A/N:So this chapter doesn't quite follow canon in terms of the main plot timeline. I've pushed Visiting Day off for the weekend after Phase One is over. This is partially a goof on my side and partially because I had just written an 11k oneshot [Go check it out! It's called Born and Bred Black and Red] about Visiting Day and I don't want to just re-hash that again.

The next few days were surprisingly tame. Four ruled training with an iron fist, keeping everyone in line with a few short words or a sharp glare. Eric wasn't around, much to Christina's joy. She refused to shut up about it, going on about how much smoother training was without that "egotistical jackass lurking around."

I couldn't say I agreed. Training was different, but I'm not sure if it was comparable to our normal routine. Four focused training on Dauntless protocols and procedures as well as physical attributes other than marksmanship. We ran the city twice on one day and once more the next. I was thankful for my morning jogging, even if Eric didn't show up for said running the entire week.

I tried not to be disappointed and instead focused on getting my stamina up to do thirty laps at the same steady speed. When he did come back, he'd have to actually try to out-run me.

His absence became the norm so much so that when we started our final day of training it was startling to see him standing right up next to Four. The blonde didn't say much and just nodded along with what Four was saying about the wrap-up of training.

Al spent the morning in a shocked silence. He wasn't ready to be judged. Before the night was over, Four, Lauren, and Eric would decide who would stay and who would go from the bravest faction. Without even seeing the Dauntless-born, my bet was solidly on Myra failing out. Al might have been able to cling on to hope if three of the training group were even worse than he was. Might was the key word.

Lunch was subdued, a quick twenty minute affair with strict orders from Four to return on time or not at all. The threat had been dull for the past week, but on today it actually held some weight. It was our last day to prove that we had the physical skills to remain in Dauntless.

"Let's go," Will said urgently, his eyes on Al's digital watch. We'd just barely finished eating lunch - grilled chicken sandwiches today - and time had ticked down to five whole minutes left. Our group of four ended up being the first to arrive back in the training room and Four nodded to us appreciatively.

He didn't want us ignoring his threat on a day when Eric was watching, or at least that was my suspicion. "Don't bother getting anything from your lockers," he called out as Christina moved to unlock hers. "You're not going to need them for the rest of today."

That ruled out any final assessment in target practice. I hoped my previous efforts were good enough. It wasn't like there was much I could do now to improve them. Will bemoaned the lack of a clear syllabus of expectations and I agreed. We hovered still by the lockers, talking about nothing at all. Not everyone had arrived yet despite just under a minute remaining in Four's time limit.

"Alright, while we're waiting for the last stragglers, why don't we get started on final fights?" Eric called out. The room fell to a total silence, Drew stopping mid-sentence as our fearless leader stood impatiently by the fighting mat.

There were still an odd number of us in our training group, I noted. Someone was either not going to get to fight or perhaps worse have to fight one of our instructors. I sent a prayer to whoever was listening that it wasn't myself or Christina, especially if we'd have to fight Four. I don't think she'd be able to handle facing our instructor again, not while she still bore the thin white scar around her neck.

Four nodded in apparent agreement with Eric. Maybe they'd finally gotten in sync over the "proper" way to teach initiates. "I've got a roster set up already. Tris," he barked, "you were going to go first, but since your sparring partner is taking her sweet time, you get to go last. Use that to your advantage."

I nodded tightly and started to mentally prepare myself. The only other girl not present yet was Molly; Edward and Myra had scurried in just as Four had started talking. I wanted to be ready to take down the stocky girl this time. I had a bone to pick with her after the last fight.

Eric snorted and shook his head. Alright, so their alliance wasn't quite as solid as it seemed. "Prior's already fought her. Give her a different partner," he ordered. I chewed on my lip and tried to not look too disappointed. I wasn't going to get a chance to exact my revenge in an entirely fair fist fight.

"Christina, you haven't fought Prior yet, right?" Eric asked, his attention snapping to the girl next to me. She tensed visibly, her forehead furrowing in a furious glare. There was no doubt in my mind that she absolutely despised Eric now.

My friend didn't even speak, shaking her head sharply in response. Eric smiled, shark-like in his glee. "Perfect. You're about even in the ranks with Molly. Both of you, get in the ring."

Will patted Christina on the back and whispered something encouraging to her. I just pushed myself to move into the fighting ring without faltering. I didn't want to fight Christina just as much as I hadn't wanted to fight Al. But as Four had been driving mercilessly into our skulls, Dauntless operated on order and chain of command. Orders were orders, even in a training situation.

I kicked off my boots and placed them carefully on the ground next to the mat while I waited for Christina to get up here. "Same rules as usual?" I asked, looking at Four for the answer. He nodded tightly. I hadn't expected anything less of the last fight.

Christina finally hopped onto the mat, reluctance and frustration coloring her expression. She raised her fists and stood completely still. I feigned a quick jab to the right and she barely even flinched.

"Who do you want to win?" she murmured, her mouth barely moving. I started. What the hell was she on about? Who did I want to win? The best fighter, obviously. Christina shuffled towards me and threw a weak punch. It didn't hurt in the slightest.

I returned with a low kick to her shins. It was painfully obvious what I was going to do and she didn't even try to dodge. "Shit!" she exclaimed. "If you want to win, that's fine," Christina hissed under her breath. "Just try not to bruise every last part of me."

"If you don't fight back, neither of us are going to get a good score. Don't just roll over and die" I replied harshly. I didn't care who heard what I had to say - I meant it. This wasn't gym glass in mid levels. This was initiation. "And I couldn't care less if you hurt me. Bring it on."

Maybe I did have a death wish.

Christina's eyes narrowed and she sank further into her haunches. I stepped forward and rammed my shoulder into her torso, my free arm slamming into her stomach. She cried out and folded. I mistook the motion as giving up and didn't adjust my position. Seconds later, Christina rolled over my back and landed on her hands and toes behind me.

Her foot lashed out to take out the back of my knee, forcing me to let her push me down on that knee. With both of us on the floor, neither one of us had an advantage. Cristina stayed low, launching herself to try and tackle me further to the floor. It was a move that Lauren had come in to show us earlier in the week, though we hadn't actually had a fight since then to try it out.

An elbow slammed into my face, dazing me. Without seeing properly, I slammed my knee into some part of Christina. I'd meant to throw her entirely over my head, but my timing was off and the move didn't have quite the desired effect. She slumped off of me, crying out in pain. Still, the fight wasn't won yet and I had to keep moving. I rolled to my side and sprang to my feet with a push of my hand. Christina was still down, her face contorted as she clutched her stomach. Incoherent swearing filled the air.

"That it?" I asked, half to Christina and half to my instructor outside of the ring. Four didn't say anything and neither did Eric, surprisingly. Christina shook her head and painfully crawled back to a standing position.

Her stance was weak, I noted, and she was favoring her right side. I must have really done a number on her with my knee. She was still fighting, though, and we threw ourselves at each other after a moment spent sizing each other up. I didn't go straight for her wounded side in case it was a feint. Instead, I focused on absorbing her rapid-fire jabs before seizing the chance to get one solid uppercut to her chin.

It staggered Christina, sending her backwards with a pinwheel of limbs. I wasn't done yet, following up with a kick to her injured side; the grunt from her was too believable to be faked, so the pain must have been pretty bad. Still, she pulled her fists back up into a rough approximation of a guard before lashing out with one of Lauren's kickboxing strikes.

I was ready for it, moving just enough that when Christina hit, all her momentum was lost and she lurched forward from the shift in balance. That was all I needed to push off from the mat with a jump and a shout, my resulting punch strengthened by the force of gravity and pure determination.

Her skull cracked against the bones in my knuckles. Christina crumpled to the ground like a puppet with her strings cut. My stomach twisted even as I felt the familiar surge in pride for a fight fairly won. I fell to my knees and twisted her chin to check that she was okay. A welt was welling up already on her cheekbone, but otherwise Christina was breathing just fine.

Will appeared at my shoulder, worry creasing his brow. "She's gonna be fine," I said quickly. I didn't like the guilt that was settling in my gut. It fluttered around miserably, threatening to evict my lunch.

He hauled Christina to her feet, murmuring quietly that she was all right. Her eyelids fluttered and her toes glided over rather than touched the ground, but she was conscious. I followed behind the pair, stopping to grab my boots from their spot by the mat. I could have sworn I saw Eric wink, but by the time I looked up again, he was elbowing Four to get the next pair up to fight.

The flutter in my chest didn't help my stomach situation.

I spent the rest of the fights sitting on the ground next to Christina, silently watching. She didn't say much to me, rooting quietly for Will and Al when their turns came up. The fights passed by in a blur as I rubbed at my bruising forearms.

Will, Peter, and Edward all got to walk off the mats under their own power while Molly, Al, and Drew got helped off by their friends. Myra "lucked out" and didn't have to fight anyone. She wasn't even given the option to fight one of the winners.

And that was it. Physical training was officially over.

Nervous energy took over the initiates. We were in a holding pattern, knowing that ranks were being determined as we sat impatiently. Someone suggested getting dinner - Al, I think - and like a swarm of lemmings we made our way to the cafeteria. Transfers and Dauntless-born alike clustered in a corner of the crowded hall, more focused on watching for our trainers than on the food in front of us.

I think I took about two bites of my miso soup. Thankfully it was bland enough from the tofu and mushrooms. Anything more would upset the already tenuous balance in my stomach.

"They are going to announce ranks tonight, right?" Will asked fervently. One of the Dauntless-born replied in a rather rude fashion, but the answer was still clear: absolutely. We wouldn't know who was getting cut until the next day when the instructors decided the overall ranks, but we would still know who in each group was the best. Anyone not in the bottom four ranks was guaranteed to be safe. The pressure was on to be top five in the transfers.

Peter was absolutely certain that he was going to be number one, with Edward and Drew trailing behind him. There was almost a fist-fight when he refused to consider Molly in the running for top three. The stocky girl might not have looked it, but even I had to admit that she had stepped up to the plate and performed fairly well all initiation.

I tried to start up a conversation with Christina about our chances of being top five, but she became rather fascinated with a story Marlene was telling. I knew when I was being blown off. It should have been expected, what with the size of the shiner that had welled up on her cheek, but it still stung to be totally ignored.

Like a good little Abnegation girl, I said nothing and proceeded to listen to the rest of my friends and colleges while away the rest of the hour. I occupied myself with playing with the cubes of tofu in my soup, scooping them out to build a tower on the table in front of me. My appetite wasn't returning any time soon.

"Transfers! With me," Four summoned from the entryway of the cafeteria. I had totally missed him appearing there, preoccupied with my pity-party and tofu sculpture. I had to scurry to dump the cubes back into my soup and get to the dish return window in time to still catch up with the rest of the transfers. Al hung back and I gave him an appreciative head bob.

We had to jog to meet up with the rest of the transfers, trailing behind as Four led us back to the dorms. I guess they wanted some level of privacy to tell us our ranks. It didn't matter much to the rest of the faction who was failing or succeeding in initiation. Whoever ended up making it through mattered, no one else.

Four stood by the front of the room, a clipboard tucked firmly under his elbow. The room trembled with nervous energy. Al's hand wormed its way into mine, squeezing tightly. I didn't look at him, focused solely on our instructor in front of us.

What if I was in the bottom?

The tension in the room reached its all-time high as Four looked us over. His silence was agony. Finally he pulled out the clipboard and read it over without speaking.

"After carefully considering every facet of your training, Lauren, Eric, and myself have decided final rankings for phase one of training," he said in a matter of fact tone. "These ranks are not subject for debate. If you don't like it, tough shit. Fix it in phase two - if you make it that far, that is."

Al's palms were sweaty. His hand in mine was slick, clammy.

"Tomorrow the lowest four overall will leave Dauntless. Again, not subject to debate." It was exactly as I'd feared; the only ones safe were in the top five. If all the Dauntless-born were better than our bottom four, they'd all be out.

Four cleared his throat and started to read from the clipboard. "From lowest to high, transfers ranked as follows: Myra, Al," - his hand reached critical sweatiness - "Drew, Christina, Molly, Tris, Will, Peter, Edward."

Near-chaos erupted as Peter started swearing and Christina shouted furiously. "That's outrageous! I do not deserve to be in the bottom four!" she roared. "Total bullshit!"

Four raised a single eyebrow but otherwise didn't engage. He turned on his heel and left the dorms, the clipboard back under his arm. Peter dogged his footsteps, not taking Four's no-debate rule as acceptable. I heard him ranting about how much stronger he was than everyone all the way down the hall.

Al still clung to my hand. "I'm going to get cut," he moaned. "That's it. I'm going to be factionless."

I shook my head fervently and tugged him over to our bunks. "Stop, just stop," I hissed quietly. "Yes, you ranked eight out of nine. But Four said that they've still got to compare us to the Dauntless-born. Three of them might be worse than you." It wasn't likely, but it was technically possible.

The tall boy's shoulders heaved. He was on the verge of a breakdown, even more so than usual. My free hand gripped his chin and I forced him to look at me. From somewhere deep, deep within me, I dredged up some compassion for the boy who never stopped crying. "Say it out loud. 'I am not getting cut.'"

Al inhaled sharply. "I am not getting cut," he whispered. I gave him a pointed look. He repeated it louder. "I am not getting cut."

"I almost believe you - louder," I insisted. I started, realizing that I was mimicking a technique my brother had taught me back in Abnegation. One of my classes in Lower Levels had required us to do a presentation at the end of a project. I had spent the whole night before worrying about it, hardly sleeping. Caleb came in and sat next to me, listening to me babble about how I was going to fail and "never ever pass Pre-Faction History".

He'd taken my hand and told me to keep telling myself that I was going to be fine, that I could go up in front of the class and do my report. Caleb had me repeat "I am going to pass" over and over until I fell asleep. The next day I got up and gave a terrible report - confidence wasn't going to help the fact that I chose to play tag instead of read at the library - with a giant smile on my face. The teacher gave me a C and I did Caleb's chores for the rest of the month in gratitude.

I was jarred back to the present by Al letting go of my hand. "Thanks, Tris," he said. Relief replaced the terror in his expression.

"Don't mention it," I grumbled, flushing. I deliberately turned to look at our other friends. Will looked conflicted, apparently happy to have made it into the top five ranks even as he tried to console the still-irate Christina.

I heard her shout more about how unfair it was to not disclose rankings until the last day and how ridiculous it was to put so much weight on fights. It dawned on me that because I'd won, I probably was the one to knock her rank below Molly.

Guilt once again pooled in my gut.

Al grimaced next to me, his gaze matching mine. "She's not taking it well," he remarked. "I would kill to have gotten her rank."

I could only bite my tongue.

"Hey, are you going with us tonight?" Al asked. His entire attitude had done a one-eighty and I was reeling to keep up.

"What are you talking about?" I asked. "I didn't know there was a specific plan besides just, you know, hanging out like usual."

The tall boy shook his head. "Some of the Dauntless-born are having a get together in their training room. Said they wanted to actually meet us now that we're not training separately."

"That… could be fun," I replied warily. Other than the Uriah - who I had really only spoken with once - I didn't know any of the Dauntless-born. I could name a few and only because Christina kept a ranked list of "cute boys."

Al nodded fervently. "There's gonna be beer. You've got to come."

"Then I guess I'm going." I hoped the beer was worth it.

Half an hour later and we'd assembled in a gymnasium I'd never been in. It was set up pretty much the same as our training room, with the only differences being the paint on the lockers and the initials carved into the benches.

We sat around the lockers, still clustered in groups of Dauntless-born and transfers. Al and I had been the last to come in; Will and Christina had beaten us there, having left the dorm minutes after Al told me about the party. If I hadn't been so focused on avoiding Christina's death glares, I might have realized that Al and I had been unofficially dropped from their good graces.

Good for them. It wasn't my fault that Christina went into her last fight not wanting to win.

Uriah pulled a box of clinking glass bottles from his locker, placing them on a bench with a huff. "They're not cold, but they'll do," he said cheerfully. "We've got this box and another in Lynn's locker, so plan accordingly."

Lynn grimaced. "Half a box. Sorry," she corrected. "Cal grabbed a few the other day while I was running drills with Marlene." I'd been surprised to realize she was a girl at first; her hair was completely shaved to barely half an inch long all over her head. I made a mental note not to assume anything about anyone's gender from appearance alone.

Uriah cursed and quickly counted up the beers again. He squinted at the group and mouthed along as he ran the numbers. "Everyone gets three, no, two each. I'm taking a third since I got them. So can Lynn. That leaves two to fight over," he summarized quickly.

I didn't argue. Someone passed me a bottle and I struggled with the cap. Marlene popped hers open on the bench in front of her and I quickly mimicked the method. It started fizzing and I yelped.

"Don't waste it, Stiff!" Lynn snapped. I stopped trying to stem the overflowing drink with my hand and took a few long drafts. It didn't burn too much; the oat flavor cut most of the burn from the alcohol. I wiped the foam from my mouth and made a face. The after-taste was horrid.

My bottle was already a third empty. "I want reverse-dibs on my third drink," I announced. "This is awful."

Uriah laughed, a booming sound. "You'll get used to the taste. It's mostly for the game anyway," he chuckled.

"Game?" Al asked. He'd wrenched his bottle open with his hand, saving himself from spilling any all over himself. For once Al wasn't the biggest idiot in the room. I currently bore that crown.

"We're playing Faction," Marlene explained. She had shoulder length blonde hair, curly and absolutely stunning. My own tresses felt inadequate all of a sudden. "The rules are simple. We go in a circle and ask anyone to name a faction. Whatever they name, they have to follow whatever the asker tells them. If they don't, they drink. Then the ask-ee gets to ask someone else."

"Each faction has its own rules. They're super self explanatory," Lynn interjected. "You'll figure it out easy."

Will's head bobbed. "I've played before," Al said cheerfully. "After school with my brother's friends." Christina nodded as well, leaving me staring blankly at our new friends.

Oh well. What else was new? "Wow, surprise, surprise," I said with a weak laugh. "Us Stiffs have no concept of fun. I'll have to watch for a few rounds."

Uriah pointed at me with his beer bottle. "You get two rounds and that's it. Then you're in like the rest of us. That's just 'cause I don't feel like explaining every little rule," he said. I didn't have much of a choice, so I nodded.

He started us off, calling out Christina right away. "Name your faction," he said, leaning against the lockers behind him. We were still all standing, awkward and uncomfortable with the other group.

"Dauntless," she asserted quickly.

Uriah smirked, cool and collected. "Climb up the lockers and play your next round up there," he challenged. I paid careful attention, trying to follow their exchange so I'd get the nuances of each faction.

She passed her drink to Will and quickly hopped onto the wooden bench. From there, it was only a jump from there to hang on the top edge of the lockers and a flex of her arms to get up on top. "Piece of cake!" Christina crowed, reaching down to get her beer. "I'll still take a drink, too," she added smugly.

From her position atop the lockers, Christina pointed to Lynn. "Faction, baldie?"

"Candor," she replied in a sickly-sweet voice. "Figured you must know some good questions, blabbermouth."

Both girls were smiling as they bantered back and forth. Bonding was weird, but I was glad that we were getting along with our initiation counterparts. I shuddered to think how things would go if we had been playing with Peter or Molly.

"How far have you gone with a guy?"

"I've knocked a few of them into next week," Lynn replied smoothly. "None have caught my eye enough to let them get any more handsy."

Christina arched an eyebrow. "So you've never-" she started to ask.

Marlene cut her off. "One question, one answer," the blonde insisted in a sing-song voice. "Let Lynn pick her victim."

"Stiff, since you're officially back in, I pick you. What faction would you like?" Lynn asked. She slipped to the floor, resting her back on the lockers and crossing her legs in front of her. People were getting more comfortable, relaxing as we started to get to know each other.

I thought for a moment. Each question or answer was coded to the basic tenets of the factions, that was obvious. I didn't feel like doing a dare and embarrassing myself in front of my new friends, so I decided to go with one of the other more tame factions. "Erudite?" I replied. "Mostly because I'm curious what the rules are for that one."

"No taking it back, Tris," Uriah commanded once again. It was his party; I respected him for running the game, too.

Lynn looked up at me, her dark eyes intent. "Erudite means you have to say something that's true that no one else in the room knows. If someone knows it, they have to speak up, too," she added, glaring around the circle. "Otherwise they have to drink, too."

"Cool," I said. "So I can say that I have never owned a pet and that counts?"

She nodded. "Yep. Oh! And if someone knows you're lying, you've got to drink, too."

Basically anything that wasn't answering the questions or honoring the dares led to drinking. I suddenly understood why I'd never played the game before. Drinking was completely taboo in Abnegation. The warm fuzzy feeling slowly growing in my chest protested.

"Well, that's true - never had a pet," I repeated. "Now I pick Al."

He picked Candor and I asked him if he ever kissed someone before. His ears got real red as he drank.

Al picked Marlene and the game continued. I pieced together the last two factions: Amity and Abnegation were similar where you had to do a favor, but the subject was either your enemy if you picked Amity or the asker if you picked Abnegation. Will ended up agreeing to do all of Marlene's laundry next time she needed it whereas Lynn was sworn to give one of her estranged cousins a hug on Visiting Day.

Marlene called me out and I discovered another twist of the game - you couldn't repeat a faction you'd already picked. I went for Abnegation and she pawned off cleaning her gear on me.

"Since we're already here, might as well get started," she giggled, unlocking her locker after a few tries. She was on her second drink entirely by choice, her first bottle carefully nestled in the box to go back to resource reclamation.

I watched the next couple rounds from my new spot on the floor, toiling away on Marlene's pistol. Christina stayed on her perch, making Will hand her a new bottle when she drained hers instead of doing a favor for her enemy. Thinking of how much she hated Eric, I didn't blame her for being told to "get him or her a coffee every morning."

"They're always up before dawn anyway," she growled before dumping the rest of her drink down her throat. I didn't get how she could just chug it. The flavor was starting to numb on my tongue, but even still there was no way I was going to suck down half off a bottle of beer without coughing.

Christina had Al give her a back massage - she ventured down from the lockers to lay on the bench instead - and he in turn called on me. Feeling a bit more bold, I answered with Dauntless. I only had that or Candor left, having said Amity a few rounds back to catch up with everyone else and drink more of my beer.

Al shuffled his feet and took his sweet time thinking of his dare. I was mostly focused on re-assembling Marlene's pistol rather than paying super close attention to him. My face was flushed and I was enjoying the nice buzz that the alcohol was giving me.

That came crashing down when Al dared me to kiss him.

"Sorry, what?" I asked, vying for more time. "Is that… can you dare someone that way?"

"It's totally fair," he grumbled, running a hand through his hair.

Lynn cackled. "That's great. Kids gonna get his first kiss on a dare." I didn't share in her sentiment. It wasn't funny to me to be dared to kiss someone I had literally no attraction with.

I lifted my beer and shakily brought it to my lips. "I'll take the bottle, no hard feelings," I whispered. I couldn't help it; it was as loud as I could summon my voice to be.

He looked away sharply and quickly followed suit, taking a long draught. "Never mind," he scowled. "Should have known."

Christina, back on her perch above the rest of us, scoffed. "Of course you should have. Why would Ms. Better Than-"

We wouldn't know how Christina was going to end that sentence. The door of the training room was ripped open and Lauren darted in, another Dauntless trailing after her. I didn't recognize him. "Don't panic," Lauren commanded.

It had the opposite effect on our little buzzed group. My heart started jack-hammering at what felt like a thousand beats per minute. "Are you the only ones in here?" she barked, scanning us with laser-focused attention. "Did anyone leave your group?"

Marlene sat up, having draped herself on one of the wooden benches. "Just us seven in here, Laur," she replied quickly. "No one's left. We're just playing Faction with the transfers."

I worried for about half a second that they were going to bust us for drinking. But Lauren only cared about who was in the room, double checking that she knew who was in the room and who wasn't.

"Kyle, stay here with them and for the love of god, don't let them out," she ordered. Sparing no second glances, she jogged out of the training room just as quickly as she'd entered.

Kyle licked his lips and surveyed our group. Christina hopped down from the lockers and we all stared at the newcomer. He didn't look all that tough, being tall and reedy rather than stocky like Al or even Four. Hell, his ears stuck out through curly, shoulder-length hair.

"I'm Kyle, for those who don't know me," he said, his voice almost wary. "You might know me if you've been up to Leadership before."

I literally could not care less where he worked. I wanted to know what was going on. "What happened?" Christina barked.

"What's Lauren freaking out about?" Lynn asked, speaking up over Uriah's quiet swearing. He was still trying to gather up the beer bottles to hide the box back in his locker.

The clinking of bottles carried through the quiet gym as Kyle visibly hemmed over whether he'd answer. I totally ignored the mostly-together firearm in my hands, entirely focused on the Dauntless practically sweating bullets in front of us. "One of the transfers got stabbed," he finally admitted. "The, ah, number one kid. Edwin."

"Edward," Will corrected him instantly. Even Uriah stopped his frantic motions. It didn't seem possible. Someone attacked one of our own? Who would hurt an initiate?

I broke the fresh silence. "Is he okay? Did… Were they trying to kill him?"

Kyle shook his head. "We don't know what they were aiming to do, but he's been blinded in one eye. He was brought to the infirmary when one of the patrols heard screaming," he answered.

Bile rose in my throat. Edward had been number one, the best of our group. I never saw him lose a single fight ever. "I have to ask you guys again, did any of you leave this gym?"

I shook my head mutely, my eyes closed as I fought to keep my beer from making a repeat appearance. Christina took over as the group's spokesperson, telling Kyle exactly how long we'd all been in here and how no one had left even to go to the bathroom.

Once he was done asking us questions, the room fell back into an uneasy quiet. Marlene took her pistol back and I fidgeted with a loose screw I found on the floor. Will asked Kyle a few questions every once in a while about how this would affect initiation, but the man had no real answers to give. Apparently he just had his orders to watch us - both keeping us safe and being ready to take us down with the high powered taser on his belt - and that was all he knew.

We waited the whole night in that gymnasium.

Lauren came to collect her initiates at around five thirty. Christina, Will, Al, and I still had to sit by the lockers while Kyle stared glassy-eyed at the ceiling. Four didn't show up until well past eight.

He came into the doorway and waved for us to come over. Will was bubbling with questions, but a look from Four shut him up. "Edward's fine. Blind in one eye, but fine," our instructor wearily told us. "He's been given a clean bill of health from the doctors at the hospital provided he doesn't develop any infection. But he's dropping out, giving up on initiation."

My mind was reeling from not enough sleep and too much excitement. Just like that, Edward was factionless. "I already told the rest of the transfers - Myra, Cal, and Glen all ranked in the bottom three. The rest of you are staying."

"Congratulations. You've officially made it to phase two," Four said, the words hanging bitterly in the air.