#child indoctrination is abuse

[deservedgrace]

cult jokes are a symptom of and contribute to the simultaneous sensationalizing of cults (cults are all dark cloaks and animal sacrifices and devil worship and group suicide and despicable/unhinged beliefs) and diminishing of cults ("uwu come join my CULT XD we're gonna make cookies and WORSHIP SATAN teehee"), but i'm realizing how they go so hand-in-hand with the mindset of "only ~stupid/evil/crazy/etc.~ people could possibly join a cult. if it were me i would simply not fall for cult propaganda."

the diminishing part means that people don't take you seriously if you say you're an ex cult member or talk about your experiences in a cult or believe you are a current victim of a cult, because cults are just silly little groups that have weird beliefs but are otherwise innocuous. the sensationalizing part means people will also not take you seriously because if it was Actually a cult cult, that does harm and has evil beliefs, you should've known better because any reasonable person would have seen through it. the other side of "only an [xyz] person joins a cult" is "i am not an [xyz] person so i will never join a cult or be victim to propaganda and other cult tactics." the other side of "if it were me i would simply not fall for propaganda" is "someone falling for propaganda is fully a choice and a personal failing on their part." and combined they make: if you were [xyz] enough to join a cult and fall for propaganda, that means you deserved it.

people who would never make jokes about any other kind of abuse but feel perfectly fine making cult jokes used to kind of baffle me, because why is joking about personal abuse a problem but large-scale/group abuse is fine? why is it suddenly funny when you're the one that wants to perpetuate the abuse? but if your belief around cults is: "your experience wasn't that bad [diminishing], and if it was that bad [sensationalizing] it was your own fault and personal failing [i would simply not fall for propaganda], which means you deserved what you went through [only stupid/evil/crazy/etc people join cults]" and you don't understand how cults or cult tactics work, cult survivors/victims probably feel like a fair target for jokes (they are not, to be clear).

[ohwolfling]

instead of reblogging, i'm doing this because tumblr WILL NOT WORK

I genuinely don't think it's a lore issue. I've been writing about violence in media and trauma representation for about a decade now. Baldur's Gate 3 is setting a new standard in how we handle these themes.

There is no lore decision they could've made that could force people to unpack their own relationship to the abuser bias that comes built in because unfortunately... we really do be livin' in a society (also Larian chose to just believe in religious trauma, slavery, murder, etc, instead of doing what DnD has been doing these last few years which is to weirdly try to pretend that like, cults and villains don't have these things via ret con instead of just... being able to tell adult stories but I digress).

I have an entire meta on Gale's specific abuse and how it is both wielding religious abuse and a very common avenue for predatory behavior, mentorship.

I've also started unpacking Shadowheart's themes of child abuse, indoctrination, and an often overlooked delineation of that, child torture.

Storytellers have a responsibility to keep the narrative from joyfully condoning abusive, predatory behavior but at a point, you can lead a horse to water but you can't make it not internalize its own role or victimhood in the global abusive household that is capitalism (and more people than can even process and admit it are survivors of familial/domestic abuse).

If you'd like some real world context for HOW we identify when/if we ourselves have been victimized, I really recommend Nadine Burke Harris' talk on childhood trauma in the context of identify Adverse Childhood Experiences rather than waiting for self identification.

[bonefall]

Do Birch and Alder ever learn of what happened to Misty? Actually, how would stolen kits (I feel like there’s an actual term for this but I forgot) throughout clan history in general feel about their… stolenness (I mean, that is if they ever learned about it) sorry if this is worded poorly hah

There was an old word for Stolen Kits before its outlawing; Honor Child. Kurrnia in Clanmew. They are not called that word anymore.

Through history it was a very bloody thing. Those children got harshly indoctrinated, and the "6 month" apparentice age originally came because that was thought to be the "age of loyalty".

that's just a cutesy way of saying it's harder to brainwash teenagers than children, by the way. To the point where it's not worth it to try.

When Birch and Alder found out, they're going to be old enough to get the "justifications." That they were won fairly, their mother was threatening them, that they were "saved." Petal Claw is the only parent they've ever known at that point... so, they were happy to take those excuses.

I don't think it lasted forever. I want them to both eventually leave SkyClan and find their dad, who desperately misses Misty. BUT, I want one to remain.

Because, that individual is going to get used as an excuse for why Kit Claiming is a viable solution to the Law of Loyalty later. The others are ignored.

In the Code Era and beyond, it's an accepted part of their culture. It's something talked about openly, framed as being taken by STRONGER warriors. Why would you go back to someone who was too weak to keep you?

That would be a terrible choice, so they say, because then you would be part of a worse Clan. It's a normalized part of their culture. So it's very rare that a Stolen Kit ever went back.

One less warrior for them. One more warrior for us.

This is as psychologically damaging as you think it is. "Honor Children" were notoriously violent to prove their loyalty. Their birth family would suffer guilt and pain for years, seeing them as adults and apprentices of other Clans, often stealing from other Clans themselves to fill empty nests and assure their own worth as warriors.

Parents and kits would die in these events. Kits trying to get home, parents laying down their lives to stop raids. Darkstar herself lost a sister, Aspentail, and still had two out of three of her nespring stolen. Only Perchpaw remained.

It was a long, bloody period in their history. The Queen’s Rights started a new era.

Fire Alone cats don't think it went far enough.

[youth-liberation-june]

youth liberationists don't talk enough about religious abuse and how it affects kids.

like, in general from what i see in the tag #religious abuse; literally almost only adult victims talking about their abused childhood.

but if they do, they only talk about blatant abuse in religious abuse: SA and physical.

07.30.24, edit: there's also “hidden” abuse, like literal abduction & indoctrination.

and it's just inhumane privilege allowing it. it's basic human indecency to abduct children, whoever the fuck you may be to the kid. especially to churches to convert them; OR to just keep them there, for whatever reason, for however long! it's indecent!

for me, i have PTSD from being heavily brainwashed with Christianity as a younger kid. but this is still a problem. this should be a crime.

we must—we will talk about this more. no one's free until everyone's free.

@anyone

@youth-rights @freeyouthnow @bingboop @immortalvipers @charles-le-sorcerer @that-bisexual @dragon-in-a-fez @self-loving-vampire @theconcealedweapon @your-dads-filing-cabinet @elhopper1sm @traumasurvivors @sparrow-the-tired-lesbian @witchyykitten @hellischange @teaboot @fnord888 @punkstylerecovery @neuroticboyfriend @liberaljane @confetti39x @hollow-keys @thedepressedweasel @agent-starbuck @cultsurvivorsafe @taviamoth @hyperlexichypatia @journeyofbell @motherofplatypus @wanderingandfound @vesankellot @furiousgoldfish @endoloris @wanhyutji @elierlick @childrensrightsrehumanrights @your-local-ruebit-hole-detective @aliceoseman @orxinus @meganebii-tables @youthrightsblog @characterhub-com @veryluckyclovers @gooseworx @therjpowell @tacodemuerte @ikoxun @soyboysel

[campgender]

i’d been contemplating rereading this pile of garbage for a couple months (didn’t wanna trigger myself before my wedding lol) but i’m really glad i waited until now because i can be like ‘oh tia levings & amy derogatis have taught me exactly what the fuck you���re doing.’

i mean, “children are master manipulators. don’t think they’re not manipulating you.” is not exactly subtle indoctrination, but that’s the point — by doing this whole shtick of ‘this book is gonna make you squirm, implementing these tactics will go against every fiber of your being, but you have to be strong enough to do what i say anyway,’ he’s trading on well-trodden christian patterns in addition to the advantage of seeming countercultural (because speakers like this go on & on about how countercultural they are)

it was incredibly striking to me how he describes “the teachable moment: the moment when reality enters the picture and makes an impact on the child’s mind and heart” in terms very similar to the “rock bottom” mandated by evangelical approaches to recovery (eg the whole AA genre), which itself was built from a certain framework of salvation.

it’s all part of the same project! so of course some scared evangelical parent is gonna be persuaded — threatened, really — to perceive their 4-year-old’s panic & trembling, as described in the example, as a necessary prerequisite to learning; that’s the only sequence of events they’ve ever been shown, in any context.

& they’re already pre-primed to doubt their emotions & impulses as sinful, so reiterating that in the sense of ‘don’t give in when you feel bad for your kid’ is an easy transition. like this book hasn’t mentioned god once yet but it is sooo thoroughly christian.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

"There are no religious children. Only children of religious parents." -- Richard Dawkins

-

"A transgender 3 year old is like a vegan cat. We all know who's making the lifestyle choices." -- Blaire White

[kendrixtermina]

To anyone who keeps claiming that equal rights for Palestinians or even a ceasefire is impossible because "they will kill us"

There has NEVER been such a case in history.

They did NOT kill all the euro-americans when slavery was abolished

They did NOT kill all the Afrikaners when Apartheid was abolished

They did NOT kill all Protestants when they stopped oppressing the Irish in Northern Ireland

Indeed in all cases a solution that ever lead to safety & peace was reached ONLY by negotiating with the "terrorists" and NEVER by bombing & repression.

It's claiming that bombing will bring safety that is irrational & naive.

If you're insisting the other side will be irrationally murderous despite all historical precedent, you're being racist.

Maybe question the way Israelis are essentially raised to be paranoid & told that everyone wants to kill them, and how that's arguably child abuse.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Exhaustion

Author’s note: this is the second part of Sirass’ backstory! First. Next. I hope you enjoy the fic!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: medical horror, child endangerment, child soldiers, child death, child abuse mention of brainwashing/indoctrination, Iron Warriors Aspirant Training, please ask me to tag something if it bothers you/I missed something

Summary: A look into the day of Aspirant Sirass, immediately post surgery.

Sirass woke up, as he did most days after his capture by the Iron Warriors, in pain. He gritted his teeth and breathed in through his nose, out through his mouth as he waited for the agony from the most recent surgery he’d been forced to endure. He heard a quiet sob from one of the other aspirants in the bunk above him. Part of him desperately wanted to reach out to his brother to try and comfort him… 

But Sirass was keenly aware of the fact that their captors were watching them most if not at all times. They saw compassion as a weakness. They saw kindness as pointless unless it was in service to manipulate others. If they were being watched, saying a kind word, or poking his head over the side of the other’s bed and trying to crack a joke, or offering a light touch to the shoulder or arm would get their entire squad beaten black and blue if they were lucky.

So Sirass forced himself to ignore the quiet sniffling and hiccupping from the occupant of the bunk above him, breathing through the pains of the surgery inflicted upon him. He’d been informed that it was another organ meant to make him stronger, better, faster. To turn him into an Astartes. He knew when the pain was at a level he could start to move at, as the aching, bone-deep ravening hunger in the empty pit his stomach had become started to gurgle and grumble.

The Iron Warriors aspirant looked at the chronometer and suppressed an annoyed sigh. He had an additional hour and a half before he and his squad would be collected for the morning meal…

Though to call the thick, porridge like substance filled with chalky vitamins and gods knew what else a meal was generous at best. It tasted awful, but it filled his belly up like nothing he’d ever eaten before. Sirass closed his eyes, muttering to himself the many if arbitrary seeming rules that he’d been told that sticking too would allegedly allow him to survive the trials ahead of him into becoming an Astartes.

Sirass didn’t necessarily want to become an Astartes, but he’d also been told that if he did survive and pass all of his trials, he would eventually be able to go back home. He might be able to see his mother again, which was the main hope driving him onwards. He’d heard over and over again how it was an honor for him and the others to be chosen to become Astartes. To Serve the Imperium of Man, to serve the Tyrant of Olympia in such a direct and honorable manner. Sirass privately thought that was a lot of groxshit, but he knew better than to say that out loud. 

Rebelliousness was severely punished. Dissension meant death - and often not just of the mouthy Aspirant who said unwise things, but those closest to his physical proximity. 

~

“GET UP YOU LAZY LAYABOUTS! IT IS TIME FOR FIRST MEAL AND TRAINING!” The training sergeant yelled as he kicked down the door, startling awake the nearly dozen aspirants who’d been sleeping in their bunk beds. 

There were startled sounds coming from the others, and Sirass had jumped in his bed as well, but he waited three seconds before getting out of bed, immediately turning to make it before standing at attention at the foot of his bed, hoping that he hadn’t bled through his bandages and sleeping tunic from the abdominal surgery he and the others had received yesterday. He’d be scolded for being messy.

The others slid out of bed at varying levels of coordinated and stumbling. The aspirant two bunks above him rolled off the edge of his bed and began to fall.

Sirass reacted on instinct, taking a half step forwards and catching the other before he could fall all the way to the floor, setting him on his feet as fast as possible, silently hoping that the training sergeant either didn’t notice, or didn’t care that had happened.

The training sargent swept past the two of them  without so much as a glare in their direction - which caused Sirass to let out a tiny sigh of relief, making sure to make as little noise as possible.

The brother he caught murmured a soft “Thank you!” Before going up on his tiptoes to make his own bed before standing at attention.

Two of the aspirants at the far side of the sleeping room hadn’t left their beds. They hadn’t even moved when the Sargeant had called for everyone to leave their bunks.

Sirass could understand why they didn’t want to move - his body ached from the surgery and he was so hungry he was shivering and felt a little weak at the knees and clammy. But such open defiance meant a beating.

The training sergeant stomped over to where the two unmoving aspirants were and looked at them both. There was a small sneer on his face “Weak. These two were week. Not enough Iron Within to handle the process. Cadet Sirass!”

“Yes sir!” Sirass called out, snapping a crisp salute the other’s way, ignoring the way that it tugged at his stitches.

“Lead this group of your brothers to the cafeteria. I will hold you personally responsible if anyone gets lost or the group loses discipline on the way to the grubhall. Understand?” The sergeant ordered.

“Yes sir.” Sirass acknowledged, swallowing hard. “You heard the sergeant. Everyone line up in two lines. Cadet Malix, you’re my second.” Several of the others looked at the unmoving Aspirants, but no one wanted to be accused of Questioning Orders and hurried to obey. That and Sirass suspected that they were just as hungry as he was.

~

The trip to the cafeteria was mercifully short and silent, though He had been forced to reprimand four of the others for trying to start an Unauthorized Conversation in the hallway of the massive ship they’d been training on. He wanted to know what was going to happen to the unmoving aspirants as they did, but as he was “in charge” of them, and cross-chatter wasn’t allowed in the hallways, he had been forced to maintain discipline. 

The hot sludge they were being fed today was greyer than normal, and the liquid that was too sweet-salty to be normal water was thicker as well. Sirass couldn’t find it within himself to care or wonder about the whys behind it, eating his position of food as quickly as possible. 

“I wonder why Umil and Shay weren’t moving… They’re going to be in trouble.” Malix murmured quietly, a worried frown on his face.

“They were the last ones out of surgery, yesterday.” Sirass responded quietly “And their surgeries took twice as long as ours. I don’t… I’m not sure…” While most of the time, if an Aspirant was going to die because of a surgery, they died on the table, not returning to the squad they’d been assigned to, from what SIrass had seen. But sometimes an Aspirant or two died in his sleep after being released from the butchers… Apothecaries… Who’d cut him open and shoved an additional organ inside of them before sewing them back up again.

“Ah. I… Oh.” Malix sighed, staring forlornly at his half-full bowl of sludge. 

“You need to finish eating. You know how they get when we don’t.” Sirass encouraged. “It’s best… Not to think about it. There’s nothing we can do.”

Malix huffed silently but nodded, morosely digging his spoon into the grey sludge, swallowing down another mouthful.  The two of them diligently watched over their remaining brother-aspirants for breakfast.

~

The only positives about the handful of weeks after a Surgery Day was that the physical training was less gods-awful, if only to ensure that they didn’t rip their stitches and bleed out over the training floors and waste the time and expense poured into them by the trainers and medical staff who were shaping them into astartes. The downside was during those weeks, they pushed the propaganda and indoctrination into How Amazing The Imperium Is and Serving The Imperium hard.

Sirass dutifully repeated the mantra of the Iron Warriors over and over again, to the beat that the training sergeant set, alongside his fellow aspirants. They would be doing this for another hour, before being told more Glorious Stories about the chapter, and the brilliance of their Primarch, Lord Perturabo. 

The more he learned about the incredibly powerful being, the less he ever wanted to be anywhere near the near-godlike being. He sounded equal parts tyrannical bastard and unholy terror, both in the forge and on the battlefield. All Sirass wanted was to be able to see his mother again, to apologize for not listening to her. He could still remember what she looked like, and the sound of her voice, at least…

He did most of the time. It scared him, the days when he forgot what his home had been like. To know that he couldn’t recall the color of his mother’s eyes. On those days he’d take out the purloined needle he’d taken and practice the stitches his mother had taught him on the blanket he had, or the inside of his clothing, making sure to undo it before anyone could see what he was doing. The needle wasn’t something he was allowed to have as an aspirant, and practicing a skill that would probably be seen as frivolous… Sirass did not want to be beaten for trying to remember the one person who had truly loved and cared for him.

Not in this place of blood and fear and misery. Sirass was fairly certain they were trying to beat all of the kindness and humanity out of him and his fellow aspirants. This one, small act of defiance was something that he was hoping he’d be able to have.

[venti-death-watch]

oh my god…. whatever is deeply wrong with clorinde is also deeply wrong with freminet……..

[1moremilgram-enjoyer]

It's eight in the fucking morning in my time zone Amane why

(T2) Q9: What does love mean to you?

Who asked that?! You knew it was going to go horrendously wrong! You had to have known how much emotional pain Amane would inflict by answering this!

Amane: To spread mercy without limits

audgsh bkh sahlmd0ifpm,<ADSXPXÑ

[Magic] But it’s not scary at all, because it’s love I can really think it’s great. See isn’t it a great thing?

"It" being, you know, getting punished and tortured.

Mercy. It's mercy. Being judged. Being punished. Because she's weak and sinful and horrible and an Animal and-

[Magic] Only if, only if, only if I could be a good girl I hope, I hope everyone can be happy and smile Forever, forever together would be a dream

Because Amane doesn't deserve happiness, does she? She doesn't deserve a second chance or an opportunity to change, because she's awful and horrible and how dare she want to eat cake, how dare she show compassion and put a little napkin on a cat's leg, how dare she get something wrong and not be perfect at all times and how dare she not know exactly what the people who love her so so much don't want her to do. Come on, she's fucking 12, surely she shouldn't make any mistakes ever no matter what.

[Purge March] If you become a bad girl, monsters will come out This is the magic that stops that from happening

Can't you see how horrible she is? If she eats cake or goes to an amusement park or dares to be a child, then horrible horrible things will happen. She's so ruinous and corrupt and sinful, can't you see the damage she causes?

That's why it's mercy, you see? Because if they punish her and teach her how wrong she is for having any desires of her own ever, then she can change and be better and be a good girl! See, she's such a good girl! She doesn't even complain when she's electrocuted and drowned and beaten and- because she knows running away from pain is sinful and horrible and how dare she want to be safe and healthy, but by getting punished she can change and become better! She can reach paradise! She has to live like this, she needs to repent for her sins, because she can't bear the thought of having regrets when she dies because she's always so close she needs to be good and now because what if the next time they don't pull her head out of the water until her heart stops beating-

They could give up on her entirely and just put down this sick animal like a cat, but they don't! Because they love her! See, they're merciful! Because they haven't given up on the horrible monster that *gasp* put a napkin on a cat's leg! That can only mean they're being merciful. They still have hope she can discard her entire personality and become the perfect little girl who never does anything wrong.

And she loves them too, you know. That's why she needs to show them when they're wrong. That way their souls can be saved. She can't hate, because hating someone is selfish and horrible and she doesn't deserve the ability to hate. To not punish them would be giving up on them, that wouldn't be very merciful, would it? So she needs to show them when they did something wrong.

Her mother killed a cat, she broke the rules, she broke her vows. She wasn't strong enough to control her urges. So now Amane needs to show her mercy by accepting her weakness and fixing her. And oh, what's this? She's begging Amane to stop? That's weakness too, you know, you're not supposed to run away from punishment. So Amane will have mercy on her by punishing her for that, too.

Maybe once she stops moving, she'll go to heaven instead of hell like the sinful blasphemer unforgiving monster unrepentant sadist Amane hates her so much die die die disappear she is. Isn't Amane just so merciful?

I have so many more thoughts. I just- I can't, I can't put them in order right now. I probably got things wrong in this manifestation of my sadness, I don't have the mental power to think properly right now. She's just- Amane, audhgigcmNULÑkl m

[im2tired4usernames]

You know if your church has an attitude that child education is a waste of time because God and revolutions is coming anytime and the world's just gonna end so the children don't need to waste time to know math and that you need to train them up right they just need to study the Bible and love God your church is lit just a dooms day cult and not even trying to hide it

[deservedgrace]

"Being victim to christian indoctrination is a personal failing bc there are people that were also exposed to christianity as a child and still didn't take on the views 🙄"

Were they exposed to other points of view? Did the adults in their life not take it very seriously? Was it taught as an option rather than fact? Were other people's faiths (or lack thereof) seen as valid and okay? Were they allowed to have relationships with people outside the church? Were they taught critical thinking skills? Were they allowed to develop their own morality? Were they allowed to research other viewpoints and come to their own conclusions? Were they not metaphorically dangled over the flames of hell every second of their life?

Being "exposed" to it and being forced into it to the point that your physical and emotional safety is at risk if you fall out of line are entirely different things. Did you go to church on Easter every year, or did the only people you were allowed to be around (which you had no say in) manipulate how you think and dictate your reality and morality and beliefs and undermine your ability to think critically so you wouldn't stray?

[inthefallofasparrow]

Who Are The Real "Groomers"? | SOME MORE NEWS

[artificer4396]

“We want to protect kids from indoctrination”, says the party that:

- argues in favor of hitting kids for “disrespect” [definition may vary]

- treats anyone who isn’t humping a flag 24/7 or has any complaints about the country as a traitor

- has no problem with kids pledging to said flag every morning at school, or the inclusion of “under god” in that pledge starting in 1954 as a direct result of the second Red Scare

[eldritch-queern-magicat]

I think that healing the system is less like just putting a jigsaw back together, and more like entirely creating a glass mosaic statue. It's because of how shattered we are. We were broken before we even had the chance to feel any sort of unity. We were turned against each other so quickly in foster care.

Nanny, our great-grandma, refined all the programming from the Pentecostals to be more like her beliefs (Seventh Day Church of God). It's because after we came back from foster care, she entirely took over our religious indoctrination. It was like this for probably just under six years, until I was about eleven. I think. The dates are incredibly fuzzy.

I think our best goal for healing is some kind of thriving, fluid multiplicity. We may always contain multitudes. That's ok. If we can find a way to consistently shift what we are to suit what we need to do along our personal standards of ethics, then I think we should. It's ok to have a fluid identity, like water. Don't silver roses reflect their surroundings, but remain themselves all the same?

-Annie ❓😺

[inquisimer]

softness did not serve me

A short piece for @febuwhump day 5, obedience. At Beraht's request, Nika puts the fear of the Carta into a new recruit.

read it on ao3 here

Female Brosca & Beraht | Rated T | 442 words | CW: torture, blood, child abuse, indoctrination

-

She was sharing a drink with Leske when the summons came. Beraht wanted to see her—not both of them, just her.

They both knew what that meant.

“Bet it’s that new kid,” Nika said. Kid, as if she’d passed more than fourteen cycles beneath the Stone herself. “She’s a little too vocal about Beraht’s style.”

She downed the last of her ale and headed out. Once, she might have made her boss wait; all the scars on her skin showed how he carved the inclination out of her. Now it was someone else’s turn to learn the same lesson.

When she arrived, Beraht pointed her toward the back room. A number of blades and whips and irons were already laid out on the table.

“You’re familiar with smart mouths,” he told her. “Shut hers up.”

The child tied up in the room was the new girl. Nika didn’t know her name. Such things weren’t important down here, not until you’d proven swift and cunning and clever enough to stay alive. She picked up a small dagger, the weight and grip of it familiar in her palm.

“Please,” the girl whimpered. She scooted back along the hard dirt floor, trying to get away as Nika approached. “Please, I won’t do it again.”

“Of course you won’t,” Nika smiled pleasantly, tapping the tip of her blade against the girl’s cheek. “We’re going to make sure of it.”

The girl cried out as Nika slashed the blade down, swift and clean. A thin line of red blossomed against her skin.

“Please,” she begged again. “Please you could just let me go. I’ll—I’ll tell them anything you want, I’ll say you did anything so you won’t get in trouble, please—“

Her face fell at Nika’s laugh.

“Oh, salroka,” she said, drawing out another whimper as she sliced through the other cheek. “There’s just no reason for me to help you.”

Slash, slice, slash.

The child whined and hissed and moaned, but her begging fell on deaf ears. It was really a favor, Nika mused, swapping the dagger for an iron she’d rested in the coals. The menacing, white-hot glow gleamed against the girl’s pupils, blown wide by fear.

Try to teach someone to survive in Dust Town and they’d be dead before any of the lessons took. But they all spoke the language of pain—she might hate Nika now, but she would survive later because of it.

Much like Nika had survived. Harder, colder, meaner—but alive. Wasn’t that all Rica had wanted for her?

“Please,” the girl whimpered. Nika shook her head.

“It’s the only way.”