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Changing One’s Mind

This one is probably one of my most popular pieces, and given my audience and the circles they inhabit that’s of no surprise. As Volpes so apt demonstrates, I have a fetish for muscle growth and accompanying mental/personality changes. While I was writing the Investigations in Oplentis story back in March of 2022, I couldn’t get this idea out of my head of Enigma succumbing to the influence of the titan potion and becoming an even greater terror than the alchemist that created him.

It had become such a persistent, intrusive thought that I had to get it out of my system to clear my mind. And yet, reading the finished draft I grew to appreciate it for what it was, enough to keep in under my hat and wait for the opportunity to showcase it.

That opportunity came when artist balalaevGod opened up for a YCH that perfectly captured the sense of power and menace that I was seeking for this non-canon version of Enigma. I took the opportunity and ran with it, and the piece above was the result.

As a reminder, this is not the “true” timeline for Enigma. It’s never been official canon and very will be. Still, I think it’s hot and I am more than happy to explore it every now and then.

---

“Well, well. The great detective himself.”

Volpes could not bother hiding his exuberance, his signature grin plastered on his face. When his guards told him they had caught someone snooping around, he quickly closed the apothecary and rushed over to his warehouse headquarters. Just as they had been trained, his titans had thrown the intruder into a windowless cell, lit only by the skylights above in the back of the warehouse.

It didn’t take his enhanced vision to see the annoyance written plain on Enigma’s face as the mind mage lay on top of the cot in the corner of his prison, his arms folded under his head to provide extra cushioning. He had no one to blame but himself for this. One slip up, banging against a storage crate in the dark, and these brutes were on him in full force.

Curse those anti-magic dampeners.

“And look who it is, the big man himself coming to check on little ol’ me. Volpes… or should I say V-”

“That man died a long time ago when you were still a young pup. I’m Volpes now. And you’re in no position to antagonize me.” Despite the thinly veiled threat, Enigma allowed himself a wry smile. The damage had already been done, and the fox’s features contorted into a neutral expression, having lost some ground.

“Whoever you are now, you haven’t killed me yet, so that’s a promising start.”

“Why on Crossroads would I ever kill the great detective Enigma? Your stories give hope to the people for whom I provide succor.” The mind mage scoffed.

“The people you brainwash, you mean?” Having rehearsed this very conversation many times over, the titan was ready.

“A necessary evil. You’ve seen what my potion can do. Imagine if it fell into the wrong hands.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, ‘Volpes’. Since you don’t plan to kill me, what am I doing here? Why am I locked up like a caged animal?” The mind mage sat up, curling his leg towards him to give his arm a place to rest as he looked the alchemist in the eye.

“Because as much as I admire you, I cannot allow you to jeopardize my operations. You will be provided food and a means to occupy your time, but you will not be allowed to leave, and our anti-magic dampeners will be online all day, every day.” As if to underscore the point, one of the thugs who caught him entered the room carrying a tray, with a large bowl of steaming hot manticore stew gracing it. On the side, the mage noticed a book… the latest chapter of the ‘Detective Greyfang’ series he still read into adulthood. The shocked expression on Enigma’s face told Volpes all he needed to know as his man slid the tray through a slot in the cell’s bars.

“You’ve done your homework,” the mentalist conceded. “Still, what makes you so confident that you can keep me here? Even if I couldn’t just planeswalk away, people will come for me.”

“Please. You may be a celebrity, but you’re still a Magistrum agent in Oplentis. I doubt you told anyone you were even coming here. They’d have stopped you if you did. And as for your talent, there are metals and minerals that seal even your prestigious abilities, like the bars on this cage. Our ancestors went to war with and alongside planeswalkers, and you of all people should know they had countermeasures in place.” Though he maintained a neutral expression out of habit, Enigma knew his captor could hear the quickening of his pulse as the situation set in. “There may be another way out of this, but we’ll speak of that some other time. For now, I take my leave.”

As Volpes departed, leaving him alone in his cage, Enigma’s thoughts drifted to the apprentice he had taken in, that asked him to take this case.

“I’m sorry, Ed. I messed up.”

---

As days turned to weeks, turned to months, Enigma remained locked away, routinely moving to avoid blood clots in his extremities, only allowed out to take care of his daily needs, shackled by the same anti-planeswalking material all the while. For the first time, he was truly stuck. Yet every week, twice a week, Volpes would show up to ‘check in’. Usually, it resulted in a silent standoff between the two of them, but one day the great detective broke the silence.

“Hey.”

The titan, who had begun turning to leave, faced the mind mage with a quizzical look on his face.

“Finally, he deigns to speak.”

“You said earlier there was a chance I could get out of this. How?” The pained expression on his face spoke volumes.

“Simple, my friend.” Grinning, Volpes opened the pouch on his side and produced a vial of his potion.

“I don’t walk out of here until you win or I become your pawn, huh?”

“You’ve seen my men, and what they can do… what they’ve become. Would it really be all that bad?” As the mind mage refused to answer, the fox merely placed the vial in the slot between prison bars. “To join me or not, the choice is yours. Though I, for one, would welcome you to our merry band.”

As the sun began to set, and he readied for bed, Enigma’s eyes were glued to the glowing blue hue of the vial he had been given. Even as he slept, the ultimatum set forth by his warden stood firm in his mind. He contemplated it over the following days, awaiting Volpes’s inevitable return. And sure enough, like clockwork…

“Good morning, Detective Enigma.”

“I’ll do it.” He refused to look at Volpes, eyes firmly on the wall surrounding his cell. Sitting atop his cot, he gripped the vial tightly. “Just promise that once I drink, the anti-magic dampeners get turned off.”

Beaming, the fox-titan readily agreed. “I promise. Once you drink the whole bottle, I’ll have no reason to keep them on.” With no further words left between them, the mind mage took a deep breath, before downing the elixir in a single gulp. Showing his tongue to confirm the act, Volpes pointed to one of the guards. “You, go and turn off the dampeners. We don’t need them anymore.”

As the potion took effect, and warmth began to spread through his body, Enigma could feel his magic, at last, returning to him. Deep down, he still believed he had a way of turning the tables, working to shield his mind from the effects of the substance now flooding his system. At the same time, Volpes stood confident, thinking nothing could interfere with the effects of his great work.

The stark reality is that both beastkin vastly overestimated their own abilities, and that would cost both of them dearly.

Enigma grew, yes. The cot he sat on buckled and groaned, but nonetheless remained intact as its occupant began to change. As his gaze rose higher and higher off the ground, his loose-fitting tunic grew taut over his physique, clinging to the rapidly expanding musculature underneath. His breaches too began to tighten as his thickening calves poked out from his pant legs, still clinging snuggly onto his form.

Hearing the rips and tears of the seams, he flexed his bicep, exploding the sleeve effortlessly into rags that clung loosely to his mighty form. Chiseled abs exposed, the rest of his shirt too began to tear and tear until it resembled the aftermath of an animal attack. With a roll of his broadening shoulders, he gripped what remained before tearing it off of himself and discarding the now worthless garment. After all, what did he have left to hide?

Taking a moment for himself, the mage examined his new body. He could barely look down anymore, his pecs jutting out just far enough to hide his stomach, but as he touched his torso he could feel its shape and density. Never before had he had such weight in his limbs, yet when he moved them it took next to no effort. If anything, as he rotated his arms he found they were even more nimble than before, still able to reach around to his burgeoning backside. Looking at the man who gave him this gift, he smiled before pulling the bars of his cell apart with his bare hands, stepping out to greet Volpes with a predatory grin. To signify the end of his transformation, his left eye turned glowing emerald green, and his right emitted a golden shine all its own.

The alchemist was the first to speak. “How does it feel, to become something greater?”

As if in reply, the newly christened titan watched his arm curl inward, the bicep expanding and bulging. “I’ve never felt better in all my life. To think, I used to call myself tough enough and smart enough to handle anything. I had no idea what a pathetic weakling I truly was.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll never have to be that helpless ever aga-” It was then that Volpes and his men froze, unable to move any part of their bodies as Enigma’s eyes grew even brighter, working his magic on a captive audience.

Through his sorcery, Enigma saved himself from the fate of being Volpes’s servant, maintaining his own free will. And yet, he was no longer the same, nor would he ever be again. Touching the potion with his spell warped both, resulting in profound changes to the heart and mind of Rabrandt ‘Enigma’ Cyanis. He sneered at the fox, as realization hit him.

“Look at you, and this pathetic operation. You’ve been at this for ten years, and what do you have to show for it but a handful of vagrants eating out of your palm? A shame that you never had the vision to go with your alchemical prowess. Fret not, because I’m here now to take charge, and do what you couldn’t.” If he could move, Volpes would have bolted to the door to order his forces to turn the dampeners back on.

Unfortunately, he could only watch the horror unfold. “Wha-?” His voice was silenced by the wave of the mind mage’s hand.

“With your potion and my powers, I can dominate enough people and brainwash them into seeing things my way, starting with you and yours. You always wanted to change the world, ‘Volpes’, and through me, you’ll do just that… once we’ve made some adjustments.”

As the planeswalker spoke, the fear in Volpes’s heart began to melt away. In its place was something… primal. Looking back through his memories, Volpes grew disgusted at the feeble weaklings who visited his apothecary. They should know better than to talk to a man of power as if they were his equal. In fact, they should’ve been groveling at his feet this whole time, begging for his mercy. Why couldn’t anyone else see that strength and power were the only things that mattered? If one was the strongest, then they had the right to take control.

And no one was stronger, smarter, or more dominant than Enigma.

---

“Your excellency, we caught another one trying to break in.”

The titan had a young, adult wolfkin slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Approaching the throne upon which his lord liege sat, he knelt down as his captive kept beating on him uselessly.

“Excellent work. You may put them down.”

Slouching in his chair, Enigma cut an intimidating figure. He did not bother wearing anything over his torso, having long since outgrown the need for armor or protective clothing, allowing his own musculature to speak for itself. Snug green breaches were stuffed into an intimidating pair of spiked boots, befitting the warlord he had become. Completing the ensemble was a brown leather loincloth, a symbol of barbaric ferocity across the multiverse.

To his right was the one person he could say he was still grateful to. Volpes may have been a pathetic wretch, but there was no denying that he had inadvertently uplifted the wolfkin from mediocrity masquerading as greatness into something truly powerful: Something that commanded awe and respect in equal measure. And having been ‘cleansed’ of his weakness, the fox-titan was a loyal and useful advisor. Hands behind his back, he stood at attention, awaiting his next order.

On his left, propped up by the side of his throne in the former warehouse-turned-palace was the weapon that became a symbol of fear to people throughout Crossroads. Custom made after his transformation was a large claymore, trimmed in gold around the pommel, guard, and fuller. Most would need two hands to wield such a weapon, but the titan effortlessly fought using one, keeping his right hand free for spellcasting. That said, the staging was merely symbolic. He would not need it for the task at hand.

“My forces tell me that you’ve been trespassing in the imperial pantry. Oplentis frowns on sticky fingers, especially when those fingers are barely strong enough to lift a sword.” Knowing they were trapped, the wolfkin prostrated themself before the titan.

“Please. Ever since you took my sister, there haven’t been enough hands to work the fields. We needed to feed ours-”

“No. You didn’t.”

The bluntness of the retort shocked the young pup to his core. “Your… Your excellency?”

“You don’t need to feed, or even produce. The men and women at my command are capable of raising our own food. I don’t tax you leeches because I need to. I do it to prove that I can. If I want your crops or your livestock, I’ll take them for no other reason than that you lack the strength to stop me. I couldn’t care less if you starve. Your infantile groveling only proves my point.”

Hearing that, the prisoner could feel his heart drop. “But… but you’re the great detective!?”

“That was before my evolution.” Lifting himself off of his throne and onto his feet, the wolf-titan took a moment to relish the heft and power of his body, flexing his bicep, feeling its tightness, letting his captive know why he was in charge. Standing tall, towering over his quarry, Enigma walked slowly, purposefully towards them. “Stand, worm.” Before their mind could process the command, their body was already firmly on their feet, looking up at their former idol. “You’re in luck. Through it all, I see in you a bit of my old self.”

Just for a moment, the wolfkin allowed himself to hope again. “You do, your excellency?”

That hope quickly faded as the titan gave a malicious grin, “Yes, and I want nothing more than to snuff it out. Volpes, a vial. Now.” While his lesser titan began fetching a potion from his satchel, Enigma set to work. “Never you fret, once we’ve finished your ‘reeducation’, you’ll be fit enough to join my army.”

The young pup began to recall their friends and family, the ones they stuck with as the titans began their campaign of conquest, and realized just how worthless they all were. The more they thought about their own body, the more the revulsion began to grow until they were begging to become something more.

Having placed the vial in his master’s hand, Volpes returned to his position next to the throne, drunk from the ecstasy of following his master’s orders. The superior titan held out the life-changing elixir for his new recruit, who now greedily accepted this blessing. And with the final piece in position, Emperor Enigma, the Mind Titan was set to welcome a new soldier to his service. Nothing made him happier than watching the change, remembering the day he became what he was now. With a sinister smile, he returned to his throne to enjoy the show.

“Volpes.”

“Yes, sire.”

“Prepare a cot in the barracks, and inform the Captain that yet another has succumbed to my irresistible charms.”

Grinning ear to ear, the fox-titan nodded. “Of course, sire.”