Icogny: An anti hypno corruption story.

The sound of my boots against the smooth, pink-lit stone echoed through the cavernous passages. It was the only noise I could hear, if you ignored the still-resonating moans and gasps of carnal pleasure from behind me.

I considered myself as heterosexual as one could be, and while I wouldn’t lie and say I wasn’t affected by the visuals and sounds that surrounded me, I knew better than to indulge in those fleeting, base instincts.

The royal “wives” and their twisted duty—reduced to nothing more than thralls—was a spectacle in itself. It should’ve been thrilling, in some sense, but the context rendered it utterly repulsive.

Those two... they were no longer anything like the women they once were. They were hollow, consumed by the illusion of love and pleasure. They had been remade, reshaped, into mindless breeding vessels, slaves to a force far beyond their control. The focal point of their affection had died long ago, replaced by a soulless, living mockery—a vessel of lust and nothing more.

And that... that was the truly terrifying part: the love they felt, the connection they believed in, was real. Their minds had been twisted so completely, so thoroughly, that they no longer knew the difference between reality and the lies they had been fed. A lie, repeated enough times, becomes the truth.

My fist clenched so tightly that the material of my gauntlets groaned under the pressure. My knuckles popped, a sharp crack that seemed to echo in the silence.

I punched the wall in frustration, the pain of the impact a small relief. I exhaled deeply, letting the anger burn away in slow, deliberate breaths.

There was nothing to be done now. I wouldn’t find allies here—not with the bastard Anon’s influence poisoning everything.

But this wouldn’t be for nothing. I still had a chance. The library and the vault—there could be something in there, something to help me in this crusade of mine.

And I would go to the place where Captain Shining Armor had tried to reach in his final moments, somewhere in the deep, deep of this mountain. The man deserved nothing less.

The vault was devoid of anything valuable or useful.

It was a disappointment, but ultimately, it wasn’t unexpected. The bastard had Twilight, Pinkie, and possibly Starlight by his side now.

Twilight and her junior were the most powerful and knowledgeable pair of unicorns in existence—except, of course, for the princesses of Sun and Moon, or Sunset Shimmer, if you wanted to get technical. And Pinkie? She was a wild card, as unpredictable and chaotic as they came. It was more than likely that any magical artifacts here had already been found, cataloged, repurposed, or destroyed.

All that was left were a few gold coins and some gems. I picked them up and stuffed them into my backpack. You never knew when you’d need some change.

The female guards barely spared me a glance as I entered and exited the vault. They were too absorbed in their 69.

With a sigh, I turned and made my way to the library.

The library, too, was a letdown—though not entirely.

Most of the books on magic, Changeling techniques like infiltration, seduction, and even excavation (for some reason), were either missing, shredded, or burned.

But there were a couple of interesting finds, if I could get past the numerous orgies and rutting bodies that littered the way.

First, there was an ancient scroll and tome. These appeared to be records of all the Queens before Chrysalis—detailing their history, ways, and customs. The tome was dusty, but surprisingly well-kept, suggesting it wasn’t used often, yet still kept up to date.

This was something Twilight or Starlight would be interested in, I was sure of it. Yet here it remained, hidden away in a secret alcove I noticed only when two male guards came tumbling down from a concealed door, locked in a passionate embrace, tongues in each other’s throats. Odd that they missed it, considering these two were perfectionists—paranoid, even—so their behavior was out of character.

Maybe Anon influence really change them more than than I thought.

The second thing I found was a peculiar chisel, glowing faintly green like the old Lumen crystals used to before they were tainted by Anon's dark magic. It had an inscription on it, one that resembled the patterns on Chrysalis's wings and her organic crown.

Context clues, along with a quick scan from my HUD, informed me that this chisel was used to carve and inscribe runes—no surprise, considering the only parchment I’d found was the scroll and tome of records. The rest of the books were clearly stolen.

I tucked the records into my backpack and holstered the chisel next to my gun, letting the subroutines in my armor analyze the energy in the crystal. Something told me this would come in handy sooner rather than later.

I gave the library one last sweep, but as the sex-fatigued Changelings began to stir, I decided it was time to leave. The last thing I needed was to get caught in the crossfire.

Finding myself once again in the dors to the throne room I hesitated, realistically speaking the only thing that could be the most inner chamber... Is the queen chambers.

But was I ready to just enter again that accursed please of carnal pleasure and false —yet true— love?

Fortunately I was saved to answer that question by an opportune appearance, as a changeling maid uniform (tear and stain with jizz and other kind of bodily fluids as it was) and all, waddle nearby in a lust haze I opted to be bold and approach her.

"Excuse me mam, but to where is the Queen bedchambers?".- I asked politely as I ignored the flood of male and female cum that came from both her holes, down her legs and to the floor.

She had left quite the trail by the look of it.

"Hum? Oh, just, just use the, the duct from the left and kept, keep goin down...".- She slurred like a drup up and, or perhaps, sloshed person while vaguely gesturing a dark hole in the wall next to the door, the movement causing the last of her top to give and leaving exposed her C cups to the cold air.

I ignored that and opted to searched with the look for holes in the walls next to the door and lo and behold there they ware.

If she didn't mention it i would have not notice it with the natural low glow of the Lumen crystals, if I would have use a light from my helm or my flashlight the "duct" would have been obvious but using such a harsh light would be both impolite and something of a bad idea.

"I see, thanks mam.".- I thanked her with a bow.

"Yu- Yu are well-well-CUM!".- She giggle at her own dirty joke, the funny enhance by her lust drunk mind, before continue her waddle down the corridor.

I could only sigh once again before venturing the Duct, remembering her instructions I took all the down options in the series of disorienting tunnels and rocky air vents.

It took less time than I expected to reach the bedroom.

In hindsight, that made sense—servants must be able to reach their master quickly, no matter where they are.

The ducts were confusing and disorienting, a labyrinth of spiraling rock. Without the maid's instructions, I might have been lost forever in their depths.

For all the opulence and arrogance the Queen might have possessed in the past, her quarters were surprisingly barren. Spartan, even.

A full-body mirror leaned against the wall, its once-polished surface marred by scratches. A crude-looking closet stood nearby, its doors slightly ajar. A small bookshelf sat in one corner, its shelves sparsely populated with worn tomes and loose scrolls. At the center of the room was a bed frame, its mattress conspicuously missing. I had a pretty good guess where that ended up.

The HUD in my visor confirmed the room was well-kept and surprisingly ventilated. The air was fresh—remarkably free of both dust and the suffocating, lust-maddening pheromones that pervaded the rest of the hive.

Yearning for a moment of relief, I pressed a hidden button near my collar. With a soft sound of shifting gears and displacing metal, my helmet retracted into the suit.

The cool, clean air filled my lungs as I took a deep breath, running a hand through my hair—a nervous habit passed down through my family.

I allowed myself a brief moment of respite, dropping onto a simple wooden stool near the corner of the room. The quality craftsmanship groaned under the weight of my armor but held firm.

What a horror of a situation this was.

A soft ping sounded, drawing my attention to my left forearm. With a quick motion, I activated the interface, and like a certain bat detective, a small computer projected a holographic display into the air.

The screen showed that the analysis of the pheromones was complete, accompanied by a concise summary:

[ANALYSIS COMPLETE!]

Summary:

• These pheromones induce a heightened level of dissociation and amplify pleasure receptors by an alarming 500%.
• Highly addictive: even the most resilient minds can develop dependency after minimal exposure.
• Prolonged exposure leads to severe brain "rot," rendering the subject highly susceptible to magical or mundane forms of brainwashing.

Status:

• Immunization and antidote batch (x3) prepared and ready for deployment.

The report's stark details confirmed my worst fears about the hive's current state. This wasn’t just magic or instinct driving the madness—it was calculated corruption, a biological weapon designed to enslave.

I took a steadying breath, mentally filing away the information. At least now I had the tools to protect myself and potentially help others, though the latter seemed like a distant hope in this desolate hive.

With a flick of my wrist, the hologram vanished, and I steeled myself for whatever lay ahead.

After taking a moment to steady myself, I stood, reequipped my helmet, and let the mechanisms seal it back into place with a soft mechanical hiss. With my senses recalibrated and focus restored, I began a thorough examination of the room.

This couldn't be all there was. A changeling queen—especially one as cunning and secretive as Chrysalis—would undoubtedly have more hidden away.

Activating the scanning systems in my armor, I let the advanced tech probe the room far beyond the limits of my augmented vision. It didn’t take long for the system to highlight an anomaly: a subtle disturbance in the wall's composition. Approaching the spot, I found what appeared to be an ordinary rock, but when I pressed it, the mechanism beneath responded with a faint click.

Runes—intricate and ancient—flared to life in the shape of a doorframe, their soft, eerie glow casting an arc of light onto the barren walls. The center of the arc shimmered briefly before dissolving into darkness, revealing a passage hidden within.

As the glow faded, my HUD alerted me to another detail: faint hoofprints and small splatters of dried blood trailing into the depths of the tunnel. My stomach tightened at the sight, the unease settling in my chest like a heavy weight. Whatever lay ahead wasn't going to be pleasant.

Steeling myself, I activated the helmet’s integrated lights, their beams cutting through the oppressive darkness. Reaching to my side, I drew my sidearm—a Glock 17 outfitted with a silencer and mounted flashlight. The familiar weight in my hand was a small comfort.

With a deep breath, I stepped into the abyss, the sound of my boots echoing softly against the stone as I ventured deeper into the unknown.