Now we're in Tris's head after that tour in Eric's mind last chapter.

After lunch, Four leads us to a new room. It's huge, with a concrete floor that has rust stains and it has a large platform in the middle. On the left wall is a chalkboard. I wonder when technology would come into place but probably not until the second stage.

Our names are written on the board in alphabetical order. Hanging at three-foot intervals along one end of the room are large orange punching bags. Eric is leaning against one of them. Smirking unsettlingly as he did like last night.

"I overlooked the Dauntless-born with Lauren this morning, and as I said yesterday," he begins, straightening his posture until he's not leaning against the punching bag, "they have a better chance of passing initiation then the lot of you. Though, let's see if some of you can prove me wrong."

He looks at Naomi – who goes by Nomi now – and I as he says the last sentence, accentuating the challenge I can sense in his words. And the heat reaches my face. He thinks we won't make it. There are more Erudite and Candor than Abnegation here. I clench my fists. We'll make it.

I'll make it.

"As I said this morning," says Four, "next you will learn how to fight. The purpose of this is to prepare you to act; to prepare your body to respond to threats and challenges – which you will need, if you intend to survive life as a Dauntless."

"Today, you will first learn about fighting techniques and tomorrow you will start fighting each other," explains Eric. "I highly recommend that you pay attention as Four demonstrates. Unless you want to find yourself being carried to the infirmary tomorrow."

Four names a few different punches, demonstrating each one as he does, first against the air and then against the punching bag.

I catch on as we practice. Like with the gun, I need a few tries to figure out how to hold myself and how to move my body to make it look like his. The kicks are more difficult, though only he teaches us the basics. The punching bag stings my hands and feet, turning my skin red, and barely moves no matter how hard I hit it.

A few bags beside me, I that Nomi gets a hand on it as well. Only her bag is moving a little more than mine.

Four wanders through the crowd of initiates, watching as we go through the movements again. While Eric paces behind us, like a lion waiting for his prey.

After watching Nomi for a minute, Four walks over and stops in front of me, my anxiety increases. He stares at me, like he's analyzing my movements as I punch the bag with all the force I could muster.

"You don't have much muscle," he says, "which means that you are better off using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them."

Suddenly he presses a hand to my stomach. My heart pounds so hard my chest hurts, and I stare at him, wide-eyed.

"Never forget to keep tension there," he says in a quiet voice. Four lifts his hand and keeps walking. For a moment, it's like I see Eric gaze at our direction before turning to inspect Al. I feel the pressure of his palm even after he's gone. It's strange, but I have to stop and breath for a few seconds before I can keep practicing again.

Four dismisses us, but Eric steps forward. "If you follow me, I have something to show you at the other end of the room before you go off on your merry way."

He leads us to the blank board that's on the other end of training room. Away from all the punching bags. It's like the one that's in our dormitory. "Gather around," he prompts as I feel the anticipation grow around me. "I want to tell you more how we do the cutting system."

Eric presses a button at the side of the board, and I see the names slowly fill the screen. Of the thirteen transfers, nine are above a red line. My name is on the third to bottom, with Nomi one row above me. Tony – one of the Erudite transfers – has his name is on the second to last slot before Al's. It's a scoreboard of some sort.

"Know what this board is?" Eric asks us. "It's your life. We grade you every day. Depending how the Dauntless-born fare, only two or all four of you below the red line would have to leave after stage one. As I said, let's see if one of you can surprise me."

He leaves us with a uncomfortable silence before we disperse from the training room slowly.

"I never thought you'd be under the red line," Ally mentions to Al as the four of us leave for the Pit. "You did pretty decent on the punching bags. Not to mention you have the build."

"Maybe he can see that…." Al shakes his head. "Never mind. I mean, it's only the first day."

I don't get a chance to think what he said when he asks rather awkwardly, "Are you all for getting a tattoo? I want one."

Will asks, "A tattoo of what?"

"I don't know." Al laughs. "I just want to feel like I've actually left the old faction. Stop crying about it."

When we don't respond, he adds, "I know you've heard me."

"Yeah, learn to quiet down, will you?" Christina pokes Al's thick arm. "I think you're right. We're half in, half out right now. If we want all the way in, we should look the part."

She gives me a look.

"No. I will not cut my hair," I say, "or dye it a strange color. Or pierce my face."

"How about your bellybutton?" she says.

"Or your nipple?" Will says with a snort.

I groan.

"The reason the Dauntless are all tattooed and pierced up is to show how they can withstand the pain," Ally mentioned. "Personally, I'm not up for a tattoo yet, but I am game for dying my hair."

In the end, I wind up having a flock of ravens on my chest. Each representing the family I left behind.

Early the next morning, while everyone is still asleep (I see that Nomi is not in her bed), I hastily change into the plain black training clothes and begin to leave the dormitory.

I've only been here for two days now, so it takes some time for me to find the second training room. Opening the door, I see that there is someone else there.

Of course, Nomi probably has the same idea as I did. We both have the same odds as of right now. She's probably only been here for a few minutes, as she's barely gleaming in sweat. She doesn't notice me until a few minutes later when I approach the orange bag next to her.

"Want to get above the red line too?" she asked.

"Yeah," I say.

Nomi looks like she wants to say something, but instead nods. What is there to say, anyway? It's not like we spoke, as she kept to herself, only hanging around her twin brother Nathan. Who had transferred to Amity. You'd think that being the only two Abnegation here, the two of us would stick close together in this place, but we aren't. Nomi seems to favor the company of Edward, Myra, Tony, and Ally's cousin Vi – all of them former Erudite like Will.

I don't know why it should bother me. After all, Will is from Erudite and he seems like a decent guy and it's not like Nomi and I were friends back in Abnegation. Perhaps it's the fact that one of her Erudite friends is literally the daughter of Jeanine Matthews, who's behind every report against Abnegation like the one against her father. What's she trying to prove to them?

Except that Ally is literally Jeanine's niece, and I have hung out with her yesterday. How does that make me any better?

I shake my head. No, I'd rather not think about that. Trying to understand it makes my head hurt. So, I position myself like I did yesterday. Trying to keep the tension in my abdomen as Four told me.

The bag sways a little more than yesterday, but not like I have seen the other bags sway from the punches of the other stronger initiates.

Not like Nomi's punching bag. I take a look as I regather my bearings before resuming to beat my own bag. It seems that she has a lot of anger in her the way the bag wants to rip from the chain tethering it to the ground. Maybe it was the report against her father? That makes sense to me.

I don't pay attention that the door to the training room opens. Though the feeling that someone is watching us causes me to turn.

Eric is standing a few feet away from us. Part of me expects him to demand why we're here and not at breakfast. Though he probably would if it weren't for the amused smirk he was wearing.

"Well, well, an ambitious pair of Stiffs, I see," he drawls. That catches Nomi's attention as she turns while Eric continues, "The two of you could be wallowing your own pity of being cut, but this is better."

"I don't want my name to be under the red line," I say at little flippantly than I should. Before I realized what I have done.

Nomi says nothing, though she holds herself in the same guarded stance as Four did when I saw Four and Eric interact. As if staying silent is the best course of action. Something that I did until now.

He doesn't seem fazed by my flippant remark, for some reason. I'd think that he wouldn't expect someone from Abnegation to snap at him.

"No one wants to go to the factionless slums, trust me." He advances towards us. "As I said yesterday, one of you was bound to surprise me. Seems like the odds of that are high now, don't you think?"

"Like you know how we lived before coming here," Nomi demands, apparently not wanting to be silent anymore. As if there was something about Eric's words that had pushed her over the edge.

"What's going on in here?"

Four. I feel myself slouch as I saw him walk toward us. Fists clenched as he glared at Eric. "What have these two done to you for them to antagonize them in this time in the morning?"

"There's nothing antagonistic about noting their potential, Four," Eric shoots back.

Four raises his eyebrow. "Noting their potential," he repeats as if Eric wasn't making sense. "When you made it clear that you will sit back and watch as the weaker initiates struggle while you build up the stronger one's."

Blood rushes to my face as I glare at Four. I'm not weak and I'll prove that I'm not weak.

Nomi wouldn't be either. Glancing at her, she doesn't seem affected by this insult to her. It's as if she expected it.

"I acknowledge good potential when I see it," says Eric, smirking. "Even if it's from a pair of Stiffs who I didn't think would make it. Even if one of them was more likely to get the fourteenth slot then her."

"Um, I think we should go," Nomi whispers to me. "I don't think I want to get in the middle of this one."

I don't argue as we slip away and leave Eric and Four to it. What did Eric mean by Nomi being more likely to get the fourteenth slot over me? When our odds would be relatively the same to him?

Nothing seems to be making sense anymore since when Eric stepped into the training room.

"What were you doing this morning?" asks Christina during breakfast. "I thought I saw you and Nomi gone from your beds when I woke up."

I pick my muffin, and look at her. "Just practicing some punches. That's all."

I don't tell them about our encounter with Eric. Part of me still doesn't understand it, as yesterday, he made it clear he did not expect me to last. That he didn't expect Nomi to last. Is this some game he was playing?

Hoping to raise the bar for us more than the others so he could watch us struggle? That makes more sense to me.

"Hopefully you didn't spend too much of your energy, because we are expected to fight this morning," says Christina.

"Trust me, I recovered some of it by resting," I reply, before finally taking a bite out of my muffin.

Christina, Will, Ally, and I are the first initiates to enter the training room. I see that Eric is standing in the corner smirking while Four's back is turned, as he writes on the chalkboard.

"Since there are thirteen of you, one of you won't be fighting today," says Four, stepping away from the board in the training room. He gives me a look. The space next to my name is blank.

The knot in my stomach just partly unravels. One hand it's a reprieve. On the other hand, I feel like Four isn't giving me a chance to try and hold my own in a fight. I had really wanted to show Eric that I have a shot at this, even if I was to lose badly today.

"This isn't good," says Christina. "I'm up against the Tank."

"The Tank?" I find Christina's name on the board. Written next to it is "Molly."

"Yeah, Peter's slightly more feminine-looking minion," she says, nodding toward the cluster of people on the other side of the room. Molly is a tall like Christina, but that's where the similarities end. Her skin is lighter like mine, and she has shoulder length curly hair.

"Those three" – Christina points at Peter, Drew, and Molly in turn – "have been inseparable since they crawled out of the womb, practically. I hate them."

Will and Al stand across from each other on the platform. They put their hands up by their faces to protect themselves, as Four taught us, and shuffle in a circle around each other.

"Mind if one of you is up for practicing some moves while we wait for our turn?" Ally asks, looking at either Christina or I.

"No, I don't want to get bruised up before my fight with Molly," Christina retorts.

"Not like what's going on the platform." Ally shakes her head. "It's not like we need to bruise each other anyway. Besides, what's the use stand and watch when we should warm up?"

Looking around, I see that the other initiates are not just standing around watching Will and Al. Myra and Nomi seem to be blocking the other's light punches. Maybe doing some moves to warm up before our fights would not be a bad idea.

"I say you take on Ally's offer," Christina suggests. "You're not fighting today. After all, you are one of those with the less odds."

What is it with people thinking I might not make it in initiation?

Ally and I block lighter punches then the ones that we threw on the punching bags yesterday, though I manage to use my periphery to see how the fight between Al and Will is going. Hoping I might take some pointers from there. Paying attention to how they hold their bodies.

"No, you need to spread out your arms," Ally tells me. "You need to protect your face, yes, but your stomach is just as important. Don't want someone to punch you in the gut after you just had lunch."

"Did you read it in a book somewhere?" I asked her as I note Will hooking his feet foot around one of Al's legs and yanking back, knocking Al to the ground. Al scrambles to his feet.

Ally shrugs. "They always encouraged light reading to stimulate the mind. That doesn't mean that some of us would learn these moves when our parents weren't looking."

"Do you think this is a leisure activity?" Eric rages from the other side of the room. "Should we break for naptime? Fight each other!"

Ally and I stop our warmups to see Will and Al having stopped trying to bring the other to the ground.

"But…" Al straightens, lowering his guard down, and says, "Is it scored or something? When does the fight end?"

"It ends when one of you is unable to continue," says Eric.

"According to Dauntless rules," Four says, "one of you could also concede."

Eric narrows his eyes at Four. "According to the old rules," he says. "In the new rules, no one concedes."

"A brave man acknowledges the strength of others," Four replies.

"A brave man never surrenders."

Four and Eric stare at each other for a few seconds. I feel like I am looking at two different kinds of Dauntless—the honorable kind, and the ruthless kind. But even I know that in this room, it's Eric, the youngest leader of the Dauntless, who has the authority.

Al wipes his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand.

"This is ridiculous," Al says, shaking his head in disbelief. "What's the point of beating him up? We're in the same faction!"

"He's going to have to," Ally says shaking her head. "Because Eric might as well go up there and knock one of them out himself."

Will puts his hands up again. Al tries a punch and Will ducks. After a failed punch and a few kicks, Al charges at Will, grabs his arm before punching him in the jaw.

I watch the light leave Will's eyes. They roll back into his head, and all the tension leaves his body. He slips from Al's hands, dead weight, and crumples to the platform.

Please be alive. Please be alive.

Al's eyes widen, and he crouches next to Will, tapping his cheek with one hand. The room falls silent until there is a pin drop as we wait for Will to respond. For a few seconds, he doesn't, just lies on the platform. Then he blinks, clearly dazed.

Get him up," Eric says. He stares with greedy eyes at Will's fallen body, like the sight is a meal and he hasn't eaten in weeks. The curl of his lip is cruel.

Four turns to the chalkboard and circles Al's name, declaring him the winner.

I watch as Christina fights Molly. Where Molly would have beaten Christina to a pulp if she hadn't shouted, "That it! I'm done!" Even if Eric was in charge, I had a feeling that he wouldn't have had her hang onto the railings of the Chasm for five minutes if Four had come back on time.

I take turns with Ally and later Al on practicing punches later on as the matches continue. Yet, I could not help but shake the feeling that Eric is watching me every now and then.