The news broadcast was taking place on the top floor of the Hub, one hundred and ten floors above ground. It was, as far as I knew, the top of the world.

We didn't actually know that Oona and Sherlock were there, but that was where all of our newscasts were recorded. Candor, Erudite, and Abnegation typically worked there together, so it would make sense that Jeanine would send two new Candor members up there to send a message of peace, faction unity, and patriotism. It was also high up enough that neither Oona nor Sherlock would be able to see the future bloodshed in the plaza, much less recognize faces in the crowd. What we did know was that the Dauntless were concentrated in the twenty floors above and below the server room, where Erudite was controlling the army. The rest of the building, minus the top floor, was vacant.

So we took the elevators.

Despite the Abnegation's preference of stairs, there were many elevators in the Hub. Most were closed. One of these was a cargo elevator that ran down to the basement. The Erudite laughed at the idea of a bunch of pious Abnegation hotwiring the elevator back onto the power grid and trying to escape through an empty elevator shaft that went nowhere but up, so it was unguarded. Caleb reported that, in the case that one of us was smart enough to get it working but dumb enough to try it anyway, all of the exit doors for the bottom forty floors were guarded by Dauntless. Which was alright, because we weren't going there.

Caleb and some of the willing Erudite had done the hotwiring part, then sniffed indignantly and told us that we were going to our deaths. Erudite weren't ones for thinking positive. Wherever my mother had gotten her gun, there was only one, so she and I went alone. As we stood together in the elevator, silent except for the creaking of ancient pylons and gears, it did feel like dread. Maybe we were going to our deaths.

I hugged my mother, long and tight.

We didn't speak.

We got off on the second to last floor. The place was cold and pitch dark, but clear of Dauntless. We took the last flight of stairs up, careful not to make a sound, and I pressed myself tight against the wall as my mother picked the last lock. She touched my hand. Then we kicked the door in.

Two Dauntless were by the stairwell. Mom shot them without hesitation, a spray of bullets that deafened my ears.

Another Dauntless charged and I raised my gun, but my hands were shaking too much. I missed. Mom shot him, too, and he slumped lifeless against the wall by the studio door. Mom dug his ID card from his chest pocket. Though it was covered in blood, the door still opened.

The studio was brightly lit, the windows overlooking the dark city. Only five people were inside—three Erudite, Oona, and Sherlock. Oona was wearing a pretty white dress. One of the Erudite had been fixing her hair. Sherlock sat in a chair in the corner, though when we came in, he stood up.

"Get down!" Mom yelled. "I don't want to hurt you! Hands in the air, get down to the ground!"

It scared me to see my mom like that. But I raised my gun with her, and I tried to swallow the nausea in my throat when my friends and the Erudite looked at me in terror.

"Phoebe?" said Sherlock. I met his eyes, green and frightened.

There was a young Erudite near him. In a split second, she pulled a gun and fired behind me.

My mom cried out. Red burst from her hip, and she was only able to fire the gun twice more. The Erudite woman went down. Then, so did my mother. "Mom!" I screamed, but then someone shoved me from behind, and as I crashed to the ground all I saw was white. Lace. Long dark hair.

Oona stumbled to the wall, reaching for the glass case around the fire alarm. I got up.

"Oona, stop!"

She turned.

"Or what?" she snapped. "You'll shoot me, too?"

Mom was at my feet, struggling to rise. "Mom, get out of here," I said.

"I'm not leaving you," she replied.

"Don't protect her," said Oona.

"She's my mother—"

"She killed someone."

Oona's head jerked to the open door. A Dauntless' limp hand lay there. Against the wall, the two other Erudite cowered, shivering, staring at the body of the third Erudite. The blood on the white floor. My mother gasped in pain, struggling to pull herself away from us. I wanted to tell her, Go. I wanted her to run.

Time had slowed, leaving only me and Oona.

"She's killed thousands," said Oona. Tears streamed down her face. "And you stand there, defending her."

I held out my empty hand. My gun dropped to my side, though I didn't let it go. "If you pull that alarm, thousands more will die. Innocent people."

"You don't know what you're saying."

"I do. I know because I saw it. But they're trying to make you tell the city that it's not real. We can't let them get away with this."

"With enforcing the law?"

"Judge Touma is down there, Brighton and Ravi are down there, they don't deserve to die—"

"Brighton is there?" said a soft voice.

I turned. Sherlock was standing in the middle of the room, his shoes in a pool of blood. He had gone to the Erudite woman's side, but now he was frozen, staring at me. He was thinner than I remembered. Even when he was undressed in the Grand Courtroom, I hadn't noticed how sickly he looked. How little he resembled the shy, brave, cheerful kid who followed me into an attic.

"Sherlock," I stammered, "Erudite is lying to you. They're trying to make you lie to the city."

"Judge Morris asked for this broadcast," he said blankly.

"He's lying, too. Those people down there, they aren't criminals, Erudite wants to kill them all for speaking their minds. That's not justice."

"Don't listen to her," Oona snapped. "Justice—lying—hah! Like we'd trust you after all you did."

"All I did?"

"Don't you dare play dumb. Don't you fucking dare."

Oona curled her fist and smashed it into the glass, reaching for the fire alarm. I raised my gun. Both hands. Stance set. I wasn't shaking anymore.

Behind me, a second gun clicked. I didn't even have to turn to know. I saw it in the window reflection, a ghost among the city lights, Sherlock pointing the fallen Erudite's gun at me. He knew how to hold it. I wondered where he'd learned.

"Don't hurt her," Sherlock stammered. I didn't lower the gun, but I did move slowly to the side, putting Sherlock, my mother, and Oona all within my field of vision.

"I only want to talk," I said slowly.

Oona curled her fist to her chest, blood running down her wrist. Her other hand rested on the lever.

"You didn't hear it?" she asked. "You didn't hear any of it?"

Her Full Unveiling.

No.

I hadn't.

Her voice was manic. High, wobbling.

"I spoke to you," she sobbed. "I asked you questions. I've been so scared for you. I couldn't see your face, I couldn't know if you were listening. All I could do was hope. And then when you got up there, I waited for an answer, but you didn't give it—you just went on and on about how angry you were, how much you wanted change, you didn't answer any of it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear much of anyone's, I tried, but—"

"But all you could think about was yourself? Like all Divergent, huh?" Her bloody fist clenched, and her whole body winced. "Not once thinking that—that change isn't always a good thing? That's what I asked, can you answer? Whatever you think you're doing, is it for peace?"

"Oona—"

"Yes. The people out there, they'll die today," she said. "Maybe our friends. Maybe not. But it doesn't matter. They're calling for a change that will cause the deaths of thousands more."

"You don't know that."

"Peace and justice, gone. Just anarchy."

"Rebirth," I said. "You can't get peace from an execution."

Oona's fingers tightened around the lever. I gripped my gun. Across from me, Sherlock raised his higher—the little black eye level with my face. Between them, Mom, breathing heavily. She shook her head slowly. Sherlock rested his finger on the trigger.

Then he turned to Mom and fired three shots.

She swept the hair trimmings away.

Her eyes caught mine in the mirror, and she smiled.

There was a sadness somewhere.

She was already on the ground when he shot her, struggling on her hands and knees. One shot to her shoulder. Two to the middle of her back. She fell.

Sherlock turned to me. He hadn't even lifted the gun again before I shot him. Three times. Like target practice. Right in the X between the eyes. His body hit the ground, and I felt nothing. The alarm was going off and I didn't hear. I was already at my mother's side.

"Mom," I screamed. "Mom!"

I bent over her body, unable to move. Only to cry.

When the Dauntless came, I did not fight.

A/N: Apologies for the harsh ending but

IT'S HERE!

last week I got the printed version of Transcendent in the mail. it is absolutely beautiful. you can find it on my tumblr, saltwaffle, under the Transcendent tag.

thank you guys for the patience. we are coming up close to the end and i am very excited to share it with you. please let me know what you think!