Chapter 17
Kazana has lived factionless her entire life, having been found by the rebels who strive to live without the faction system she becomes their new secret weapon. The plan is clear, choose dauntless, pass initiation, infiltrate the system, but what can she do when a certain leader sees through her façade? AU No War, One year after Tris' initiation.
Many of you will have questions as to where this story is going from hereon out, I'd like to explain that I am a huge advocate for symbolism, almost everything I write, I write for a reason. I'm also very impressed at how perceptive you all are, your theories are a joy to read so please continue to post them and review. One more thing, this plot is about to get wild.
Disclaimer: You know what else I don't own other than Divergent? A Kawasaki Ninja 300. I'd like to possess both.
Survival of the fittest was a notion that under no circumstance, not in the thousands of years that it remained an evolutionary necessity, prospered on emotion.
In other words, logic and rationality are placed on the back burner. Heads in their hands, groaning in protest as emotion tears through existence and destroys everything in its wake.
If anyone were to recognize this, it would be he with the mind of an Erudite. They of all people knew the infallible merit in sense better than anyone. It was laughable really; that the Dauntless thought bravery was their saving grace during the fear simulations.
To see things from a clearer perspective, lower the heart rate and ultimately suspend one's terror, what ideology was this but that of a logical being?
In actuality, Eric's calves seared with a familiar burn as he walked to the Factionless District. The lapels of his overcoat fought against the howling wind and a fly did land with an irritating zzzt on his cheek before he crushed it swiftly between two fingers and flicked it in to the swirling atmosphere.
These were facts.
He had not felt a sentimental pull to the girl, who haunted his fleeting dreams. It had been a fierce need to fuck nothing more. He didn't feel the need to hold her afterwards and bear the brunt of tears as opposed to his soaking pillow. And he most certainly, DID NOT, feel, a mounting fucking confusion at the fact she had severely played with his mind.
Scratch that last, she hadn't played with his mind, he hadn't felt a damn thing.
And if anyone endeavoured to argue that matter, they most certainly would feel the crushing force of his fist in their face.
If the information were of any interest to anyone, and it certainly was not because it was a gruelling process even for the Dauntless, it takes approximately 5 hours and 25 minutes to walk to the Factionless District.
Eric had done just that, it had not been his intention to reside there; in fact even for a man of his size it was a foolish thing to do. Namely because the people who lived there would, given the opportunity, gut him like a fish and wear the entrails as jewellery.
But hey, Eric wasn't an Erudite. So, the point was moot really wasn't it?
There was a scampering of paws as steel capped boots marched up a creaking set of stairs, it was a warehouse which he had somehow in all of his years managed to miss. It seemed fitting that he should explore the place now.
It was nothing special; Eric found that the Factionless really could not be more unremarkable. If a word were to be absolutely essential to sum up their existence, that would be it. A littering of dirtied glass lay at his feet when entering on to the top floor, he was for a moment a little intrigued at the sizeable table strewn on to the floor. How in the hell had they got that?
He reprimanded himself; they had just confiscated an arsenal of weapons from these people, what surprise was there in a table?
Fragmented light fought to illuminate the room through solid planks of wood on the window. Closer inspection revealed a ledge of sorts on which he could sit. That is if he were a couple of feet shorter and 100 lbs lighter. It proved fitting for a child.
Eric came instead to lean against panelled glass, odd splinters scored his back but the discomfort went unnoticed. The new angle afforded him a curious sight.
Decaying wallpaper curled dejectedly, its floral pattern casting a morbid undertone. But what caught his eye were the three lines joint together in jagged canals as though carved with a fingernail to form the letter K.
It was unsettling to say the least, a horror cliché which spoke of desperate cries for help.
Though for Eric it was a key to his subconscious, reminders reminders reminders.
Kazana's name begins with a K, the thought hovered in the back of his mind, he refused to allow it to come to the forefront, to form in to words even in his head. It was just a dismantled thought.
In the light of dawn he vehemently refused to walk the way he'd come, the train journey back took 47 minutes.
If he had known what he would be returning to, he would have damn well gone on foot…and taken his time.
It was no wonder that facing one's fears was a compulsory requirement of initiation when a corpse hung suspended from a great harness above The Chasm. Rivulets of water continued to fall from its lifeless form, sliding down bloodless skin, a teasing drip down frozen lips before returning to the eternal pool.
"There will of course have to be an investigation," Tori mused as she and her fellow leader stared up at the drenched body.
"Your knack for pointing out the obvious never ceases to amaze," Eric drawled.
"This is serious! I-Fuck! I can't believe this is-Fuck!"
"We'll also have to find a replacement. Perhaps one with a cleaner mouth."
He was met with a seething scowl from the older woman; he fixed her with a customary smirk. It was of course a mammoth inconvenience that his associate had died on him; Jeanine would consider it a hindrance and increase the workload, a thorough investigation would further monopolize his time and the only person who had the blasted qualifications for the job was-
"Sloane," Tori's face lit up in a ridiculous smile.
He'd sooner jump in after Max than admit it to a living soul, but Eric would have preferred The Stiff.
"Play it again."
"For the last time man, nothin's happening."
It wasn't an infrequent occurrence that Eric questioned the competence of his Dauntless soldiers.
But it was times like this, as he watched the slovenly imbecile before him wipe cake covered fingers on the desk and scroll through surveillance, that he truly considered tightening initiation procedures.
He had ordered Tori to lead a thorough search in Max's quarters, to which he received a sneer of protest that she didn't take instructions from him.
From the outside in, this was of course true but there existed a hierarchy within all of the Factions, and it remained that they with the most powerful connections had the final say.
It was indisputable that with Max's demise, Eric had inherited this right. So he had simply arched an eyebrow and watched as she huffed and stormed off to conduct the search. Leaving just one last form of evidence.
"Then leave, I'll take care of it myself."
The young guard couldn't have looked happier to be relieved of his duties and left Eric to examine the footage alone.
5 hours earlier
Years of mistreatment would remain branded in to Tobias' psyche like an internal scar. These atrocities had without a doubt hardened him to the whirlwind life of a Dauntless soldier, and as such it had worked heavily in his favour.
Selflessness had been expected of him for 16 years of his life, to be selfless meant giving no thought to oneself, including the indulgence of vulnerabilities. Abuse and suffering was hushed up, swept under the carpet and when the time finally came for all of that to end, it was only too late.
Or at least, it had seemed that way. Two years had passed in cold indifference, but she had saved him, and still he did not know how to fully comprehend the feeling of being entirely content.
It was it in whole contentment that they lay now, in the reclined chair of the control room with Tris curled up on his lap half asleep and smiling.
They were surrounded by screens, yet oblivious to the content as numerous cameras surveyed their given breadth, Entrances, Exits, The Pit, Kitchens, Residences, and The Chasm. No corner went unnoticed under the glassy lens.
"Why did you have to take the night shift," she murmured in to his shoulder. Nestling her head further in to the crook of his neck.
"I don't really have a say, it's my job," he rested his chin on her head and closed his eyes.
The workload that evening did not come as a bother, he had soon grown tired of the constant raves the Dauntless obsessed over and their shared time together was a rarity that he fully intended to take advantage of.
"Mmnnngg screw your job."
"I'd-"
The handle of the door shot down as though trembling with a solid weight, both trainers jumped apart when it flew open and a dark figure collapsed in to the room. Her body shook violently, charcoal hair clung in dampened strands to her face as she stared up at them wide eyed and whitened.
"Kazana?!"
Present
It was on the fifteenth long, scrupulous read that Eric finally fisted the paper in his hands and released a frustrated growl.
"You're sure you found this there? Nobody planted it in his quarters?"
Tori rolled her eyes and tore the note from his hands.
"For the last time Eric it was in his safe. The only people with access to that are you and I, we saw you leave on the surveillance tape and it obviously wasn't me. Did you not find anything in the control room?"
"Nothing, it's as though the footage was on a loop."
With a loud exhale, her head thumped forward on the wall in frustration.
"Think he messed with the footage himself? Didn't want anyone to see the jump?"
Eric eyed her shrewdly, "Do you?"
The case was closed, there was nothing that either of the could do to reverse that now. With such solid evidence, the investigation could be considered complete.
And yet…it just didn't add up.
"No."
Breakfast and a side of scandal. It was only to be expected that news would travel quickly, the food hall was chaos as Dauntless members gathered together in a frenzy, hungry for further details.
Eric knew that once the savage thrill of a shocking fatality wore off, fear of the unknown would take its place. For the unexpected death of the Dauntless leader was nothing short of an enigma.
He was also aware that it would be up to him to unite the faction and instil hope when doubt begun to spread, but to glorify the suicide of the man who'd led them thus far, it was unthinkable.
His eyes were searching before his mind had begun, falling instantly on cascading waves of jet black hair. That sight alone was enough to taunt him with vivid images of the previous night.
Damn but she'd been fucking gorgeous, skin smooth, taut and marred with signs of his uncontrollable lust. Those stubborn eyes, dark and furious as he tried in vain to possess her mouth and the sounds of her ecstatic moans still sounded in his ears.
That had been until the sensual sighs turned to sobs.
Fuck knew he was still trying to figure that one out.
Irritation flared up as once again her presence broke through any semblance of rational thought, but it was nothing to the rage he felt when she turned to meet his gaze.
There were three things in which Kazana could take comfort.
The first, she had the serum that would allow her to pass initiation, and it was now in Four's possession.
The second, she had successfully destroyed any and all evidence that linked her to Max's death.
The third, she was still alive.
Solacing thoughts indeed, then came the powerful tirade of doubt that crushed those thoughts in to the ground.
A leader of Dauntless was dead because of her and the person leading the investigation into his demise happened to be the very same she had shamelessly seduced.
There was no guarantee that the serum would even work, it had been supplied to her by the same people who had stolen a man's freedom of will and watched as he tried to kill her in cold blood.
And should these same people, in their almighty omniscience reveal the very secret she had worked three years of her life to hide, death was an absolute certainty.
So, "No Wes, I'm not hungry."
"There is an array of pastries surrounding us and Kaz is not hungry. We're all doomed."
You have no idea.
"I think I just had too much to drink last night."
"Weird, I didn't see you around, and what did you do? Get in to a catfight?" Vesper grinned and reached out to prod her swollen lip; Kazana grabbed her finger with lightning speed and shot a warning look.
"No, I didn't get in to a catfight, can we move on?" Years of training to go undercover and she hadn't thought of a cover story for the bruises which covered the breadth of her face and neck, not to mention a nasty black eye. Fuck.
"Yeah, can someone please tell me what the hell happened to Max?" Double fuck.
"What's to tell? Sounds like suicide to me." Lisa mumbled through a mouthful of apple.
"Who cares? He was a right shithead," Turf chipped in, earning scandalized gasps further down the table. He turned to them with a wink and a salute.
Never had she been so eager to face her own fears as when the conversation took an unsavoury turn. Kazana decided to excuse her silence on a decided fascination with the people filtering out of the hall.
It was typical that as she craned round to feign this supposed interest, Eric's eyes were the first she saw. Paralyzing fear struck her as his expression morphed to that of fury, he knew.
He had to know. It was why he approached with such deadly fluidity, why silence befell the group as his molten stare remained fixed on her, and it was why they all scattered like wildfire when he addressed them coldly.
"Leave."
Those who had remained lingering in the hall made their way out with haste; she was now sat alone and unable to meet his eyes when he towered over her with palms flat on the table.
"How?" his voice was deadly quiet and it turned her blood to ice.
"I didn't, he just…"
"He?" Eric hissed.
Dread kept the words lodged in her throat, the end tasted bitter on her tongue.
"What happened?"
She swallowed shakily, "He was just…outside the door I-"
A heavy fist came down on the table causing her to jump out of her skin, she almost toppled from the bench when his large palm steadied her, it was warm on her back and she shivered involuntarily.
"Where is he? I'll kill him, I'll fucking kill him." He growled, and the hissed words were cool, vicious breaths in her ear.
"W-what?"
"Don't lie to me Kazana."
He didn't know… it was the bruises, he was furious about the bruises! She breathed a heavy exhale in relief, though it looked to him like a pained sigh.
So remiss was she in the falsity of his assumption that she had forgotten he was under an entirely different impression. One which showed fierce concern for her safety, and did he just…
"Did you just call me Kazana?"
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation.
"Tell me who it was that attacked you," he said then, almost deceptively calm, but Kaz heard the lethal tone in his voice.
Thoughts and images flashed through her mind as she tried to construct something, anything.
"I was…it was outside my door, the urm, outside the dorms, I didn't see them."
"Them? You said it was a he."
"I heard a man's voice, there were too many of them to fight off."
He didn't speak for a while, simply examined her face with sharp, glacial eyes.
"You were ranked second after stage one?"
"Uh...Yes?" What? What did that have to do with anything?
"Are you excelling in the simulations?"
Kazana blanched, which lie would cause less damage?
"Y-yes."
Eric inhaled sharply and leaned away, fingers taut and whitened as they clawed in to the table. It seemed like an eternity before he stepped back and she felt his incensed gaze scan her form once more. He turned from her without another word, and stormed out in silence.
Tortured screams had whittled away to mere whimpers that severed the still quiet of the corridor. The uneasiness that had surrounded the initiates like a toxic cloud did not disperse but it had become bearable, and some even deigned to hold conversations.
There was little that could be done to erase the trauma of the last few hours and though her nerves were shot to pieces, Kazana contented herself in delicately sipping a cup of water before her own simulation took place.
Wes watched her with wide eyed interest before finally speaking.
"Are you and Eric getting it on?"
She choked on her drink and jets of water spluttered on to his face.
"WHAT?!"
He shrugged hefty shoulders and wiped his cheek, mouth tilted in a lopsided grin.
"He seemed very eager to speak to you; I felt a lot of…" Wes leaned in and wiggled his fingers in a spooky motion. "Seeeeexuaaal tension."
Vesper, who had been observing the exchange with undisguised amusement, snickered at Kazana's horrified expression.
Blinking in surprise, Kaz tried to train her mouth in to a sardonic smirk.
"Did he really look happy to see me?"
Wes frowned.
"Well…come to think of it, no."
She tutted and observed them with overtly keen interest.
"If anyone should be addressing their unresolved sexual tension, it's the two of you. Oh that's me, bye!" Kazana left them in open mouthed shock and sauntered in to the room after Four.
What mirth she had derived from their expressions dissipated in moments as the door clicked shut behind her. The same metal chair was set in the centre of the room, next to the same machine beside the same computer screen.
But Four held three vials in his hand.
"I thought we could try tackling more than one fear today, now this should be enough ser-"
"No."
He glanced up at her then, brows furrowed in confusion.
"No? Kazana you've lost crucial time…"
"Four! For all we know those vials are filled with poison, I just barely escaped getting throw-" she cut herself off and glanced nervously at the twitching lens in the corner of the room. All the more wary of them now that she had seen the vast screens in the control room.
"I get that, I do, but you're facing your landscape in one week! You haven't even tackled one fear!"
The shimmering fluid bubbled angrily as he spun round to attach the needle, it looked like liquid fire.
She lowered herself in to the chair, jaw clenched as she tried to channel her fear through anger, the sharp metal was a hairsbreadth from her neck when she flinched away and the glass crashed on to the floor.
"KAZ!" Four exclaimed as they stared in horror at the hissing liquid, pooled on to the floor.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I just, fuck I just don't trust them Four I-"
He grasped her wrist, his dark eyes stern and sincere.
"Neither do I, none of this makes any sense but it's the only choice you have and…Kaz if what you've told me is true then if they wanted to kill you they'd have done it already."
She stared back at him for some time before swallowing heavily and giving a terse nod.
"Okay…okay then I'll do them. My fears, I'll do all of them."
Four's eyes widened as he fixed up another needle.
"I didn't say you ha-"
"I know. But I've already wasted one vial, and I just want to get them over and done with."
He remained frozen in indecision as she settled back in to the chair and closed her eyes.
"Just do it Four."
Lingering seconds passed before she felt the needle pierce her skin with a biting pinch. And then nothing at all.
One rarely experiences true darkness. Pure and undiluted by light, even with closed eyes there is always a heated fluorescence which teases the lids. It was in complete and wholesome darkness however, that Kazana stood in a state of disorientation.
It was a weightless sensation, as though she were nothing more than her consciousness. But such an idea was negated as she staggered to her knees with a craving that was painfully familiar. She became mere bones, gaunt flesh and bones and the hunger, it was excruciating.
It was as though all the sustenance in the world would not satisfy her, it was too strong, a ripping, tearing force that slaughtered her organs and crushed frail limbs. A scream tore through her throat but it came out as nothing more than a choking gasp, dry, her throat was so agonizingly dry.
She writhed on the floor in weak, aching twitches as the emptiness flowed from the inside out. Kazana took one final gasp of air, allowing sweet oxygen to soothe her roughened throat and fill the starving void.
Her lungs felt replete with the black swirling mist, it tasted like the most delicious elixir and it was rejuvenating. She inhaled another wholesome breath, and then another. Light began to fill the room in filtering bursts until finally; she had completely consumed the darkness.
There was a distinct shift as natural light filtered in to the room like a warm embrace; she was lying on an oak wooden floor. A soft glow illuminated her skin until it was almost translucent, and her hair was splayed out along the surface, like a dark shimmering mane.
The walls were windows, every single one, and somehow she just knew, that they all posed a different destination. A blissful smile touched her lips as she thought, how would the open breeze feel on her face? Warm? Crisp?
Kazana slowly shut her eyes. An elated laugh bubbled up through her, a giddy joy that spread all way to her fingertips. Overcome with the need to explore, to find out the answers to her questions she jolted up.
Yet nothing happened. Not a single muscle would move, it was as though a magnetic force was pulling her to the ground and not her arms, her torso not even her toes would twitch.
In vain she struggled, thrashing and clawing but it was all in her mind and panic began to surge through like an acidic wave. The glass became thick and clouded until she was surrounded by solid white walls, too white, it was far too white.
The panic turned to sickly terror as her arcane prison became visible, thick metal straps that held her in to place within a great white tomb.
She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing, willing that it would stop, that everything would just end but there were people, so many people and it all smelt so chemical, so harsh it choked her every sense and a man was coming towards her and he was just a figure, a blurry form of white, so much white and he was smiling and the walls were beginning to close and the machine, it encased her, it imprisoned her and he had a voice and she knew that voice she knew it. Letters, she saw letters, RPTS, the echoing voice began to sound and she didn't have time, and there she saw them on the walls, on their coats, everywhere, RPTS, RPTS, RPTS. There just wasn't enough time.
Someone was screaming. A shrill, grating sound that penetrated her mind like a blade it was so powerful. Kazana was trembling violently, her throat burned and then she knew it was her, omitting the ear-splitting cry that had Four backed in to the corner with his hands clapped over his head.
She drew in a haggard breath and heard his shaky sigh of relief, he lowered his hands warily. The vision was gone but the terror remained, her face and neck were damp with tears.
"W-what just…happened," she shuddered. Four crept over to the computer screen, scanning its contents with alarmed eyes.
"It started out readable, information was sent to the computer using the Amygdala but then something changed-" he stared at the computer shaking his head.
"The transmission became distorted; I could barely see a thing and then suddenly it just cut out."
"You mean like last time?" Kazana clenched her fists, desperate to release her anger out on something, like that useless fucking machine.
"No, it was working. I saw it. Your brain patterns show a change in stimulus, I can't be sure but it seemed to have activated the Hypothalamus. Maybe something triggered a memory, overpowered the hallucination somehow, I'm not sure."
"So those weren't all my fears? There's still more it just got interrupted?"
He walked over to open the door, as though desperate for fresh air, a new atmosphere. She saw then that he looked truly exhausted, it was difficult experiencing one's own fears and he had to witness hundreds.
"I guess we'll see tomorrow," he replied, rubbing his eyes, "You should get some sleep."
Her body ached to reach the welcoming splendour of her mattress, to cocoon herself in billowy blankets and shove two fingers up at the waking world.
Kazana dragged herself from the seat, limbs still stiff from the savage beating she'd received the previous night.
With each step towards the dormitories she allowed herself to glorify every detail of what was to come, the cool relief as she peeled off her training gear, a chilled pillow against her cheek and if life were in any way merciful, dreams that involved a surplus of food.
She greeted Lisa with a smiling yawn, and walked the rest of the way to her bed in a gentle haze. The sight that greeted her was sobering.
"Lisa…where's my stuff?"
BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG.
"ERIC OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"
The door in question was a towering metal structure of bolts and locks which led the way in to his living quarters. With each wham of Kaz's fist, echoing, metallic groans resonated but ultimately she was the one damaged as her hand began to throb painfully.
"I NEED MY THINGS, YOU CAN'T JUST KICK SOMEONE OUT IN THE MIDDLE ON THE NIGHT, I NEED AN EXPLANATION, ERIC OPEN THIS DOOR!"
She had made her with renewed energy to the Dauntless Leader's domain having received discomforted looks from the other initiates.
No reason had been given for the absence of her belongings, only that a gathering of guards had taken every last thing and left without a word. Kazana was in no doubt of the incentive, and she would not leave without a fighting chance.
After what seemed like an eternity of thunderous knocking, she resided herself to the fact he would not answer and rested her forehead against the chilled surface. Her clenched fist fell heavy and defeated on the wall beside her, palm smacking against smooth glass.
Beep.
The door swung open and it took quick, fumbling steps for Kaz to find her balance. She stood in the centre of the Dauntless leader's domain in a protective hunch, scanning the room with narrowed eyes.
Creeping confusion turned to full blown bafflement when she saw two steel cases beside his training equipment, within them she found her clothing, toothbrush and crumpled bed sheets.
"I did wonder if you'd figure it out," a deep voice sounded from behind her and she turned sharply to see Eric standing at the open door with crossed arms and a quirked eyebrow.
"Figured what out?! Is this your idea of a joke before you throw me out?"
His eyes hardened as he shut the door behind him, "Why would I throw you out?"
Kaz gaped at him for a few moments, suddenly quite certain her day could not get any weirder.
"Well I…you tell me! Why did you take all of my things?"
"Because you're staying here," he announced as though it were completely obvious, and it almost rendered her speechless.
"I…why?!"
"You were beaten to a pulp last night; I'd have thought it'd be obvious. You won't last through initiation if this continues, which would be a waste."
It was a compliment of sorts, even if it did make her feel like a disposable object. He thought the other initiates had done this, but that didn't justify anything.
"You can't do that; people will think the rankings-"
"Actually I can do whatever I want."
"But why not Tris, or Four even!"
"They're incompetent enough as it is, let alone with an initiate to babysit."
"Where would I sleep I-"
She saw his slow smirk and immediately saw red.
"I'M NOT SLEEPING IN YOUR BED, YOU CAN FORGET-"
"Interesting you should jump to that conclusion, there's actually a perfectly good sofa."
Her heard dropped on to the steel box with a loud thunk, she was so exhausted, both mentally and physically, it was all she could do not to pass out right there.
It had been her plan to continue seeing him; in fact the plan had been put in to place so that she would have access to his personal information. The opportunity was being offered to her on a silver platter, not to mention intimacy was no longer essential.
Despite the suspicious feeling that he was pushing another agenda, Kazana could not deny that his actions were decent, and she would always appreciate decency, even if he was a cold blooded killer.
Exhaustion began to take its toll as her head lulled to the side and she released a heavy exhale.
"Thank you."
He watched her carefully, evidently surprised at her gratitude but simply nodded and approached to grab a large shirt from the top of her box. The very same she had taken last night.
"It's only till the end of this week, after stage 3 you will leave."
Eric threw the dark material over his shoulder and fixed her with a cold look.
"And don't make a habit of stealing my clothes."
She'd been about to give a snapped reply about the lack of attire he'd left her in when both sense and realization dawned on her.
The shirt.
She'd been wearing the shirt; it was riddled with Max's DNA. How had that piece of crucial information managed to escape her? If Eric was making fast progress with the case then she had to know.
He turned away to move in to the kitchen, Kazana hastily followed.
"H-how is Max's investigation going?"
Eric leaned against the edge of the counter and filled a glass with water.
"It's not, the case it closed."
"Closed?"
"We found a suicide note in his apartment."
She paled, that wasn't possible.
"You don't think somebody planted it there?"
He leaned further back with the glass in his hand, arms covering the length of the counter as his steely gaze stayed on her. It still unnerved her, the way he could watch her so dominantly without a hint of shame, his arms and torso were covered in thin black material that emphasized sculpted muscle.
"The note was found in his safe, no one else has access to it."
No, no that couldn't be true. It had to be a lie, there had to be another explanation. Kazana stumbled back in to the stone arch and tried to comprehend the gravity of his words.
They had planted the note before she had even talked to him, before their interaction. They knew he was going to die; it didn't matter if she had taken the offer or not, they had planned for Max to die.
But why? What possible reason could there be for pre-empting the murder of a Dauntless leader? Especially after having expressed a sincere interest in the system's regularity?
"Can I see it?"
Eric narrowed his eyes, but after a few moments he brushed past her to the book shelf, he retrieved the note from hard pressed pages and held it out.
"There's nothing to see, I've tried deciphering it myself."
Her shivering fingers enclosed his as she took the worn paper from his hands, for once even the warmth of his hands and close proximity could not deter her trembling.
Regrettably I must inform you that my
place in this world holds little value.
Time has worn me down, made me a mere
shell of the man I once was. Forgive me.
He was right, it was generic. A simple note, there was nothing from which she could infer an explanation. She had been tempted to tear it to pieces, but such a display would not go unpunished, her eyes continued to scan the words desperately.
Regrettably I must inform you.
Time has worn me down.
An answer, she needed answers!
A mere shell, time has worn me down a mere shell, my place in this world, regrettably I must,
She stopped. A pattern, there were patterns in everything. There was beauty in chaos.
Regrettably, Place, Time, Shell.
RPTS.