Nikita Volt
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The Weapon Who Wept
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“Ana supposes she should be thankful for the anguish in her life. She should appreciate the formative pain forced on her under the guise of necessity and be grateful for the endless cycle of endings and beginnings. Death and resurrection. Every new experience ended in the death of her former self. The first time Ana had died was the night she was taken. That night marked the death of her innocence and the beginning of her new life. Her immaturity had been the next thing she had to sacrifice. Hardening herself in order to survive, sharpening her resolve and suppressing her disdain. Learning to inflict pain—training to kill. The day she met Katya was the only death she had welcomed. Katya reminded her there was life beyond the academy. Those crimson curls, a mirror image of the mother she had lost. Hope. Katya was hope. The last time she had died was the morning she escaped. Desperation had led her down a dark path. Her morals had been the last part of herself she had killed in order to
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“Seven words were all it took to turn her into that scared little girl again. The one who hid beneath her bedsheets, cowering as her future snuffed out her past. The one who wept into the Mistress’ shoulder as the woman supposedly carried her away from the danger, from the pain. That foolish, scared little girl.”
― The Weapon Who Wept
― The Weapon Who Wept
“[The Mistress] a decaying old woman lost in the cycle of abuse, fallen prey to the very same system she weaponized and searching for an escape from the consequences of her actions now that they finally caught up to her.”
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“It was a rite of passage in the academy, when the light in a girl’s eye would dim and her gaze grew impassive, soulless. Глаза мертвеца. Dead Man’s eyes, she remembers overhearing an older girl once whisper in passing.”
― The Weapon Who Wept
― The Weapon Who Wept
“Ana supposes she should be thankful for the anguish in her life. She should appreciate the formative pain forced on her under the guise of necessity and be grateful for the endless cycle of endings and beginnings. Death and resurrection. Every new experience ended in the death of her former self. The first time Ana had died was the night she was taken. That night marked the death of her innocence and the beginning of her new life. Her immaturity had been the next thing she had to sacrifice. Hardening herself in order to survive, sharpening her resolve and suppressing her disdain. Learning to inflict pain—training to kill. The day she met Katya was the only death she had welcomed. Katya reminded her there was life beyond the academy. Those crimson curls, a mirror image of the mother she had lost. Hope. Katya was hope. The last time she had died was the morning she escaped. Desperation had led her down a dark path. Her morals had been the last part of herself she had killed in order to live. The minor aches and pains seem so mundane in comparison now.”
― The Weapon Who Wept
― The Weapon Who Wept


