Page 63 of Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E.

"If that was the case," Riot says carefully, "if an omega was given the choice to self-sacrifice for family…well, that's different. Still fucked up, but different." She shifts again as if attempting to get comfortable. "But most omegas who end up in Ravenscroft…is never by choice. That's a rarity in itself because what sane omega would walk in here to be a guinea pig with no way out?"

The question hangs in the air between us, heavy with implication. She's right —— who would choose this?

Choose daily torture, endless experiments, and the systematic destruction of everything that makes you human.

Riot's revelation hangs heavy in the darkness. I watch her shift onto her back, the motion deliberate and weary. The shadows whisper understanding in my mind - another piece of the cruel system revealed.

"Makes sense," I murmur, keeping my voice low. No one would submit themselves to this horror that we could dare label a fable fairytale.It’s all for the money."Follow the money. Always follow the money."

A bitter laugh escapes Riot, barely more than a breath.

"That's what Mina used to say. She'd seen so many omegas disappear into places like this. Said the families always got something out of it. Money, status, political favor. Some kind of payment for their silence and cooperation."

I digest this, the voices growing restless with implications.

"So if my family submitted me..."

"They'd be getting regular payments," Riot confirms. "And trust me, they would have contacted them about your death by now. Let’s be real, they don’t need to be truthful, and they probably could have hoaxed your death with how many times we lose consciousness after surviving the cruel, near-death experiences we deal with on the regular.” She sighs and closes her eyes for a moment. “Six years is a long time to keep paying if they didn't have to."

The thought settles like ice in my veins. Six years of torture, of experiments, of being torn apart and rebuilt according to someone else's design.

If my family had put me in here, surely they would have ended it by now. Claimed their final payment and washed their hands of the whole thing.

Unless...

"Maybe they're getting paid more because I survive," I whisper, the possibility tasting like ash on my tongue. "Maybe that's why they keep pushing me harder, breaking medown further. Because someone's profiting from my continued existence."

Riot's piercings catch the dim light as she turns her head to look at me.

"Nah. That's not it either."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because you're different," she says simply. "The way they treat you, the tests they run... it's not like with us regular lab rats. I haven’t been here long, sure, but I definitely heard about you. The longest-living Omega at Ravenscroft. You're their prize specimen, their perfect M.U.S.E. Whatever brought you here, it wasn't family greed."

The shadows stir in my mind, still awake and whispering hauntingly against the walls of my consciousness, agreeing in their own cryptic way.

"Then why?" I ask, more to myself than Riot. "Why am I here? Why can't I remember?"

"Maybe that's the point," she suggests quietly. "Maybe forgetting is part of whatever they did to you. Or..." She hesitates, choosing her words carefully. "Maybe forgetting was the only way to survive it."

Could my missing memories be self-protection rather than something they took from me? A wall my mind built to shield itself from whatever horror brought me here?

Across the room, Azurite stirs slightly in her sleep, murmuring something too soft to catch. Luna remains still, but there's a tension in her face that suggests she might be listening even in dreams.

"Sometimes I think I remember things," I confess, watching our sleeping companions. "Little fragments that don't make sense. A laugh here, a touch there. The lullaby that's always just out of reach. But trying to hold onto them is like..."

"Like trying to catch smoke," Riot finishes. "Yeah, I get that. After what they've done to us here... sometimes I wonder if my memories before Ravenscroft are even real anymore. If I made up the good parts just to have something to hold onto."

The honesty in her voice makes my chest ache. These are thoughts I've had too —— wondering if the brief flashes of warmth and love I sometimes recall are real memories or just desperate fantasies created by a broken mind.

"But the shadows remember. The voices in my head" I whisper, not sure why I'm sharing this. "They see and recognize things that I must have forgotten. Know things I'm positive I’ve never learned. Sometimes they sing to me, like they're trying to help me remember valuable memories, but..."

"But the memories slip away anyway," Riot says softly, understanding in her voice rather than judgment. "Like water through your fingers."

"Sadly…." I turn my head to study her profile in the darkness. "You don't think I'm crazy for hearing them? The shadows?"

A quiet snort escapes her.

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