All twenty five tributes were lined against a long wall, staring straight ahead of them or glancing at the people around. I zone out of the long speech given by the same girl who spoke the first day of training, but I stare into her eyes to make it look like I'm paying attention.

The room is long with a low ceiling and a cold atmosphere. Practically everything in here is made of metal, including the tables we'll begin mental training on. All the while, I avoided looking at Nicanor who stood a few people down and kept sending me gazes as if trying to catch my eyes. I didn't want him to have them- not after what had happened. Instead, when I wasn't pretending to listen in on the woman speaking, I would look around the room.

About every ten feet there was a black hole up in the wall. It took me a few seconds to realize this after noticing the first one, but they're cameras, and I can't help but think the Gamemakers are watching me watch them back. I send them a glare before flinching to the sound of a loud clap.

The woman speaking in front of us all has her hands pressed together. "Alright, tributes. Time to get into position." she gives a closed mouth smile, her eyes wide, but it looks more demanding rather than reassuring. Looking around, all of the tributes take to the nearest metal table they can find. I look in front of me. I approach the table, but when I notice everyone is beginning to sit on them and lie on their backs, I cringe.

"They want to stab us with needles." an unfamiliar voice says, placing a gentle hand on my upper arm. I turn to see the short girl from District 4- my fellow female Dauntless tribute. Her voice is a bit higher pitched than I would have imagined, but she looks up at me with fearless eyes. "That's how we're going to train. The stuff in the syringes makes us fall asleep and enter some kind of dream world." she states clearly, walking up to the long metal table beside mine. She plops herself down and lays back, taking in a deep breath as the cold emanating from the table touches her tanned, District 4 skin. Her black hair flows around her, and I can tell just by the little twinge her hazel eyes show that she's a bit fearful as well. She furrows her thick brows at me, and I simply shake my head and roll my neck and shoulders a few times before hesitantly sitting on the metal table and lying on my back. I'm glad I wore long sleeves and pants, because the table definitely is chilly. I press my head back and for a moment, close my eyes, attempting to make all my stress and anxiety go away.

It's just a stupid needle. I've taken shots before. I can do this. Why am I so anxious? I don't know. I glance to my left- and there lies the Erudite redhead girl, already watching me back. Her hair is tied over her shoulder in another braid, but it suits her features. Icy green eyes, a fair complexion that's ridden of almost any acne, freckles, or beauty marks. She grins, but it looks more like a 'we're going to have fun with you, aren't we?' kind of grin more than a friendly one. I turn my head and look up at the ceiling, then back to the District 4 girl at my right. I don't even know her name. She wears a simple black T-shirt, one shoulder drooping off, showing the dark tank top she wears underneath. She has black jeans like myself and a pair of flats, which painfully remind me of the ones I wore on the day of the Reaping.

A man in pure white clothing moves to her table and places a pad on her neck before sticking the needle in one of her veins. I watch as she twitches slightly and squints her eyes closed as the man inserts a green liquid into her blood flow. He places the syringe on his cart along with several other empty ones, and wheels over to me. I can't help the slight shiver that runs down my spine as he places the square of moist cloth on my neck, the cleanser seeping into my skin. He grabs another syringe from his cart, and within a couple moments, the needle is deep inside my neck, feeling like an irritatingly large mosquito biting down hard on me. I swear I can feel the cold lime liquid entering my body as he pushes it in, and my eyes widen a bit. I cough once, and I can feel my pupils shrinking. My limbs twitch a bit, and my fingers tremble. It feels as if a rush of massive adrenaline is coursing through me, only my body is trying to fight back and prevent me from convulsing. I look up at the man who wears glasses with blue trim- an Erudite. He narrows his eyes at my reaction to the substance, but then straightens out and shakes his head.

"No, impossible…" he states almost confidently, if it weren't for the lump in his throat. I part my lips and furrow my brows at him, as does the District 4 girl.

"What the hell is going on?" I ask in a stern but low voice, attempting not to draw much attention from the other tributes or Officials in the room. My feet start to shake a bit wildly, which makes my heart skip a beat.

"Calm down, nothing is happening. Your body is just... Reacting differently." just as he says that, my spine seems to crack and my stomach lurches into the air, my whole body bending. I slam back on the table, shaking my head a bit and trying to regain composure. The man cringes and looks over me to see another Official working on the other side of the room, just finishing up on the redheaded girl beside me when he notices my constant twitching. The two exchange a worried glance, and the other Official walks around to my side, causing more and more people to notice. I cough a few more times before sitting upright without even telling myself to. I spit up blood- crimson blood with just the hint of green in it, and it splatters on the ground beside the table, some of it dotting the Official's shoes.

"Rhea!" the Official loudly and harshly calls out, and the woman who had been speaking to us earlier rushes over just in time to see me slam back into the table and clutch the sides to try and contain myself.

"What's wrong with her?" she asks, her eyes wandering my body, scanning each one of my attacks.

"Help." is the only word I'm able to sputter out, and I can tell I now have everyone's full and undivided attention- even the Gamemakers' who I know are watching me. One of the Officials rushes off to god knows where.

"Her body- her blood circulation, her nerves, her everything. It seems to be fighting back the serum. I- I don't know what to do. This hasn't happened before." he explains, and once again, my spine feels like it's snapping and my stomach rises in the air with a jolt. I fall back against the table, and the Official comes back with... What are those?

Restraints.

All my life I've had a terrible fear of being restrained, unable to move, feeling like all my blood would build into clods and I would explode. That's why I was always overly cooperative when it came to medical examinations and such- because I was severely afraid they would pin me down and I would just... Burst.

There's not much I can do- I can't control my own limbs, but I continue to spit blood and shake radically as they tie down my stomach, ankles, thighs, wrists, upper arms, even my forehead. I know in the back of my mind that it's for the best to keep me stable, but I can feel everything about me growing wild and uncontrollable. I've tried to keep the screams in, but my spine snaps again and my stomach has nowhere to go. I cry out in pain, squinting my eyes shut and biting my lip back.

Just then, I feel a firm grip on my hand. "It's alright, it'll be fine. The simulation must go on- and the sooner you can will yourself to escape it, the sooner the pain and shaking will vanish. You can do this." the woman says, kneeling at my side. She turns her head up at one of the cameras. "Start the simulation now!" she shouts, both of her hands still clutched on mine. Without wanting to, I cough more. The blood splatters on our intertwined hands, and I have just enough time to see her look at me with even more worry than she had before. Then everything goes black.

He slices at me, and I back away just in time for the blade to be less than an inch from my throat. "You fight well, Renee. Shall we continue?" says the trainer, the one I had a sword fight with on the first day of Training. He doesn't seem as arrogant now. I glance around- we're in a large open field with tributes training everywhere. The District 4 girl is just a station away, flinging spears into dummies. The sky is a perfect blue with white puffs of clouds here and there. The sun beats down on us, but it's more refreshing than hot.

"Sure." is my first response, but just as he's backing away on the mat we stand on, something hits me. How long have I been fighting with him?

A twinge of worry goes through his eyes before he straightens out and swallows. "Just a few minutes. Why?" he grins at me, slowly sheathing his sword.

"Why are you not being... You? Why are you being nice?" I question, taking a step back. It feels like something is panging against my skull, but I can't tell what it is. He studies me for a moment. "Wait, did you just read my mind?"

"Aren't I always nice?" he questions back, not answering me completely. Crossing his arms over his chest, he takes another step towards me. My response is a few stomps backwards, shaking my head at him.

"You're egotistical and full of yourself. You are not the trainer I had on the first day. Not at all." I turn away from him, dropping the sword I hold on the mat and placing my hands on my head. I squint my eyes shut. Something is missing. Something...

When I open my eyes, the District 4 girl is already looking at me, stopped in mid throw. She drops her weapon and approaches. "What is it?" she asks, narrowing her eyes up at me and placing her hands on her hips. "Hey, chill out, we're not even in the Games yet. This is just training." she says clearly, and the word begins to pang even harder in my brain. Training.

"What kind of training are we doing?" I ask, taking my hands off my head, dropping my arms at my side. My fingers quiver in anticipation of her answer. She just shakes her head as if the feeling is overcoming her as well.

"Just training... For the Divergent Games. Are you okay? You look like you're about to have a mental break down." my eyes widen at her words. I swing my arms up and firmly grip her shoulders, breathing heavily. "Get off of me!" she yelps, squirming, but I don't let go.

"How did we get here?" I say in a severe tone, loud enough for her to know that I'm being strict and serious, but low enough so the other tributes won't hear. I shake her a bit, and she glares up at me. "We're..." I stutter, as the words seem to form together. "We're in mental training. We... We have to wake up. Wake up!" I scream at her, and the field is so open and wide that I do, in fact, get just a couple tributes' attention, but not many. They look at us confusedly, as does the girl before me.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm... I'm not asleep. I'm awake." she says it with such confidence that I almost believe her, but in her eyes I can see that she's mostly trying to reassure herself. "Get off of me." She frees herself and steps backwards. She presses a few fingers against her forehead.

"How did we get here? What's the last thing you remember?" I question, pressing forward. The clouds above seem to get just a bit darker. I hold my hands out in front of me. "Sword." I say. Nothing happens, but something seems to flicker up in the sky. Lightning? No, it wasn't lightning. I would have heard thunder follow afterwards. It seemed as if someone was taking a picture from above. "Sword!" I shout, and something starts to materialize in my hands, but it's faded and foggy, blinking as if it's trying to fight back from becoming clear. "This world is fake! Sword!" Finally, the blade forms in my hands. The District 4 girl stands before me, her jaw dropped in awe.

"We... What did you just do? Magic? That's impossible! A sword doesn't just..." she stutters, her words becoming muffled by her own self. She shakes her head, her brows pressing together.

"It's not possible in the real world, but here, in mental training, it is. We have to wake up, Erela." I shock myself. How did I know her name? I look from her eyes to the sword in front of me. I blink a few times. Did I just call her a random name because it sounded correct, or is that name real? What's different about a simulation and the real world that I can tell a person's name without even having to ask?

"Okay." her response surprises me, because she must be thinking the same thing I am. If I can make a sword appear in my hands and know her name all within a minute, it has got to be fake. I look down at her, and drop the sword on the ground. "But how?"

"This is not real." I begin to say, clearing my throat and grabbing her by the shoulders once more. She stares at me for a moment before returning the gesture. "This place is just a simulation. This is not real. Wake up. Wake up!" we chant together, looking up at the sky that now pounds and rumbles overhead. Lightning crackles nearby, and rain begins to fall. I don't know if I'm the only one dreaming the rain, but none of the other tributes seem to notice but Erela and I. And with that, I hear crumbling, and the ground beneath us falls to a dark abyss, bringing us with it.

I bolt upright with such force that the restraints snaps off my forehead, upper arms and stomach. I breathe heavily, the feeling of plummeting still rushing through me. As I attempt to catch my breath, I look over at the District 4 girl beside me. She watches back, in the same position I'm in. Looking up, there's a large screen against one of the walls that both of the Officials and the woman from earlier watch. The screen shows... It shows the open field, the sky clear and the clouds white with tributes scattered around testing their abilities. Slowly, they turn to see Erela and me already watching them.

"Thr- Three," the woman stutters, swallowing the lump in her throat and staring wide eyed at the two of us. "Three minutes and two seconds. That's... That's a new record."

End

Chapter Seven

The Divergent Games