The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The sound of furious heels clicking in the darkness echoed through the catacombs of Gehymnis Academy. It was nighttime again, and the hour of nightmares was at hand. Jocasta, the once proud leader of the Amazonian Guard who had sworn to protect its supernatural denizens from dangerous influences of the outside world, knew it all too well, and every time she tried to forget the pain in order to rise above it, it returned ten times fold or more, a living torment etched in her mind, her captors hoped to be eternal.

It had been four weeks since she had walked right into the Headmistress’ trap and had her brain ransacked by unnatural sound waves. Four long weeks of suffering at the hands of her replacement, the Atlantean Descendant, Delandra, a bitch who held too many grudges and never let a single one of them go, and while the other members of The Lustful Twelve had all had their share of sadistic fun at her expense, she was the worst, forever unsatisfied such was her thirst for blood and desire to watch the world burn.

Before being a prestigious teaching institution, Gehymnis Academy once served as both tribunal and prison for otherworldly offenders. Underneath the organized corridors of classrooms in the upper floors, sprawled a labyrinth of jail cells and torture chambers every living person associated with the institution desperately tried to pretend wasn’t real. They had been out of commission for so long that they were as good as forgotten but Abigail had secretly opened one section after accepting the position, just in case “enemies needed to be silenced on short notice”, and she had kept that promise to herself.

During her month of captivity, Jocasta had been broken and rebuilt many times but, despite what seemed to be an impossible situation at first, her mental faculties hadn’t disappeared completely. Being stripped of her insignia and having her body reduced to a reddish pulp at the hands and strap-ons of her foes had only strengthened her resolve. She would reclaim everything that was hers and set the Academy on the right track again no matter the sacrifice but first, she needed to escape.

It was hardly an easy task. The magic of Hephaestus coursed through the chains that bound her to the damp wall of the dungeon, rendering her weak. The Greek smithing god had forged all the Amazon’s weapons in times immemorial but also the instruments to keep them restrained should the necessity arise. There were no accounts of anyone breaking free from them. If she were to succeed somehow, she would, in fact, be rewriting History.

Since breaking the links was out of the question without a weapon forged from the same material, whenever she was alone, Jocasta focused her remaining energies on a different approach. If she could pull hard enough to dislodge a section of the wall, gravity would do the rest of the work for her and, even though there was a distinct possibility her efforts could bring about a cave-in that would bury her alive, such a death was merciful compared to what Delandra wanted to do with her.

The Amazon was straining her muscles once again when she heard her nemesis approach. The Atlantean girl, with a siren’s voice and a sensual body to match, emerged from the shadows to her right, dressed to kill. The black PVC mini-dress and matching thigh-high boots wouldn’t look out of a place in an intense BDSM scene but she was no real Mistress, just a spoiled brat born with too much power. She held an oiled leather flogger in her right hand and a silver remote with a single circular button on the other. It was used to activate the two rows of sonic emitters placed above their heads.

“I see you’re already awake. Good.” She hissed. “It saves me the trouble of having to do it myself. I hope you’re ready to entertain me again.”

“Your idea of entertainment is a far cry from mine, Delandra. Why don’t you crawl back inside the underwater trench from which your kind spawned?”

“Ah, feeling defiant again tonight...” The supernatural creature replied. “You never knew when to quit, but you can have your moment of rage. Make the best of that viperine tongue of yours before I trash it and force you to beg.”

“Do whatever you wish, but I will never be your slave!”

“You already are. You’re never getting out of here, Jo. No one is coming to rescue you.”

“My sisters... I know you haven’t rounded them all.”

“That may be true, but we’re getting closer and closer to our goal, every day. Even today, we captured two more, including your precious Elinne. The numbers of the resistance are thinning. Soon, we’ll wipe it out, and Gehymnis will be ours forever.”

“Liar.”

“I’m many things, but you know that’s not one of them. Perk your ears, Jo, and you may actually hear her scream as we speak.”

Jocasta ignored her provocations but not the other sounds all around. An anguished cry bled through the rocks, followed by another, and another, and another...

“You filthy bitch!”

“Right back at you.” Delandra pushed the remote’s button and an explosion of agony reverberated through the Amazon’s bones.

Meanwhile, about thirty miles east of the outside perimeter of Gehymnis Academy, a young woman blessed with the gift of Sight, kneeled inside a cave protected by ancient sigils. Gaze transfixed on an unknown point beyond reality, she peered through veils of darkness and confusion, tears rolling down her aquamarine eyes. Her name was Faene, daughter of Febe, and she was Jocasta’s third degree cousin on her mother’s side.

Unlike most of her sisters and companions, Faene stood only at six feet one, and was often laughed at for her tiny stature. Her dark Titian hair wasn’t strong enough for the traditional braids, so she kept it short. Her hands were covered in natural scars, narrow threads of silver against her warm ivory skin. The twenty-year-old rebel was strong and outspoken, never fearing to say anything out of line. She wasn’t alone.

The two other women sitting next to her by a crackling fire, their once resplendent armors now covered in mud, were Iona, former third in the Guard’s hierarchy, and Jezebel, the oldest one still at the service of the Institution. Because of their extreme longevity, no one knew for sure her real age, though she often joked about events dating back to the 14th century. Her hair was gray and her face a map of rugged wrinkles, yet she was still quite spry.

The three were part of a dwindling group of fighters that had been trying to reclaim Gehymnis since Headmistress Abigail’s coup. Forced to flee the magic grounds when the Guard was disbanded, they had promoted small guerrilla interventions ever since, testing the new defenses and protocols designed to keep the Academy in lockdown. Natural formations such as the one they were in served as makeshift bases of operations for their incursions, none of which had produced any significant results. With the major lines of communications cut off, they counted more losses than wins, and patience was running thin among the remaining ranks.

“What do you see, child?” The elder asked, an improvised wooden pipe on her right hand. Dried tobacco leaves had always been her greatest temptation, one she didn’t even try to resist anymore.

“We need to go back to Gehymnis.” Faene closed her eyes and wiped the ice crystals that had formed on her lips. “The sooner, the better.”

“That’s what you always say and every time we listen to you, things get worse!” Iona retorted, her natural predisposition for anger, spiraling out of control. “I just got word that Elinne was taken as well. Are you trying to get us all killed?”

“I’m trying to save Gehymnis! Didn’t we all swear to protect it, even at the expense of our lives?”

“We did, though it seems some of us need a reminder of our oath.” Jezebel noted, glancing at the hot-headed warrior. “Why do you blame the seer? This is not her fault.”

“Are you saying it’s mine, old geezer?” Iona drew her sword, fiery reflections bouncing off the recently sharpened blade.

“I’m saying we all need to take a good look at what’s happening and how we can make things work again. Division will always fail us. That’s what the Headmistress and the Twelve want. We can’t give them that satisfaction.”

“Exactly, and that’s why we need to go back!” Faene insisted, warming her shivering hands on the fire. Using her gifts always took a toll on her body heat, almost as if the limbo between worlds and the countless possibilities had sapped all energy from her.

“Are out of your fucking mind?” Iona retorted. “Go back for what? As much as I would love to kick those sea bitches back into the ocean, we’ve tried so many times already and for what? Face it, our numbers are too small. We can’t do shit!”

“Yes, we can. Our recent defeat is our greatest strength right now. They will not be expecting another assault so soon. With the element of surprise on our side, we may just turn the tide on our favor.”

“May? I’m going to need more than an optimistic remark before I ask the others to risk their lives again. Did you actually see us be successful this time?”

“You know this is not how this works, but the possibility is there. Let’s seize it.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes!”

“No. It’s too risky.”

“Are you giving up then?” Jezebel intervened. “Do you really want to leave Jocasta and the others to their fate? What about all the other students and teachers? And the mortal world? What do you think is going to happen to them if the Twelve’s corruption continues to spread?”

“Mortals are not our problem. If the roles were reversed, they would never come to our aid, but would rather see us all dead instead. Why should we care?”

“You were always one of little faith, but it’s not too late for you. I’m with Faene. I say we take a leap of faith. We should aim for a pinpoint strike and get Jo out. If she’s free, her natural leadership will inspire others.”

“And we may find additional allies inside as well.” Faene concluded. “We’re not the only ones that hate the Twelve.”

That was true, Iona reluctantly nodded. Neither the Sombra vampire clan or the South American shape-shifters were on good terms with the Atlanteans, but they weren’t the most trustworthy of companions either. Any pact forged with them would always carry with it the promise of a genuine bloodbath if things went south, and she wasn’t ready to go down that route unless they were on the verge of the Apocalypse.

“I’m sorry, but my answer is still no. We’re outnumbered and outgunned. What we need now is to rest and recover our strength. We can talk about this again once our scouts return from the northern bunkers.”

“You’re making a mistake. By then, it will probably be too late.” Faene sighed, though she wasn’t sure that would be the case or not. Her visions were always confusing, like loose strings hanging from a giant tapestry. Sometimes, she would pull one and it would break without changing the status quo but, in other occasions, just a twitch was enough to unravel the whole pattern. The ones she had seen all ended with premature and excruciating death.

“You’re not a real warrior like the rest of us, so forgive me if I don’t take your strategic advice seriously. With both Jo and Elinne out of commission, I call the shots, not you.” Iona sheathed her blade and looked at Jezebel’s sunken eyes. “And don’t you dare say anything else to the contrary, old woman. Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

“Where are you going?” Faene queried, visibly discontent.

“Hunting. I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of eating wild rabbit. See you later.” She headed for the cave’s exit. Once out, the wardens keeping her safe from prying eyes would be gone, but she was quick-footed and a skilled swords woman, capable of coming out on top even on a one-on-six (or more) combat scenario.

“By Athena, I hate this!” Faene cursed herself. “Why does she not heed my warnings?”

“Because she’s afraid, my dear.” Jezebel responded, laying a hand on her weary shoulder.

“How can she be afraid when she’s always been one of the strongest persons I know?”

“Iona always wanted to be in charge ever since she was a child but not the burden of responsibility that comes with it. Now that she has it, it’s difficult for her to weigh everything down. Physical strength and mental fortitude are not one and the same, you should know that.”

“You sounded like my mother talking just now.” Faene smiled, shyly. A hint of color was returning to her cheeks, but the specter of the third eye still lingered between them.

“Febe was a wise woman. You and her are more alike than you think.”

Was. The past-tense form that always reminded Faene of her greatest loss in life. While the Amazonian genetic build kept them safe from most of the maledictions of the normal world, rare cases of degenerative disease still plagued them. Febe’s descent into personal hell had been gut-wrenching, and if she were to suffer the same fate...

“Iona is right about one thing. I’m no warrior but I can’t just sit here and not do a thing. Not tonight.”

“What’s so important about tonight? What else did you see, child?”

“I... I don’t know how to explain it...” She began, glimpses of more than likely outcomes flashing before her eyes... “... there was a massive storm above the Academy, and it was raining blood. It was hers. I think Jocasta will die tonight unless we tempt Fate.”

“It’s never a good thing to play dice with the Moirai. They’re cosmic cheaters, and that will never change.”

“I still need to try...”

“... but you would prefer not to go alone.” The older woman concluded.

“Why are you always so perceptive, Jezebel? You don’t have the gift.”

“It’s called ‘life experience’. I’ve had centuries under my belt, sweetie, more than enough to pick up a thing or two. Should you really wish it, I’m yours to command in this enterprise but... do you have a plan or are you just going to wing it and hope everything works for the best?”

“I was thinking we could take the old drainage tunnels by the west wing and, once inside, make our way to the catacombs. It’s the only place where she can be.”

“Hmmm... I suppose you’re right, but are you sure about this?”

“Yes.”

“Then we should get a move on before Iona comes back or we may not have another chance. Get your things ready.”

“Way ahead of you.” The young seer noted, only realizing far too late the irony of what she had just said. Under a dry blanket to the left of the fire, she kept a worn-out satchel with healing herbs, an embroidered waterproof green cloak, and a parazonium, a long triangular dagger, wide at the hilt end and coming to a point. It belonged to her mother. The pommel cap displayed a unique representation of a phoenix rising from the ashes, a second chance in life they sure would need if they had any hopes of succeeding. “I hope I don’t need to use it, but...”

“Better safe than sorry, I agree, though I think you’re forgetting something.” Jezebel produced a handful of charred rabbit hind legs and saddles. “We’re still a long way from Gehymnis. You can’t rescue anyone with an empty stomach, can you?”

Smiling for the first time since she had awakened from trance, Faene snatched a piece of meat and gnawed it as she looked into the dark woods outside. Beyond the sanctity of their refuge, billowing clouds gathered. The fight for the very survival of what Gehymnis Academy stood for was one lightning strike away.

The two Amazons crouched between verdant bushes as close to the Academy’s perimeter as possible without risking being spotted by prying eyes. In her right hand, Faene held a pair of silver binoculars whose lenses were embellished by sparkling grains of sand from the beaches of Themyscira. Rumor had it that anyone seeing through them could discern fluctuations of magic in the mortal realm and the next, but that wasn’t true. Only those with the gift from birth were blessed with such knowledge, and she was putting it to use.

The complex looked unaltered since they had been forced to flee, save for one thing. Spiraling purple filaments intertwined all around, creating a sinister-looking dome that made her shudder.

“This is new.” She said.

The warrior crouching next to her spat a rabbit bone and asked:

“What are you seeing?”

“Some sort of magic web, but it’s... dripping. It’s like purple blood. I don’t know what it is.”

“I think I do.” Jezebel’s head peeked above their natural cover. “And if I’m right, its not new, but old. Way older than Gehymnis.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dark Atlantean magic. A cage. Everyone’s a prisoner and they don’t even know it.”

“Do you know how we can break through?”

“Normally, I would say we can’t as these types of rituals are too strong but we do have an advantage. Delandra and her minions are only half-Atlanteans, and that means their spells are more prone to failure. Look closely, Faene. You might spot some ripples in the web. Those are the points where the incantation is weakest. Find me a gap wide enough for my blade and I’ll take care of the rest.”

Faene resumed her observation, scouring the main building from top to bottom and then moving to the right. The entrance to the old drainage tunnels was barely visible and yet offered a glimmer of hope she would not let go to waste.

“Athena be praised!” She suddenly exclaimed.

“You found something?”

“Yes. It’s just like you said, there are two ripples about half a mile east, one of them right where we need to be.”

“That’s convenient. Ready to do this?”

“Yes. Let’s go.”

They dashed over a slope past the threshold of security, knowing that if they were caught, it would be all over. Faene was quick on her feet, but Jezebel was even faster despite her age. The young woman had never believed the tales of her companion single-handedly defeating a pack of rogue werewolves before she was born but, seeing her leap so graciously she could even dodge drops of rain made her reconsider.

“Ten meters ahead, about twenty degrees to the right. “ She said.

“On it.” The warrior jumped forward, sword hilt face up. Tendrils of magic wrapped around it as she pushed through, creating a temporary gap for her gifted friend. Faene rolled to the right down a small depression that led to the drainage system. A white searchlight almost grazed her wet clothes before resuming its normal rounds. They were in the clear.

“That wasn’t so bad...” She said.

“No, it wasn’t.” Jezebel ran next to her. “If anything, it felt too easy. We need to be extra careful from now on. I don’t like this.”

“Okay.”

Along with the catacombs, the drainage tunnels were the only remaining portions of the first incarnation of Gehymnis. Once comprising a series of twelve man-sized exits and a myriad of intersections running across the entire compound, only but one hadn’t been sealed off following the 18th Century reconversion. The entrance was covered in moss and pointy rocks, and a foul stench permeated the air. Faene covered her mouth and nose with a small cloth and crawled right through, with Jezebel right on her tail.

About one hundred feet ahead, the passageway opened up to a large circular gallery with two branching paths. Built by supernatural slave labor, one was the former main sewage canal that stretched across countless miles all the way to the nearest ocean. The other was a winding dark corridor that led to the catacombs and all the dark memories within.

Ever since she was a child, Faene had avoided going there. For someone as sensitive as her, the lingering spirits and the regret they carried with them could be exceedingly dangerous if not downright fatal but, in the grand scheme of things, her life wasn’t important. Only Jocasta could save Gehymnis from its impending doom. It was an honor like no other to assist in that.

Impressions of long forgotten faces lurked in the glistening rocks. They slithered like incorporeal snakes, trying to wrap their evil coils around her radiant energy and thus exact revenge against the living that had done them wrong. She tried to ignore them, but they were always there, hungry for a name of power that could give them real substance.

“Are you all right?” Jezebel asked when she saw her standing like a shivering statue in front of the path they were to take.

“No. This place is... Why there were so many atrocities committed here?”

“Different times, different mentalities. Every world’s history is written in blood. Ours is no different.”

“They’re trying to tell me things...”

“They?”

“The specters that never left. They want me to see everything that was done to them time and time again. It hurts!”

“Only if you let it. Dead is dead, child. They can’t hurt you if you don’t listen to them. Clear your thoughts and they’ll go away, I promise.”

“I’ll try.” Faene took a deep breath and closed her eyes, the two of her body and the singular one of her peculiar mind. A blanket of nothingness filled her heart, and the angry spirits cowered and fled. Only the future mattered and she was walking towards it.

Jezebel smiled as she watched her conquer her fears. She really liked that girl. Her innocence reminded her of everything she could never be. The true code of the Amazonian Guard was to fight for all that was pure and there was no better definition than that than a young woman with next to none warrior prowess but a heart the size of the universe. Holding her right hand, she helped her navigate the meandering path of desperation.

They walked for ten minutes until they found the connecting corridor to the underground cells. During that time, Jezebel’s uneasiness hadn’t dissipated, instead growing ten times more. The last breaching attempts had all been met with tremendous resistance. Even with the element of surprise at their side, their almost hitch-free incursion was suspicious. She drew her blade and looked for hidden foes everywhere.

She found none, but horror awaited them, anyway. In the first cell they encountered, half a dozen of their sisters laid naked on the jagged terrain, eyes rolled behind their sockets, ravenous tongues lapping at their tight hairy pussies. Completely oblivious to the fact they were being watched, The prisoners saw and heard nothing other than their own mind-numbing cravings of endless ecstasy and submission.

“Adrasteia! Callidora! Elisavet! By the Old Gods, why are you...?” Faene gasped before immediately looking the other way.

“They’ve obviously been corrupted already. Don’t waste your breath, girl. They won’t snap out of it so easily.” Jezebel grabbed a torch and pointed to another ramification to the right. “Let’s go before anyone notices we’re down here.”

Faene followed her lead, the images of lesbian depravity accompanying her all the way. The Twelve’s power of seduction had never overcome the superior Amazonian’s genetic constitution, and yet now they mocked them at will by turning fierce warriors into mindless lesbian drones.

The following cell held another group of brainwashed toys, except these were more interested in licking each other’s asses. Somewhere in the nether regions where death reigns eternal, the disembodied phantoms of tortures past laughed.

“Stop!” Jezebel closed her right fist as she sensed movement ahead. It was one of the Atlanteans, a redhead bitch with too much make-up on whose name she couldn’t remember. She stood in front of a half-open wooden door, holding a black collar and leash. Past her were three more former guards fighting among themselves to see who would be the lucky one to go out for a short walk that night.

“You bitches are hilarious!” The redhead chuckled and continued to watch their debasement.

“Can I knock her out?” Faene mumbled.

“You’ll do no such thing, you hear? Just let her go so we can continue.”

The redhead finally decided on which pet she would grace with her control and walked away while the other two sulked and whined.

Jezebel and Faene continued exploring the underground maze. A couple of minutes and one close call later, they finally reached Jocasta’s prison. Unlike what would be expected, there were no more guards around, and even the front door was unlocked as if awaiting their arrival. The new impossibility made the hair on the back of the older warrior’s neck stand up.

“There’s something horribly wrong, here. Faene. Can’t you feel it?”

“Yes, but we’ve come all this way... Please keep watch, okay?”

“Will do, child, but be careful in there?

Faene stepped inside and immediately flinched. The otherworldly energies that called out to her were at their maximum strength there, gathering around the chained prisoner. The right side of Jocasta’s face was covered in reddish bruises, clotted blood coming out of her ears.

“Jo? Oh, I’m so glad you’re still alive!” The younger woman cried out as she reached for her.

“Fae?” Jocasta muttered, warm saliva dripping out of her lower lip. Other than her late mother Febe, no one else called her by that name. “ What...? How...? You shouldn’t be here! Are you insane?”

“I had a vision and knew I had to come.” Faene looked at the mighty chains restraining her friend and then at the technological travesty above it.

“How did you get here? The Academy is under siege, you...”

“I struck while the iron was hot, catching them off-guard. The Goddesses have been blessing us!”

“Us? Who else is here with you? Iona? Kynthia?”

“Just Jezebel.”

“Oh, that old coot! What was she thinking going along with your madness? I love you, Fae, but you must get out of here, now! It’s not safe!”

“Stop right there! I’m not leaving without you!”

“You must! If Delandra gets hold of your skills, it will only make things worse! Do you want to end up as one of her mindfucked cohorts? Just go, please! Tell everyone to keep fighting but leave me be. I’ll hold on for as long as I can, but you must never come back here again!”

“No!” Faene growled. “What good are my gifts for if I can’t use them to save those I care about? We need you, Jo! Gehymnis needs you! What I’ve seen makes no sense without you. You’re the key and you’re getting out of here with us tonight!”

Jocasta pushed against the magical chains once more, another futile attempt at defying the unbridled powers of the Old World. “I’m still your commanding officer and I’m ordering you to go! Please!”

“I promise to obey all your commands again once we’re free, but for now, I need you to trust me.”

“Stubborn as always... just like your mother!”

“Thank you for the compliment. Let’s get you out of these.”

“You can’t... Not unless you brought a Hephaestus forged blade with you.”

“She didn’t, but I always come prepared. Hey, Jo. Sorry to be the one to say this, but you look like shit.” Jezebel rushed inside the chamber, unsheathed sword in hand.

“Nice to see you too, Jez, but don’t think for a moment you’re off the hook for what you helped pull off! Letting her come here? Really?”

“Would you have preferred if she had come alone?” The older Amazon held the weapon above her head and struck at the powerful links, blue sparks flying everywhere. “Because that’s what would have happened if I hadn’t volunteered.”

“I promised her mother I would keep her safe!”

“And I made the same promise, so let’s make sure we both keep our end of the bargain.” She brandished the sword again, slicing one chain in two. “I’ve been smelling a rat since we got here and, honestly, I’m tired of it.”

“The only rats I see scurrying around here are you two.” Delandra’s ominous voice echoed in the cavernous walls. “How dare you run around my Academy as if you still own the place? You don’t! Not any more! Gehymnis is mine, and the only good Amazon is an enslaved and obedient one. I knew that if I purposively let down the guard, you would come barging in. Thank you for saving me the trouble of rounding more pets on my own.”

“Fuck!” Jocasta used her free arm to stand up. “Jezebel, hurry! Give me that sword before...”

A wall of infernal sound silenced her and her rescuers, thundering waves pushing them to the ground at the same time. The elder warrior was hit the hardest, each rebound pressing against her skin as if it had the strength of a herd of rampaging elephants. Bones cracked.

Faene let out a barely audible yelp as a part of her brain froze. The Atlanteans’ seductive frequency amplified by the mechanical enhancements of Headmistress Abigail was the closest thing to hell she could imagine, and it was rapidly dragging her down into the abyss.

“This is not what I saw...” She pressed her hands against her ears, trying to stop the ringing barrage from liquefying her brain.

“Hold on, Fae!” Jocasta drew one last ounce of strength to pick up the sword from Jezebel’s broken hand and send it flying against the sonic emitters. If she could just break one...

The blade executed a perfect upward trajectory as if it were being guided by divine hands only to stop mere inches from its noble goal and fall helpless to the ground just like their hopes of escape. Delandra cackled as she walked inside the dungeon, followed by all of her underlings, twelve that were one.

“A futile attempt, just like all the ones you’ve thrown at us so far...” She said. “Your foolishness really knows no bounds.”

Jezebel writhed in utter pain. “Please, stop! You’re killing her!” Jocasta screamed.

“Interesting... all defiant when you’re alone, but as soon as you see one of your own in distress, you suddenly remember how to beg. Keep at it.”

“They’re innocent, okay? Let them be and you can do whatever the hell you want with me. I won’t fight back, I promise!”

“Oh, Jo... I can already do whatever I want with you and no one gives a shit! As amusing as your pleas are, they won’t deter me from doing what needs to be done.” She took a closer look at the two intruders. “The elder serves no real purpose, but this beauty here? Hmm, how much do you want to bet she’ll love being my personal footlicker while you watch?”

“No, stop! I...”

“You nothing. Demands are wasted on a slut like you! You’re no warrior, little one.” She addressed the whimpering Faene with her mesmeric tone. “So... what are you?”

“I’m... I’m... a...” She convulsed.

“... a babbling idiot? You sure look like one though things will be so much better once you think only what I want you to think.”

“I failed... It was all a lie...” Faene thought as her spirit sank into the first stage of a new state of mind where free will was a useless and outdated concept. A single tear rolled down her left cheek.

The timelines were converging. She screamed as all possible futures now showed her the same thing. The sonic tempest crushing her was unstoppable, as was the darkness of Atlantis. The flames of resistance would die out, and only mindless lust remain.