Knot Your Fated M.U.S.E. (The Parazodiac Nexus #1)

9. Selfish Implications And Hopeful Revolution

9

SELFISH IMPLICATIONS AND HOPEFUL REVOLUTION

~NYX~

" I wonder if my family is the reason I’m here…”

The ceiling holds no answers, but I stare at it anyway, counting cracks in the darkness while the voices in my head whisper possibilities.

Six years of torture, of trials, of transformation into whatever I am now – and I can't help but wonder if my family put me here.

The others have found what rest they can in their corners, but sleep eludes me. Their stories echo in my mind, each one a possible reflection of my own lost history.

Could I have had a sister like Azurite? Someone who shared my face but harbored enough jealousy to condemn me to this place? The fragments of memory that sometimes surface take on a darker meaning now.

Or perhaps it was a parent, like in Luna's case. Someone who saw omega designation as the final shame in a long list of imperfections. The voices remind me that I must have had some "flaw" that made me undesirable, some reason beyond simply being an omega that landed me in Ravenscroft's special research program.

The lullaby floats through my mind again, that haunting melody I can never quite grasp.

Could those gentle notes have come from the same voice that sentenced me to this hell? A mother's love turned to betrayal, like Riot's story but with different shadows.

The thought of that – of someone singing sweet songs while planning my destructio n – sends a shiver through my body.

The voices grow agitated, whispering warnings about trust, family, and bonds that break.

"I doubt it."

Riot's voice cuts through the darkness, surprising me. I turn my head, trying to locate her in the pitch black now that the fluorescent lights are off. Finally, I make out her form, my vision enhancing until I can see her crystal clear. Night vision seems to be one of the traits you need to continue to survive here, but maybe I was the only one subjected to such injectables since it doesn’t seem these girls have been here as long as I have to acquire it.

That or they have yet to fix the after-effects of bleeding eyes that lead to shock and death.

Riot is lying on her side, facing me from across the room, her piercings catching what little light remains in the tiny bulbs at the top corner that blinks on and off like a timer of sorts.

"What makes you say that?" I ask softly, not wanting to wake the others.

"Looking at you," she says, her usual sharp tone softened by darkness and shared confinement. "Just...something about you. I don't think your family could be that cruel."

"Why?"

She shifts slightly, metal clinking against concrete.

"One thing I know about Ravenscroft…they have to contact family when an omega dies here."

The information hits like a punch to the gut. The voices fall silent, processing this new piece of the puzzle.

"Why would they do that?"

Before Riot can answer, I find myself checking on the others out of a new habit.

Azurite lies curled on her side, her heterochromatic eyes hidden in sleep, looking almost peaceful despite our circumstances. Luna sleeps on her back, face turned slightly upward as if listening even at rest.

It makes sense – that position would let her catch any sounds or vibrations from above or below, her other senses working even while she dreams.

Returning my attention to Riot rewards me with the slight shift in the darkness, her piercings catching the dim light once more as she explains.

"It's all about money," she says, voice barely above a whisper. "The families get paid while we're here. Regular deposits, like some fucked up pension plan for selling their omega child to torture."

My voices whisper in disappointment, but I ignore the tiny ripples of uncertainty that hum through my body.

Pretend my heart isn’t clenching at the near possibility of my own family doing this for the sake of money.

"Some get more than others. Depends on what they're looking for in their test subjects, I guess. What traits they want to study." She lets out a bitter laugh. "Or maybe it's just whoever negotiates the best deal. Like haggling at a market, but the merchandise is your own flesh and blood."

My stomach turns at the thought. The voices grow agitated, their whispers taking on a sharp edge of fury.

"But sometimes," Riot adds, her tone shifting to something almost contemplative, "sometimes the families actually need the money. Not that it makes it right, but..." She pauses, yawning. "It's sinister when you think about it. You being offered in exchange for money that can be used on a younger or older sibling that your family favors."

When you think about it, there are plenty of possibilities that can be considered here. None of them are really morally right, but obviously possible because of how Ravenscroft continues to thrive, despite their sinister and hidden intentions for us Omegas.

Those fragments of memory - the mirror image with different eyes, the shared laughter turned to silence - take on a new, horrifying meaning.

"A twin," I whisper, the revelation making my chest tight. "If I really do have a twin sister..."

I can't finish the thought, but Riot seems to understand anyway. The shadows paint pictures in my mind: two identical girls, one perhaps sickly or needing expensive care. Parents faced with an impossible choice - sacrifice one daughter to save the other.

But even as the scenario forms, something feels wrong about it.

The voices hiss disagreement, insisting there's more to my story than simple family economics.

"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 me down 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.

"Honey, we're in a secret government facility being tortured and experimented on. If you weren't a little crazy by now, that would be way more concerning."

Despite everything, a laugh bubbles up in my throat.

It feels foreign, almost wrong in this place of pain and darkness, but somehow right at the same time.

"Besides," Riot continues, "maybe the shadows are real. Maybe they're part of whatever they did to you here. Who knows, but at the end of the day, this could just be your mind's way of processing all this fucked up shit endured throughsix long years. Either way, they've helped you survive this long. That's what matters. Can’t judge a trait that keeps you alive. No matter how cynical it is."

The voices hum in approval at her words, their song taking on a warmer tone. They like Riot, I realize. The quietness in my head gives me an odd sense of calm and approval. It’s beginning to dawn on me that I like Riot.

On first appearance, many would probably judge her. Whether it’s due to her skin tone that she expressed is used as a form of prejudice outside these walls or the anger she projects so easily that most assume it’s the only part of her personality they know, without interaction, you’d never know how smart, talented, and unique she is.

I like her honesty, resilience, and the way she seems to face horror with defiance rather than surrender.

She’s a powerhouse that won’t be easily tamed.

It makes me hope that she will get out of this with us. Whatever this challenge entails. Because as she hoped, she deserves to return to the limelight of the free world where one day, her mother will be forced to see her genuine happiness.

Surrounded by a pack that cherishes all of her.

Having such thoughts seems like a new experience for me, for I never thought of getting to know other Omegas, yet here I am, wishing prosperity for the ones I’ve known for a few hours and shared circumstances.

I don’t hate it…

"You know what's really messed up?" she asks after a moment of comfortable silence. "I think I prefer it here sometimes. At least the pain is honest. The people hurting us don't pretend to love us while they do it."

The truth of that statement settles heavily in my chest.

Physical torture, as horrible as it is, carries a certain purity of purpose. There's no betrayal in it, no manipulation of trust or twisting of love into weapons.

"Do you think we'll die here?" I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it.

Riot is quiet for so long that I think she might have fallen asleep. When she finally speaks, her voice carries a steel I've come to associate with her core strength.

"Not tonight," she says firmly. "And not by our own hands. If they want us dead, they'll have to do it themselves. I won't give them the satisfaction of breaking me completely."

"Even if it means more pain?"

"Especially then." Her piercings glint as she turns to face me fully. "Pain means we're still alive and capable of feeling, even if it's just agony. The day we stop feeling is the day they truly win."

Isn’t that the real truth…

"Besides," she continues, "I made a promise to myself. If I ever get out of here, I'm going to find every single person who profits from places like this. Every family member who sells their omega relatives for monthly payments. Every official who looks the other way. Every doctor who justifies torture in the name of science." Her voice drops lower, carrying a predator's promise. "And I'm going to make them understand exactly what they've done to us. Give them the perfect taste of sweet brutality.”

It seems like the perfect challenge, and I wonder if they can do it. All of us somehow get out of this and when we’ve found our packs and secured our freedom, we work towards helping more Omegas escape the clutches of other laboratories.

Labs. Islands. Forced marriages.

Until laws are made to finally protect us.

The promise of revenge tames the final whispers in my head, inviting a lull of silence that makes me feel like this new hopeful plan could come to fruition one day.

That they’re the Omegas who can be capable of doing exactly that.

Start a revolution through the Fated M.U.S.E. they created.

"If we get out," I whisper, "I'll help you."

Riot turns her head once more, her eyes barely open but her smile further widening on her softened face.

“Lead the way.”

My lips can’t curl upward anymore than they have.