A/N: So this may be my last one-shot of Eric's for a little while? I have been getting back into my other stories and such, but writing in his point of view has given me so much inspiration—it's nice to feel like I have the drive to write again, instead of constant writer's block! Your reviews are lovely as always, I appreciate them dearly! I hope you enjoy this one as well!

The Dauntless cafeteria grows silent as I enter the room. I have just come back from a meeting with Max, discussing the training curriculum for the new initiates and Dauntless-borns.

But I have come here for one particular reason.

I spot Four, sitting at the edge of a table—his transfer initiates sit at the same table, fairly close but not close enough. I notice, however, he is speaking to two of them. One of them, is the Stiff from Abnegation—the first jumper.

I must say, her bravery was most respected earlier today. She could make a name for herself here, but I doubt Dauntless needs another transcendent Stiff. I could certainly do without a second.

I help myself to the seat beside Four. He looks at the table.

"Well, aren't you going to introduce me?" I ask, keeping my voice as friendly as possible. Four gives me a look.

"This is Tris and Christina," he says plainly.

"Ooh, a Stiff," I smirk, as if I couldn't already tell by the looks of her... Four looks as tense as a coiled spring; oh the things I could spill about you, Eaton. Your hiding spot would be revealed, and everyone would finally see you for the coward you are. Your four fears would be the last thing people remember about you if they only knew why you were really here. "We'll see how long you last," I tell her.

I see Four's fingers twitch into and out of fists, he is angry.

"What have you been doing lately, Four?" I ask. I think I may already know... with all of these irregularities in his job performance lately—perhaps he's not as loyal to this faction as everyone believes he is. Gus, his manager down in security, has brought it to my attention that he has been unnecessarily isolating footage in the rotations. Very interesting... "Max tells me he keeps trying to meet with you, and you don't show up. He requested that I find out what's going on with you."

Max never tells me why he wants to meet with Four, and that is not a good sign to me. I already know that Max would prefer Four's place in my position, however, they both know that I am not willing to give it up without a fight. I don't understand why Max would prefer him over me anyways—Four is for the least effective methods of training. He believes Dauntless is too brutal now. But as I recall, Dauntless believe in strength. We believe in training soldiers, not cowards at the face of combat.

"Tell him I'm satisfied with the position I currently hold," Four says, his voice unwavering.

"So he wants to give you a job," I thought so.

"It would seem so," Four retorts with a shrug. I never did understand why he chose such a low rank job, when he could have had my position. He was ranked first, but decided to work in a security office and to train the transfers during initiation. He fights me on my rules constantly, but he has no place to do so when he turned down the opportunity to have things his way when it was presented to him.

"And you aren't interested."

"I haven't been interested for two years," he sounds bored. Four is only interested in trying to overrule me when it benefits him best.

"Well," I say, "Let's hope he gets the point, then." I clap him on the shoulder, a little too hard. I will happily let Max know that I will remain his most trusted leader, seeing as Four claims he has no interest in fulfilling it himself.

xXxXx

I lead the initiates down a series of hallways. They chatter amongst themselves quietly, voices echoing off the stone walls. I lead them toward the transfers' dorm, stopping just before the door.

"For those of you who don't know, my name is Eric," I start, "I am one of five leaders of the Dauntless. We take the initiation process very seriously here, so I volunteered to oversee most of your training." I would prefer they learn my methods, and not just Four's.

Speaking of Four. This is usually his job, showing them around, but tonight he is working in the security room. So the initiates have me tonight.

"Some ground rules," I say, "You have to be in the training room by eight o'clock every day. Training takes place from eight to six, with a break for lunch. You are free to do whatever you like after six. You will also get time off between each stage of initiation. You are only permitted to leave the compound when accompanied by a Dauntless. Behind this door is the room where you will be sleeping for the next few weeks. You will notice that there are ten beds and only nine of you. We anticipated that a higher proportion of you would make it this far."

"But we started with twelve," the Candor protests. She speaks as though I had control over their making it to the compound.

"There is always at least one transfer who doesn't make it to the compound," I say, picking at a cuticle. I couldn't care less about a transfer who didn't make it—it just proves they were too weak, and would either not make the cuts, or die from exhaustion. Dauntless is better off without them. I continue, now that the Candor's outburst has been answered, "Anyway, in the first stage of initiation, we keep transfers and Dauntless-born initiates separate, but that doesn't mean you are evaluated separately. At the end of initiation, your rankings will be determined in comparison with the Dauntless-born initiates. And they are better than you are already. So I expect—,"

"Rankings?" For a moment, I believe it is the Candor who cuts me off again, and my blood boils. I realize it is one of the Erudite transfers, however. She still shouldn't be talking over me. "Why are we ranked?"

I would already place a bet that she won't make it—same with the Stiff. I smirk, "your rankings serve two purposes," I say, "The first is that it determines the order in which you will select a job after initiation. There are only a few desirable positions available." Government jobs—anything beneath those is worthless. The Dauntless can guard the fence, but who wants to stare out into a wasteland all day. We are the only ones left, after all.

Minor jobs include tattooing for a living, and fight performing for entertainment. Guarding the city is another, more of a major job than a minor, but still not a leadership or government position.

"The second purpose is that only the top ten initiates are made members." Silence.

"What?" The Candor girl cries. Only ten make it, I really don't understand their confusion...

"There are eleven Dauntless-borns, and nine of you," I say simply, "Four initiates will be cut at the of stage one. The remainder will be cut after the final test."

"What do we do if we're cut?" The other Candor, Peter his name is, asks.

"You leave the Dauntless compound and live factionless." Unless you're a Dauntless-born... you have the option to go back home, you just won't have a good job...

"But that's...not fair!" The other Candor cries out, shaking her head. What is it with these Candors and their confusion... not even close to the mind's of Erudites. "If we had known—,"

"Are you saying that if you had known this before the Choosing Ceremony, you wouldn't have chosen Dauntless?" I test her. Sounds like a faction traitor already... "Because if that's the case, you should get out now." I snap, giving them a firm look, "If you really are one of us, it won't matter to you that you might fail. And if it does, you are a coward."

I kick open the dormitory door behind me, and step aside, "You chose us... now we have to choose you."