Chapter 35

Stage two of initiation began as any other day would; I woke up, got dressed, had breakfast, and then awaited my initiates. However, while everything might've appeared to be the norm on the outside, internally I was still roiling with the new information I'd discovered the previous night.

Deceased, deceased, deceased; the single word kept replaying in my head. How was it possible? Already my life had turned into a web of lies and deceit, and this had only helped to further tangle my thoughts. There was too much to think about, too many loops and hidden agendas that I was still completely in the dark about.

"Follow me," I said when all of the initiates had gathered around.

Though they were all silent, I could feel the nervous energy that they emitted as they shuffled behind me. I could remember being in their shoes; this stage had been where I'd really run across problems, where I'd involuntarily shown –not only Amar– but also Banks that I was divergent.

Once we arrived at the dark hallway that led to the simulation room, I left them to go ahead and prepare the machine. While I'd initially thought Banks would've wanted to do this portion of the initiation personally, I was relieved when he'd instead said that he'd leave me to it.

"I have things to do," he'd said absently as his eyes got a far-away look to them. "You'll be in charge of this stage. Mind yourself though, I will be reviewing the recordings of the initiate's fears."

If I'd thought his words were cryptic before, well, it was nothing compared to what I thought now. All I could think was, who the hell was he? How I'd wanted to just stride over to him and shake him, demanding answers. But no, I'd held my composure and simply nodded.

Even now, as I sat prepping the syringes and fear simulation program, my thoughts kept flitting back to Banks. Dan and I had combed through various other folders, and even miscellaneous files in the computer, but other than that half-torn picture I'd found –there'd been no sign that Banks had ever existed.

With a sigh, I determinately pushed my confusion to the back of my mind. Right now, I had to concentrate; from what I'd read in Banks's computer, he still had high suspicions about Ally, Iris, and Wayne.

Once everything was set, I got up and made my way back to the room I'd left the initiates in. There was little chatter heard when I opened the door, and as soon as they saw my face, an immediate hush spread throughout their group.

"Zane," I said.

And so it began. To be honest, I hadn't the slightest clue how Amar had been able to stand it; how he'd been able to see other people's fears without feeling the need to stop the whole process.

Though he'd been cocky and arrogant -as usual- at the end of his simulation; Zane had left the room pale faced, with sweat trickling down his temples and his hands shaking. In his simulation, he'd been held above a pit of sweltering embers; left to slowly burn, his skin peeling away as he cried out for help.

Unwelcome empathy automatically filled my body as I watched uselessly from my own seat. Even though his personality rankled and irritated me, a voice inside my head kept telling me to do something. My initiate, my responsibility.

Before he left, I couldn't help but speak; I had to say something, even if it was banal, to settle his nerves.

"It's not real Zane. None of it is," I stiffly reassured him.

With a jerk of his head, he shakily snapped. "I-I know that."

After Zane, I called in Wayne; making sure to keep a sharp eye out for signs of divergence. I saw none. Or at least, none that were blatantly obvious. Once he'd finished his own simulation, though he hadn't been nearly as shaken up as Zane, Wayne still looked slightly perturbed.

"Hey, it's okay," I assured him as he continued to wipe at his arms. In his simulation, he'd been attacked by a swarm of angry bees. "Gone, they're gone."

He nodded, but even as he made his way out of the room I could see him absently wiping at his ears and neck; still feeling the phantom lingering's of the bee's legs on his body.

Vera, Tyler, Thomas, Shiloh, Mel, and Jade followed suit. And as they each suffered through their fears, I suffered along with them. It felt so incredibly intrusive to see such personal things. Worse, it ignited a sort of ire within me to know that I couldn't physically help them in any way; I could only observe.

Something I quickly became aware of was the fact that the fears I saw, though they were presented in odd ways, told a lot more about the initiates than I could've ever known by simply speaking to them. A prime example of still waters that ran deep had to be Jade.

I wasn't blind to the way she acted around everyone. Flirty, overconfident, crass, and completely unafraid, Jade had been the complete opposite as she'd been immersed in her fear. As slap after slap had rained down from a distorted-looking version of her father –whom I still remembered from their Visiting Day– Jade had keened and begged for mercy, for compassion. He'd shown none.

As she had finally managed to come out of the simulation, she shuddered violently. Then, only moments later, she took a series of deep breaths and then –to my surprise– gave me a grim smile; as if what had just happened were akin to a simple blunder.

"Is that why you chose dauntless, to get away from him?" I asked quietly.

"Maybe," she said coyly.

"Why didn't you say anything, why didn't you tell anyone what he was doing?" I asked in both horror and confusion.

"He's an esteemed lawyer back in candor. One of the best. That self-righteous bastard would've said I was lying. Who would've believed me?" She said darkly, a hint of a sneer on her lips.

"But the truth serum, they could've–"

"You don't know him the way I do," Jade shook her head. "He would've talked his way out of things before anyone would've even had the chance to doubt his character." She swallowed, and then added in a whisper. "I used to love candor." Then, seeming to have had enough, she hopped out of her chair and left; fists balled though her face was still set in an odd smile.

More than meets the eye. Everyone has secrets that'll haunt them throughout their days and nights.

Iris was next, and like Wayne, I was especially careful to note each and every little thing she did during her simulation. Her name was on the list, and if she was truly divergent, it was as good as a sentencing.

Unlike Wayne though, I immediately picked up on the fact that Iris was a ball of nerves. And it wasn't your average bout of anxiety that came from initiation, but something deeper; I could intuitively sense that she was hiding something. Could it be that Banks's suspicions about her were right?

Stiffly, she sat in the reclined metal chair and stared straight ahead as I injected the orange colored serum into her neck. I hadn't even turned on the program and already her nails were digging into the arm rests of the chair.

"Iris," I said, momentarily hesitating with my hand over the computer keys. How could I phrase my worries? If she really was divergent, would she even trust me enough to tell me the truth?

"Yeah?" she said, her voice tight yet unwavering.

"Careful in there," I said, lacing the slightest warning in my words. "I'm not the only one who's going to review your fear simulations."

She blinked, and in that second I saw something shift in her eyes. She seemed, not distrustful or suspicious, but there was a certain wariness that hadn't been there before. She nodded, and then opened her mouth as if to say more. I tensed, ready to see if she'd confide in me, but then just as abruptly she snapped it shut and gave me a quick nod.

As I pressed the keys on the computer, I was immediately thrust into Iris's fear. Already, I could feel that something was off, that something wasn't quite right.

When connected to another's fear simulation in this manner, it was possible to see all of their fears as if you were simply a spectator; one that they'd never be aware of. From having watched so many previous simulations, I'd come to expect the usual; which was that the initiate would awake, thinking that what was happening to them was a reality, and then they'd go on to try and get over their terror. All the while though, they'd be completely unaware of what was truly going on.

As Iris stood before a crowd of dauntless who had risen and began to shout obscene things, telling her that she wasn't good enough for their faction, she didn't appear as alarmed as I thought she might be. True, in the beginning she'd fled from the mob and told them to stop, but after some hesitation she paused and stared at each of the faces that surrounded her with an odd expression on her features; as if she were trying to piece something together.

"Get out! Go on and live with your kind, the factionless!" A man yelled as he suddenly picked up a stone and tossed it at her.

Iris dodged it, but still she continued to analyze the people around her.

"You don't deserve to be dauntless!" A different woman hissed. "You're not worthy enough to be in our faction!"

The insults kept coming, and as time passed, the horde of people grew angrier and angrier. Abruptly, it wasn't just one man that was throwing rocks, but the whole mass of dauntless citizens. Iris cried out in pain, but didn't run.

Gritting my teeth, I balled my fists as I watched the scene. Why wasn't she running, or fighting, or–

Unexpectedly, Iris did turn away from the crowd, but as she did so, I noticed that she was intently staring down at her feet. No, not her feet, but the floor in front of her. Where there'd once been the usual rock surface of the dauntless tunnels, there'd appeared a sort of metal trap door. That hadn't been there before, right? No, I was almost certain that it had been littered with pebbles and debris.

With a grunt, Iris worked to lift the latch as the dauntless people around her continued to throw rocks. Their insults grew, as did their attack, but that only seemed to make her work more furiously to lift the door. Blood was running down her face, and her skin was already bruising, but she remained determined. With a metal screech, she managed to lift it, and then without hesitation she leapt into its dark embrace.

With a gasp, Iris jerked up from the seat and held her hands out as if to shield her face from more oncoming stones. Divergent, she had to be divergent. I hastily removed the cables that were attached to my head, and then quickly placed a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched, but when she saw it was me, she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"Iris," What if I'm wrong? What if that door had already been there and I just hadn't noticed it? The setting her fear had taken place in had been dark. "You okay?"

"Umm, yeah, I just need to–" She took in a shaky inhalation, then tried to paste a look of tranquility onto her features. "Breathe."

"You got out of there pretty quick," I mentioned, noticing that she flinched ever so slightly when I said that.

"Did I?" She said, and I immediately caught the hint of pretense in her voice.

She was hiding something. I knew it. A cold feeling settled into my body, but I refused to believe it. This couldn't be, Iris could not be divergent.

"Yeah," I nodded as an idea struck. "So, it was kind of dark, huh? Everything happened pretty fast. Actually, I didn't really see just how you got out. Can you explain?"

"There was a trap door," she said quickly. "I opened it and climbed down."

"Huh, that's what I thought. Just wanted to be sure though," I said, narrowing my eyes as I studied her.

Why wasn't she confiding in me? Was it because she didn't trust me, considered me a danger to her life? Or… could it be that my paranoia had gotten to me? I sighed, and then led her to the door. Though I was now almost certain that she was divergent, I knew I'd have a concrete answer tomorrow; if she did the same thing, somehow altered the simulation, then I'd confront her.

I'd make her understand that I was on her side; that I wanted to keep her safe and out of Banks's radar.

We walked down the hallway in silence, but as I was about to open the door to let her out and call out the next name, Iris hesitated.

"Sage, we're friends right?"

"Do you even have to ask?" I answered. "Of course we are. Why do you ask? What's wrong?"

"It's just… " she broke off, staring at the door and then back at me. Seconds ticked by, but as they did, I could see Iris seem to change her mind. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong. That simulation just freaked me out."

"You sure that's it?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. "You have nothing else to tell me?"

"That's it," she smiled hesitantly. Deceit; my inner lie-detector screeched. She's hiding something. Don't be stupid. That door want' there, she made it. She's divergent.

"Yeah, they're pretty bad," I agreed after a silent pause; trying to hide the disappointment in my voice. I thought she'd been about to confess, to trust me. "But you'll be fine. You're strong and brave."

"Thanks," she said, and as she made her way out the door, I made a mental note to review her fear simulation more closely.

What if I was wrong? My instilled candor roots made it near impossible for someone to get something past me, but what if I'd lost some of the potency of that skill –the ability to tell lie from truth– as the year had gone by.

Fresh from candor, I wouldn't have hesitated to trust my gut. However, things had changed. I didn't want to confront Iris unless I was one-hundred percent sure that she was divergent. Perhaps she'd been hiding something else? Tried to not show fear, as she usually did, because she didn't want to appear weak?

Subtly shaking my head, I called out the next names; Felix, Edmund, Dylan, and then David, until the only person left was Ally.

Another grip of fear filled my body and made my heart feel as if it had been given a sharp stab. Ally was the other name on Banks's list. But unlike Iris and Wayne, Banks didn't have mere suspicions, but an almost complete certainty.

And he's right; I thought with horror. Because deep down, I'd known that Ally was different from the moment I'd laid eyes on her.

I couldn't lie to myself; I'd observed her far too closely to not see that signs. She was gentle and kind, inquisitive and smart, brave and daring. She was everything, a perfect balance, and that made her prey in Banks's eyes. It made her a target. The wonderful, yet dangerous, balance of traits; it could only mean one thing.

Voice cold and hollow, feeling as if I were about to speak a death sentence, I called out the final name on my roster.

"Ally."