Vasilisa stood before the cat, her eyes burning with defiance. The room was heavy with tension,

  the air thick with the weight of their unspoken understanding. She was no longer the helpless

  woman who had been thrown into this foreign realm, bound by fate and the cruel hands of

  others. Now, she was something else—something more. Something that would not bend, would

  not break, no matter the cost.

  “How will this happen?” she asked, her voice steady but filled with a raw intensity. “This is not

  Earth. Here, women rise to wield weapons to cook or to kill themselves. You said before, I am

  not a vessel. I am a key. If they want a man, I will be a man. Train me. Enlighten me. I promise

  you, for revenge.”

  The cat, whose very essence had always been one of power and manipulation, looked at her with

  a mixture of disbelief and disdain. His golden eyes narrowed, his tail flicking impatiently. “You

  are being foolish,” he said, his voice dripping with derision. “Even when you were on Earth,

  your ego and carelessness brought you to your demise. But darling”—he leaned closer, his tone

  dark and full of warning—“this time, there ain’t no cat coming to grant you another life.”

  Vasilisa’s lips curled into a half-smile, cold and fierce. She met the cat’s eyes without flinching,

  her words carrying the weight of a queen’s command. “I said, train me. Enlighten me.”

  For a moment, the cat said nothing, as if contemplating her defiance. His golden eyes studied

  her, his mind working through the implications of what she was asking. To train her? To make

  her a weapon?

  The very thought seemed laughable to him, and yet, there was something in her gaze that made

  him pause. She wasn’t a naive girl anymore. She had a fire that would not be extinguished. For

  all her arrogance, there was something real in her—something that even he could not ignore.

  Finally, he spoke, his voice cold but resigned. “You want to play this game? Fine. But know this:

  I am not your savior. I am not here to coddle you. You’re making a grave mistake.”

  He turned to the servant, Mikhail, standing by the door. “Prepare her. Teach her everything she

  needs to know. Let her become what she desires.”

  And so it began.

  Months passed in a blur of harsh training and relentless lessons. Vasilisa’s body was tested to its

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  limits, her mind pushed past every boundary she had once known. She trained like a soldier,

  fought like one, and learned to think like one. Every weapon, every strategy, every tactic was

  drilled into her with a precision that left no room for doubt.

  The cat’s words echoed in her mind every day: This time, you are on your own.

  But with each passing day, Vasilisa grew stronger. Her muscles hardened, her reflexes

  sharpened, and her mind became a deadly weapon, calculating every move, every step. She was

  no longer just a woman, not in the sense that they had tried to define her. She was something

  more—something powerful.

  As the final test approached, Vasilisa stood before Mikhail, the man who had been her reluctant

  trainer and companion through these six months of grueling discipline.

  “You’re ready,” Mikhail said, his voice low, but filled with a certain respect for the woman she

  had become.

  “I’m ready to kill,” Vasilisa replied, her eyes steely with determination. “To survive. To fight.”

  Her mission was simple, yet terrifying. She was to go to the Western Bang, fight alongside the

  Eastern army, and return alive. Her survival was paramount. But there was one condition—she

  had to do it without anyone knowing that she was a woman. To do so would mean certain death,

  a fate worse than anything she could imagine.

  And so, she prepared. The cat’s presence loomed in the background, his eyes ever-watchful, but

  Vasilisa no longer cared for his judgment. She had made her choice, and now she would face the

  consequences. Her resolve was clear. No matter what it took, she would not die.

  She would rise, not as the vessel they had wanted her to be, but as the key to her own destiny.

  She would unlock the power she had within her, and she would use it to take what she wanted—

  revenge.

  As the night descended and the final preparations were made, Vasilisa’s heart beat with the

  steady rhythm of war. She was no longer a prisoner to fate, nor to the cat, nor to the king. She

  was the master of her own destiny.

  And in the quiet, as she set off toward the Western Bang, the cat’s final words echoed in her

  mind:

  You are playing a dangerous game, Vasilisa. But it’s your game to lose.

  With a final glance at the distant horizon, Vasilisa vanished into the night, ready for the battle

  that would define her fate.