No hallucinations of myself appeared to tell me otherwise, or agree, but I could hear the voice of my own various identities as clear as day inside my head. Their message was unanimous. Who fucking cared if it was a trap. A slim chance was better than no chance, and stuck in the cell? Strapped to the bed while Chase raped me, burned me, drowned me, choked me? There was no chance there. So... screw it. Escape or die trying.
