Page 52 of Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E.

But it's genuine, sparked by something the voices whisper might be hope.

"The past can't help me build a future," I say, surprising myself with the conviction in my voice. "Those lost memories, even if I could get them back, won't change where I am now or who I've become. So I'm trying to focus on the memories I'm making in this moment. Like this one, with all of you."

My gaze sweeps across our small circle, taking in each face that hours ago had been just another number in Ravenscroft's endless experiments.

Now I see them as people – survivors, fighters, women who refuse to let their circumstances define them.

Finally, my eyes settle on Riot, seeing past her armor of ink and metal to the wounded warrior beneath.

"I'd love to meet Mina someday," I whisper, watching how her eyes widen slightly at the implication of a future beyond these walls. "But more than that...I'd love to spend time with you. Get to know the person behind the anger, see the world through eyes that have seen both darkness and light."

She shifts uncomfortably under my gaze, but I continue.

"Your anger doesn't define you, just like our pasts don't define any of us. What matters is who we're becoming, who all this pain and suffering has shaped us into. The strength it's given us, the resilience it's forged in our bones."

Luna and Azurite nod in quiet agreement, something like understanding passing between all of us.

We're more than our traumas, more than the numbers they've assigned us, more than the experiments they perform on us.

I watch as Riot blinks rapidly, emotion flickering across her face like shadow and light.

Her hands clench and unclench in her lap, fighting some internal battle between hope and experience, between the desire to believe and the fear of being hurt again.

Finally, she huffs and looks away, muttering a gruff.

"Whatever."

But the word carries none of her earlier bitterness, none of the defensive rage she wraps around herself like a shield.

Instead, it sounds almost soft, almost like permission to hope.

The voices in my head whisper that this is important – this moment of connection, this bridge being built between broken people.

Looking at these women, I realize they’ve been my only companions in this hell, but now, looking at these three women who've shared their stories and their scars, I wonder if we could be friends one day when we’re out of this madness.

If we can ever escape this hellhole…hope I dare to keep tucked away in the depths of my beating heart.

Because sometimes hope is the most dangerous weapon of all.

Looking at my newfound allies, each broken and reformed in their own ways, I can't help but think that maybe we have enough hope between us to out think the ropes of death being set up for us behind the hidden glasses and tall metal walls that keep us at bay.

We have a fighting chance…all that’s left now is a miracle to get us out.

8

INFILTRATE AND DESTROY

~DANTE~

The underground meeting room smells like gun oil and determination.

Our weapons are laid out across the steel table like deadly puzzle pieces waiting to be assembled. Each of us moves with practiced precision, checking magazines, testing comm units, and ensuring everything is perfect.

Because it has to be perfect.

We won't get a second chance at this.

"The size alone makes it a nightmare," Kieran mutters, methodically cleaning his favorite rifle. "Ravenscroft isn't just big…it's a fucking labyrinth. Multiple levels, endless corridors, security checkpoints every fifty feet."

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