief to know there are Dreamers able to keep the Aspects at bay.”

A bitter laugh escaped Lilith’s lips.

“Don’t get too hopeful, Janet. Lusty’s a seductress, Ryûjin, an archmage. Of course she can’t win in a direct confrontation. Toss Pride in the Sekigahara, on the other hand, and the ship sinks under a bloody hour. Good thing that crazy actor is too busy fancying himself as a superhero. He’s convinced Washington wants to nuke us.”

“Crazy, right?” Replied Janet, rolling her eyes.

“Well, at least that keeps him off our hands. And it’s not like Lusty’s powerless. You might not fall into Nightmare naturally in Santa Monica, but that doesn’t mean she can’t push some people over the edge. For now, the Jap is able to control the growing Changeling population with his crazy Dreamshaping prowess, but even he can’t pummel those monsters into submission forever.”

The operative stroked her chin. Yes, for all the Aspect’s shortcomings in the direct confrontation department, she couldn’t lose sight of the fact she was immensely powerful in other domains...

“Yeah, figures she’d get back at Ryûjin from the shadows.”

“Right. Her hand in this is subtle, no doubt. Like she’ll appear in a cloud of smoke, sing in the distance, beckon you like some kind of pornographic Cheshire cat, the like. One moment you’re partying without a care in the world, and the next, you saw untold delight in the bottom of your glass and fall prey to desires you didn’t even know you had. Never underestimate that floozy. She’s downright wicked at corrupting peop...”

The cute vampire stopped dead in her tracks.

“...Oh, bollocks.”

“What?”

“Look ahead.”

Janet couldn’t see anything. She could guess pretty quickly, however, that it was precisely the problem. From about thirty meters ahead, the neverending party suddenly stops. And then, behind a seemingly arbitrary line, there were no partygoers. No stragglers. Nobody.

“Okay, what’s this now?”

“Well, like I told you, what you see in the Dreamscape isn’t necessarily what you get...But that’s one bugger of an obfuscation. Something’s going on...and I think I know what. If I’m right, something dangerous’s going to happen. We need to blend in.”

The blonde went to a vacant spot in the beach’s populated area. In the midst of drinking jocks and giggling bimbos, their revealing clothing made them both look like vapid sex toys by association. Lilith dreamed up a big enough beach towel for them both, with a delightful floral pattern. Janet cringed and imitated her, only managing to create a small and plain towel. She didn’t seem to mind.

“Oh, come on!” Protested Lilith. “I’m not hitting on you! Rah, never mind. Just keep looking at the deserted area. Try to empty your mind, shed preconceptions, this kind of stuff.”

“Alright, enlightenement coming right up.”

As cheesy as it sounded, Janet did saw something. A mere flicker, short enough to be entirely dismissed by an unprepared eye, and definitely not long enough to clearly identify. But there was something...And it spanned the beach’s entire width.

“Are you seeing a lot of big blokes?” Asked the bloodsucker.

“Not sure, but it could have been that, y...”

The “yeah” died in her mouth. Lilith had opened her third eye. By that point, Janet had taken in her fill of strange people, but they all obeyed one simple theme—Succubus, bunny girl, demon, fire-haired. She herself appeared fated to become a humanoid plant. In comparison, Lilith just seemed uniquely bizarre. She was an admitted vampire, and yet she didn’t seem to need any blood. She was just a frail girl with pale skin, long canines, and three eyes. What the hell kind of desire did this correspond to?

“As I thought. The enslaved Changelings are trying an uprising again.” Explained Lilith, nervous.

“Right in the way to the Palisades, of fucking course.”

“We can’t help it. This kind of situation always ends up with a witch hunt. We can’t do anything except look like just two other sluts in the crowd, okay? Blend. In.”

Not entirely sure of what was going on, Janet attempted to see through the obfuscation once again. Hearing Lilith explain the situation must have helped, because after two blinks, the invisible crowd appeared to her clear as day.

Up until that point, she had seen exactly two Changelings. The four-armed colossus, and the Aspect of Lust. Only two examples of the end result of Nightmare, and yet she heard about them all the damn time. The threat didn’t exactly look pressing...Right up until that point.

As Lilith put it, there were a lot of big blokes. Red skinned. Blue skinned. Normal skinned. Six armed. Four armed. Normal armed. All too big to stand in a standard apartment.

“Shiiiit. Are all Changelings giants?”

“No. Ogres are just the ones meatheaded enough to believe they can beat Ryûjin. You’re certainly not going to find a beastkin uprising.”

It certainly explained why Janet got a distinctly stupid vibe from them. One black-skinned giant was giving some kind of speech, and yet part of the attendance was fighting. It didn’t seem to be related, or indirectly so. The orator’s address was muffled, but Janet could make out words like “freedom” or “Aspect”. The attendance seemed ready to storm the Sekigahara.

And then, suddenly, the illusion was dispelled. The whole assembly came into plain sight. The partygoers around her turned their heads and gasped. At first, the operative thought it was the ogres’ cue to begin the assault, but that thought was quickly silenced when she saw their reaction.

Utter terror.

“I told you so!” Shrieked a deep female voice.

“Don’t panic!” Yelled the instigator. “Hold the line! You are Queen Draconia’s chosen, not pets!”

The giants moved into a hapazard formation, shaking yet determined. “Freedom!” They shouted. The shallow fuckers around Janet, meanwhile, got up and...began a slow clap? She saw Lilith begin to imitate them, so she quickly did as well.

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, it has to be him. Shite, I could have lived without seeing that lunatic in person.”

And so he appeared, walking through the sexy crowd. Ryûjin. He certainly wasn’t your stereotypical nerdy Japanese guy. His short white hair was easily the most striking thing about him, but everything from his build to the way he walked screamed top of the world. He was no bodybuilder, but he was fairly tall and imposing. He wore some weird, predominantly black clothing—some sort of mix between a tuxedo and a trench coat complete with shoulder pads. And, like Lilith had said, he did not appear warped by the Dreamscape at all.

“Seriously?” He said in a surprisingly soft, but unsurprisingly Japanese accented voice. “Right on my doorstep? Who’s responsible for this?”

The blue-skinned giant bellowed.

“I am! How could I stand up to a mere Dreamer enslaving my people?! You will”

Right there, in the middle of his sentence, the giant froze up. Ryûjin pinched the bridge of his nose.

“That was a rhetorical question, you stupid fuck.”

He clenched his fist, and a ray of light shot out of the ringleader’s mouth. His body still didn’t move, but his face contorted in a silent, yet hellish scream that sent shivers down Janet’s spine.

“I grow tired of you impressionable meatheads.” Sermoned Ryûjin. “One of you is influenced by the Aspect of Lust and the whole basket’s spoiled. Thank God some of you still have heads on your shoulders. Non-retards, step forward.”

The few Changelings who fought the others earlier rushed out of the crowd and knelt. The Asian wasn’t exactly impressed—his sights were very much set on the mutiny. For a moment, it seemed like he would address the rebels some more, but he instead elected to sigh. Janet would have expected the insurgents to attack, yet they were all frozen in fear. Not so surprising for the foreigner who put Santa Monica under his heel, but just how powerful was this guy?

For a while, he just seemed to think about how he would punish the uprising. The air was tense enough to need a massage, yet...Janet felt a strange sense of calm. Like someone in the scene was all but nonplussed. Was it from the partygoers? Not likely—they were all pretty much rooting for the whoop-ass of the century. It clearly didn’t come from the Changelings either.

“Lilith?” Whispered Janet.

“Not now.” Responded the vampire in kind.

“Someone’s obfuscating.”

“What? Ryûjin’s forcing everyone to be on the same plane of perception!”

“Not everyone. Can’t you feel this...I don’t know, calmness?”

“...Yeah, I can, but it’s not bloody relevant right now! Shut up before you get us spotted!”

Thankfully, Ryûjin was too busy thinking. A good ten seconds elapsed before he threw his hands in down.

“Are you being fucking serious? You went and prepared an insurgency and now you’re just standing there pissing yourself? Stupid and cowardly. What a delightful combination!”

Silence.

“What are you fucking waiting for, you weak-willed morons?!” Yelled the white-haired dictator. “Come on! You already fucked up, try to at least deserve the Hell I’m going to put you through! Kick. My. ASS!”

Some in the crowd wanted to. Badly. Reclaim their lost pride before it flew away again. But every time it seemed one of the giants would take the plunge, seize the moment...They would begin to tremble, hit by some unspeakable memory.

“Pathetic.”

With a roar, Ryûjin punched his fists together, and the shellshocked ogres got frozen just like the ringleader. And...that was kinda it. They couldn’t muster the courage to even put their rebellion into high gear, and now they couldn’t.

“One month like this for every last one of you. And yes, the instigator gets his insides melted the whole damn time. Don’t. Waste. My fucking time again.”

That guy had some serious anger management issues on top of his views on women, thought Janet. But there was no denying that pissing him off made Achille’s treatment of Hector look like a gentle foot massage. The poor ringleader...If Hell was any worse than this, the universe would fold onto itself under the sheer weight of malevolence. And yet...the partygoers were cheering. They watched this man turn a platoon of big-ass Changelings into cowering infants by his very presence. They saw him engaging in torture...And they were stoked as hell.

Janet didn’t know exactly what to think of this...But was pretty sure it was one story she wouldn’t tell her grandkids. Yet, a silver lining showed up, in the form of one conversation directly to her left.

“Man, Lord Ryûjin’s pissed today.” Observed a scaled-skinned surfer.

“Word.” Answered a sexy brotha. “He’s way more playful usually...I mean, he’s always got time for wasting Aspect thralls.”

“I know, right? Weird.”

To her right, she heard Lilith let out an interested “Hm.”

“Did you hear that? Seems like that bloke’s even more of a psycho that usual.”

“Yeah, I heard. Doesn’t concern us though. We’ll just wait for the situation to calm down and walk past the giants.”

“Can’t argue with that plan.”

Apparently satisfied, Santa Monica’s dictator commanded the Changelings that submitted to follow him, then turned around and began to walk back to his ship, still under thunderous applause. But just as he walked past Janet and Lilith...He stopped.

And gave a hate-filled glare in their direction. Janet’s heart skipped a beat. What the hell? Did he hear them or something? Why would he care? Whatever the explanation was, he pointed straight at them, and, with a tone of utter contempt, told to his Changeling followers...

“Bring those two to the Sekigahara. Stat.”