It was a nice day for Clara Klaus, the Scarlet Sentinel. Of course, any day where the tomboyish heroine could beat up bad guys was a nice one, so she had a lot of nice days. In fact, as she was reflecting on this she was in the process of beating up a particularly irritating villainess.

The bitch had gone ahead and turned city hall into her palace. The mayor had been turned into a doting concubine, while any number of staff and other people who just happened to be there had been turned into maids, dogs, topiaries, paintings… a lot of different changes, the kind of disregard for other people that made the Scarlet Sentinel really mad. Sure, the noblewoman had talked a big game about how it was her duty to lead the city into a more civilized era, but well, all the villains talked like that. This one just did it with the right combination of condescension and a fake british accent that she was particularly enjoyable to deck.

The villainess - who hadn’t even had the decency to call herself anything worth a capital letter - had been a bit rough to get to, filling the path with her maids and living armors and what have you, but once the Sentinel had actually reached her, with some tears in her tight red-leather, caped, biker-style costume and a good bit of anger, she dropped like a sack of potatoes. The minion master magic types like her never really put up that much of a fight once you got to them. Clara almost wished she could put up more of a fight, so she could punch her more.

The room started to shimmer and change as the magic holding it together was dispersed. It would be days before it was completely back to normal on it’s own, although the hero organizations had technology or their own mages to speed that deterioration up. Sooner or later, the place would be back to normal. Now, the real issue would be the people she’d changed. They wouldn’t return to their normal forms without significant intervention.

Clara sighed a bit, and then took a phone out of her pocket and put in a call. “Scarlet Sentinel speaking. Bitch is snoring now.”

“Proof of mental security required.” said the femine, slightly robotic voice on the other end. The Scarlet Sentinel sighed - she got why the agencies got so many robot-secretaries from the Great Machina, they were good at their jobs, but they were irritating. Granted, it was probably smart to check that heroes reporting success weren’t being mind controlled.

“Look outside your window, bolt bucket. City Hall should be showing magic deterioration.”

There was a pause, and a bit of shuffling. Then, there was a “ping” sound, and the voice returned. “Confirmation of mental security accepted.”

The Scarlet Sentinel sighed again. “Great, finally. So, you know the drill. Cleanup crews, anti-magic, etc. We’ve got at least a dozen code-As, thirty different code-Ms, and I don’t even know how many code-Os. I’ll be bringing one of the Ms back to the hideout to treat them there and see if I can’t get any information on how to break it easier.”

A few more computery beeps and boops that Clara couldn’t decipher, and then the voice came back. “Affirmative. Cleanup crews dispatched. Query: This unit would like to know if Clara is free on-”

“Thanks, bye.” Clara didn’t let the bot finish, hanging up. It wasn’t the poor girl’s fault, she knew, but well, Clara didn’t want any more to do with hero bureaucracy than she absolutely had to, and that included the cute robot girls involved in it.

A few minutes later, she’d handed off the snoozing noblewoman to the regular cops. They started to spread out with some fancy gadgetry she wasn’t sure the exact function of, and she turned to be faced by a dozen nearly-identical maids. They had turned docile in the wake of their mistress’ defeat, no longer fighting and instead just… following her around. It was kinda unnerving, honestly. “...So, you all.” she said, and they didn’t react - she felt like they should have snapped to attention, but they hadn’t ever relaxed from it. “You just… stay here and do what the cops tell you to. You’ll be all fixed up soon. Anyone in charge of the lot?”

The maids didn’t talk, but one of them (who, frankly, Scarlet Sentinel couldn’t distinguish from the rank and file) stepped forward and curtsied. “I am the Head Maid. A pleasure to serve.” she said.

Scarlet Sentinel blinked. “...I’m not asking you to serve anyone, that’s kinda the point of… nevermind, I hate brainwashing…” she muttered, “You, on the bike, with me.”

The Head Maid smiled enigmatically, but followed as requested. She turned to the assorted other maids first. “You all, do as you were told.”

Clara mounted on her bike, putting a helmet on and handing the spare to the maid, who did as well. The Scarlet Cycle shot off like a bullet, although for it’s two riders there was barely any wind - the wonders of huge amounts of money and tech.

“So,” Clara said after a bit, “What’s going through your head, huh? Why are you all so nice when I decked your boss?”

“Because,” the Head Maid responded through the helmet comms, “You beat her. A true ruler is one who does not know defeat. Therefore, she clearly was not fit to be a noblewoman. Why should we fight for someone undeserving of our allegiance?”

Scarlet Sentinel blinked. Usually, minions are blindly loyal to the person who converted them - it was why they were willing to go be tossed around like a ragdoll by heroes if it meant maybe weakening them a little for their master. But apparently, the Head Maid at least was not that way. “Huh. I’m kinda surprised she didn’t magic you to be more obedient.”

“There was no need. If you had been defeated, we would remain unflinchingly loyal and fulfill her every desire.” The Head Maid said. “Instead, you defeated her, and proved that she was undeserving of our loyalty. If anything, we should thank you rather than fight you.”

Clara didn’t look over her shoulder at the maid (because she was driving, and was not stupid), but she would if she could. Instead she just shook her head. “I mean, you should thank me, yeah, but not for that.”

“I’m sure you think that, for now.” the Head Maid responded cheerfully.

God it was a waste of time talking to brainwashed people, wasn’t it. This was a different song and dance then you usually saw in a minion, but in the same running theme. “...Right. Yeah. Anyway, home base should be coming up soon. We’ll get you taken care of.”

It was impossible to tell without looking at her, but Clara had a distinct feeling that the maid was giving that quiet, knowing smile.

-------------------------------------------------

The Scarlet Sentinel’s “hideout” was… not hidden, or even particularly subtle. Clara wasn’t one for subtlety, and she didn’t much care for the secret identity part since her mundane identity was just as big, if not bigger, a target than the heroic one. The Sentinel’s hideout was a pretty big mansion on a private island off the coast.

The Klaus family was one of the many old-money families of the city, to Clara’s infinite irritation. It meant suitors, it meant expectations, it meant a bunch of baggage she wanted nothing to do with. So when she’d inherited the place, she’d fired the staff (well, “fired”; they were on the payrolls, but she told them not to bother coming in to work; the family assets made more than enough passive income to support them without even denting Clara’s personal finances), painted the rooms she used black and red and pretended the rest didn’t exist, and lived alone. She didn’t interact with high society all that much, and had eventually turned to heroism when some of that staff (which she saw as more parental than her actual parents) were captured by villains and she hadn’t been able to do anything to help them. As it turns out, arbitrary levels of money and passive income combined with entirely too much free time is a decent super power.

The parts of the mansion that Clara Klaus didn’t use were instead dedicated to the Scarlet Sentinel’s work. In particular, this meant the garage that she pulled into, and then the lab that would help to analyze the corruption on the Head Maid.

Clara took a few minutes to get the cycle stowed away and remotely set up the analysis machine. When she stepped into the manor proper, though, she was surprised to find that the Head Maid had somehow acquired a broom and duster, and had already cleaned her way halfway across the room.

“Hey, maid lady, you don’t have to clean the place up-” Clara started, walking up to her.

“Oh, Lady Klaus, I have to say I wasn’t expecting someone with your attitude to have such an impressive home.” The Head Maid said as if she hadn’t spoken, “It is quite a sight, even in it’s current state.”

“Thanks,” Clara said, gently taking away the broom and duster. “That’s real nice. But you don’t have to-”

“I am a maid. I’m afraid I do have to.” The Head Maid replied. “We can move to the examination room in a minute, my lady.” The maid produced another broom from no apparent location, and got back to work.

Clara sighed. This… clearly was not going to be rushed. So she just had to take a seat and watch her work. Which, admittedly, didn’t take very long at all - she was supernaturally efficient, and soon the entrance hall was completely spotless.

“Well, I appreciate the help, but I have to get you checked out before I send you to join your friends at rehab.” Clara said, gently directing the maid towards the room.

With the hall clean, she followed in an oddly docile way. “Of course, Lady Klaus.” she said, following along… until they got into the hallway, at which point she drew her broom again.

“Stop.” Clara snapped, getting a bit irritated. The Head Maid acted quiet and timid, but she could be stubborn for a girl claiming to be dedicated to service.  “If you’re so insistent on following orders, follow this one - stop cleaning and follow me to the exam room.”

The Head Maid seemed almost a bit surprised at that. But then, she smirked, and curtsied. “As you wish, Lady Klaus…” she said. After that, Clara had no more issues getting her to the examination room.

Compared to the rest of the manor, the room seemed almost out of place. Sterile hospital-white walls and an array of beeping and booping equipment, with the centerpiece being a simple chair with a few electrodes fixed to the arm rests. Clara directed the Head Maid to sit in it, and started to attach the electrodes to her arms and head. The maid took it stoically and without complaint, helping as needed.

The machine whirred to life, and started to scan the Head Maid. The analyser was meant to determine whether the corruption was magical or tech-based, the strength and form, how it was constructed, and a variety of other factors that would tell the heroes what they were dealing with and how to fix it. It was a lot easier to fix a compulsion than it was to fix a total identity and body rewrite, and knowing which it was would give the people who were trying to fix them something to go off of.

Unfortunately for Clara, this was a long, boring process in which she basically just had to sit next to the victim and make sure they didn’t try to escape before it was done. And she hated sitting still.

“I’ve noticed that you have a very impressive home, Miss Klaus, but no staff to speak of. Why is that?” The Head Maid asked. Clara… honestly didn’t want to talk to her more, but she might as well. It was better than sitting in awkward silence.

“Because I don’t need anyone. I live alone because I like it that way. I can clean up after myself, so why bother a dozen maids and butlers to come in when I can just keep them on the payroll and do it myself?”

The Maid tsk’d at that. “Of course you can - you are a woman of power and status, it is obvious you can handle yourself. But just because you don’t need servants does not mean you don’t deserve them.”

Clara sighed, reclining in her chair a bit. “I mean, really? Like, I get that it’s just a status thing more than anything, but I’ve never really cared about that. And besides, it’d be a bit weird for a heroine to have maids.”

“Since when have you cared about what is strange? You are powerful, and you don’t need to submit to the values of the masses. If you did, you would be a dainty socialite. You didn’t care about the expectations of the elite when you became a hero, so why care about the expectations of heroes when you are part of the elite?”

There was something off about the Head Maid’s logic. Intellectually, Clara knew that. But for some reason, she didn’t particularly want to rebut her. “I mean, yeah. Doesn’t mean I really want any servants though. Why bother when I can do things better myself?”

The Head Maid nodded slightly, careful not to let the electrodes pop off. “Understandable, especially for one such as yourself. I’ve never seen anyone with such skill and grace without supernatural assistance.”

Scarlet Sentinel blushed a bit. “Thanks, I guess…” she said, one hand playing with her hair a bit. Sure, she knew she was a bit above average in the skill department, but it was still nice having that acknowledged. She didn’t notice how her leather hero costume had started to shift and change - her combat boots, for example, had changed from tough leather to a lighter material, and was starting to grow a heel. Her pants had started to merge together a bit, and weren’t looking that leathery anymore either.

“I mean it, truly. You are quite a combatant. And so beautiful, that it’s almost a shame that you have to dirty yourself in combat.”

Clara was nodding along. Usually, she’d have brushed off the compliments. But something was different about the Head Maid complimenting her. It was a lot more satisfying. She twirled her bright red hair with a finger, not knowing how it had grown out from it’s short pixie cut down to her chin, and showed no sign of stopping.

The Head Maid smirked again, and continued. “Honestly, while you say you want nothing to do with your social status, you’re a stellar example of it’s best aspects. The old ideal of noble obligation to their lessers is strong in you.”

The analysis machine had started to beep urgently. Clara didn’t notice. “...I mean… I appreciate it… but I wouldn’t call them lessers…” she said, although her tone wavered a bit more than it usually would.

“It’s not an insult,” the Head Maid said innocently, “It is a mere statement of fact. You are more powerful, more morally upstanding, you have far more impact on the world than the average citizen. They are, in all respects, beneath you.” Clara frowned, and wasn’t nodding anymore. The Head Maid noticed, and pushed forward even harder. “You seek to protect them from those who would do them harm. If they were not your lessers, they would not require your protection. In truth, I should hope that I am so lucky to have a mistress such as you.”

Clara had begun to notice something was wrong, but the Head Maid pushed past that. In a daze, Clara smiled again. “Hm. That’s nice. Maybe if they can’t cure you, you can come work for me…” she nodded to herself, as more and more of the leather of her costume turned into silk, hugging her curves.

She was nearly there. The Head Maid stood quietly, taking off the electrodes and causing the machine to freeze in it’s analysis - although it had already reported that she was a magic user rather than a victim, not that Clara had noticed. She walked to the Scarlet Sentinel, and fell to her knees. “I don’t wish to wait. I’d rather serve you immediately, Mistress. I’ll help you in all you wish, your desires will be my goals. I will help you bring this city to heel, for it’s own good. Those who claim to rule it have no right to it, not like you do…”

Clara Klaus’ smiled dreamily, spirals whirling in her eyes, and her clothing most of the way to a dress. Images of the city, of her city, and what she would do with it flashed through her mind. The Head Maid was right. It wasn’t even her right to rule, it was her duty to rule. This was her city. It always had been, and she only just realized that. But soon, everyone else would. “Very well, maid. If you wish to serve me… prove it. Right now.” The Crimson Countess said, and spread her legs to give the Head Maid easy access…

-------------------------------------------------

The servants of the Klaus family had been a bit surprised when they received messages asking to return to the mansion. Since Clara had inherited, they’d effectively been in retirement. Still, they were being paid to do nothing most days - the least they could do was see what she wanted.

At the door, they were greeted by a quiet, average looking maid. She thanked them courteously for coming, and guided them into the entrance hall. They found that the entire interior of the mansion had been painted crimson red. They were asked to wait as the maid collected her mistress.

Minutes later, a noblewoman walked down the stairs. She was clad in a revealing red silk dress, with a dark red cape flowing behind her. Her long red hair was done up in huge ringlets, and her face was caked in makeup that put her from “naturally pretty” to “goddess of beauty”. Each step oozed class and elegance. And when she got close, the servants would recognize their “boss”, Clara Klaus, in far more noble dress than they had ever seen her.

“Welcome back, servant.” She would greet each of them, an imperious authority to her tone. “I’ve decided that I have no further use for servants who shall not serve. You will return, immediately.”

The first few were blasted into maids identical to the one who had greeted them without a fight. By that time, some had started to react and run. Those, were instead changed into other things. Beautiful nude statues, a nice rug, a loyal dog. If they would not serve their superior, they had no right to their humanity.

The Crimson Countess, having collected her erstwhile servants, looked out the window to the city beyond. She smirked, imagining what it would look like when she was done with it.

Behind her, the Head Maid quietly gathered her new subordinates and prepared to do their mistress’ bidding.