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you can take nothing of this life with you

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You will come into this with the best of intentions.

Love of country. Love of justice. Love of self—or at least the image you have of yourself.

You're going to be a hero.

You're not going to be a hero.

You will die here, forgotten, and no one will hear the words echoing in the inside of your skull except for yourself.

You'll tell yourself it's worth it. This is a lie.

You will be tempted to help others. Sometimes this can be done without endangering your cover. Never can it be done without endangering yourself.

Sometimes, to stay sane, you must do it anyway.

Things they will not tell you:

It will last too long. Even a day in this life is too long.

You will trust the wrong people. You're here, aren't you?

If you tell a lie long enough, it may become the truth. It's becoming the truth.

Something to tell yourself in hopes it becomes true:

You're going to be a hero.

You're being a hero.

You're a hero.

You won't die here.

You may get attached.

Not to the Designated Mate—never to the Designated Mate—but to the people around you.

The other beauties you think you can help.

The beauties you know you can't, but try to anyway.

The child the Designated Mate gives you.

It's not your child. It belongs to him. Don't get attached.

You can take nothing of this life with you.

When another beauty comes, don't help her.

When another beauty comes, she is a threat.

When another beauty comes, defend your child.

Let her die here instead.

You've been here too long.