Chapter 19
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.
Every single review that I have recieved has put a genuine smile on my face, thank you to everyone who has shown their support and I can only hope that I do your beautiful compliments justice.
Your theories may veer off into an entirely different direction once more, and if they do, I am eager to hear them! 'Toma' is pronounced Toh-Mah.
This chapter will be the final semblance of normality, the cracks are beginning to show...
Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent. I do own the soundtrack though and it had been on repeat for 4 months now...
The humidity in the air that night brought with it a bitter taste, a tangible acidity which caressed the tongue and breathed toxic kisses. Locks of vivid pink hair clung drably to her pallid skin and cool rain drops did little to ease the tension.
They fell as light pockets of water, taunting splashes against her flesh and the thick warm scent of damp cement clouded her senses.
A blurred vision of black approached slowly, smooth rubber over gravel and though the image was distorted through wet lashes, she knew who had come.
A sleek door was clicked open, its reflective surface glistened under the moon's glow and she wasted little time in sliding on to the dark leather within. Two men sat on either side in still silence; they were, in their morbid uniformity, a faceless duo.
"We assume," one began in a cold drawl, "that by your compliance to show up, everything has gone to plan?"
A sickly shiver reverberated through her body, a twisted, churning sensation in her gut.
"They've closed the case, everything has been done as you requested," she mumbled.
"And the girl?"
"She took the serums, about her progress…I don't really know how she's-"
"I believe we strictly specified that to be vital information, you are still following our instruction aren't you?"
"Y-yes, of course! I-"
"Because if we had reason to believe you were disobeying our orders, I'd hate to think what your sister would suffer for it."
She paled, trembling fingers gripped compulsively at her fuchsia strands.
"No please! Please you can't, I'll keep watching it's just difficult to get to her what with Eric-"
"Eric? The Dauntless Leader?"
"Y-yes, yes Eric, she's been staying in his quarters I think, I'm not sure."
A small smile curled on the blank man's lips, his eyes hidden behind black shades.
"How interesting."
She remained silent, her throat felt thick with fear as she swallowed heavily.
"You will continue to update us on the matter; we'll be in contact soon."
"Wait! W-wait please, my sister. She'll be safe won't she? You won't tell anyone…about her, her-"
"That depends on your consistent cooperation. Toma has been pleased with your work so far, we expect that standard to continue."
When the door opened once more, she was assaulted by the thick heat which clung to her atmosphere. Yet it offered a desperate comfort as she yearned to escape the artificial breeze tickling her skin, the first man moved aside and she scrambled from the vehicle.
It was only as a powerful growl omitted from the engine and a vast distance existed between them that a cold voice called to her from the open window.
"Oh and Sophie?"
She turned.
"The rogue trips to the Factionless District, have they continued?"
"N-not that I've seen…no."
"Good," he mused and a wall of glass edged up slowly, impeding the conversation any further.
Blinking red lights ascended in to the night and she was once more, alone.
An oppressive heatwave had fallen over the city, sunless warmth which crept under the skin and boiled blood. In any ordinary case, such heat would be insufferable but to stand in a titanium elevator beside Jeanine Matthews herself, Eric was quite literally at his wit's end.
"Marginal improvements," she said with eyes dead set on the doors before them.
"It is ready then?"
She released a short, derisive laugh. He gritted his teeth, determined to keep his steely gaze fixed straight ahead.
"Not in the least, I dare say it won't be applicable for six months at the earliest."
He exhaled a sharp breath through his nose; turning to her then with clenched fists.
"Six, months?"
Her cold, calculating eyes observed his vexation with a smug sense of condescension.
"I want everything to be perfect."
"It was my impression that you wanted the Divergent dealt with."
"Oh and I do," she insisted, regarding him then with pursed lips, "Tell me, how is your progress with the rebels coming along? It's come to my attention that there are now renegades within Dauntless."
He met her cold smirk with an impassive expression, though his eyes held a glint of warning.
"That hasn't been confirmed. They are just rumours."
"Hmm, I should hope that they are. Because it seems there are liabilities within the other Factions as well and you know what that could lead to."
Eric knew well to what she was referring, traitorous tendencies ran like a venomous undercurrent to their society. The Faction System existed as a carefully crafted structure, one he had lived through and come to lead. It was his responsibility that no weaknesses existed which could impair this order.
"If any such people are found," he began as the doors opened and they stepped out to turn their separate ways.
"They will be dealt with accordingly."
A jovial ambience reflected in lifted voices and the raucous laughs which echoed through the food hall that morning. No doubt fuelled by the sticky heat and fevered tension that existed in anticipation of stage 3.
All of the merriments in this world could do little to pierce through Eric's rapidly descending mood, a commonality that came to result from Jeanine's nagging.
There was however, another matter, that of the man who stood beside him, gazing down at the tables below. The balcony afforded them a scopic view of the Dauntless members and it proved fitting as they saw fit to make the occasional speech, rile everyone up, instil unity.
A flare of irritation ran through him as the smallest details seemed unacceptable. For example, Sloane's aftershave cut through the air like a poisonous gas.
Tori gnawed relentlessly at the skin of her fingernails causing the odd click to resonate and he tensed at the sound.
Finally, there was the announcement that tasted acrid on his tongue and he drew out the moments in which he would not have to voice it.
Cold grey eyes scanned the breadth of the hall in search for a single pair. As though touched by his stare, Kazana, small and dark amongst the bustling crowd looked up to meet his gaze.
They stared in silence, and an absurd desire to smile fell upon him before he quashed the notion, instead drinking in the sight with cool indifference.
Her eyes darted away momentarily, Eric followed Kaz's gaze to see Sloane watching her with equal compulsion. Scorching ire ignited within him as she bit her lip and looked away, never once daring to look back.
Such a reaction could not be borne from nothing, a history existed between the two and Eric would not let it rest until he knew what.
"QUIET," he demanded in a sharp, resonating tone. Immediately the hall fell in to silence, as all eyes sought him out with avid attention.
"Yesterday we recognized the passing of an important figure to our brave community."
Frantic whispers and nods in assent broke out through the tables before hushing down once more under his cold stare.
"Today we see the dawn of a new Dauntless Leader," he continued, though the words burned his throat and clawed at his conscience.
"We have seen the forces that threaten to destroy this great Faction of ours. It is up to us to decide where we belong, and to eradicate those who don't. Let this be a warning to them that your leaders will not cower under duress! Today, we recognize the birth of a new age!"
Eric watched as Sloane raised both arms in to the air.
"YEAH!" He roared.
"YEAH!" The hall broke out in to deafening yells, fists whooped at the table as a swarm of bodies stood to applaud wildly.
Only one stayed seated in silence, and when her dark eyes met his, they were enraged.
Rich melodic sounds slowed her world down; they were in their classic extravagance a soothing masterpiece. It was as though the glassy haze in which she had sought to view reality cleared and revealed to her a pearly white haven.
A duo of flutes accompanied her scattered thoughts, strings lulled Kazana in to a dizzied trance and the single violin cried for a stolen future. But none of that mattered, for she was the chosen one, a diamond in the rough and he had recognized that. What a kind man he was, the closest one could have to a father.
Men in dark green uniforms roamed the laboratory as she stood elevated on a platform, for once looking down on others and it made her feel like royalty.
Kazana hummed along to the sweet highs and stern lows, swaying from one side to the other as an array of workers buzzed below her. My Loyal Followers, she decided as they glanced up occasionally to observe her swishing form.
Mirthful eyes gazed on, she curtsey to the benign man with a giggle.
"Toma? May I get down now?" The words sounded strange on her tongue.
"Later, my sweet," he called and though it perturbed her she let herself go once more to the light sensations.
"Desyat," What a chilling voice, she decided it quite unsavoury as a sudden tiredness sunk in to her limbs.
"Devyat," Almost, she yawned, robotic.
"Vosem," A cold sensation ran through her body, as though plunging in to ice cold water.
"Sem," No, not water…liquid metal, and it was turning her blood to stone.
"Shest," "T-toma! I can't move! Toma!"
"Pyat," Walls were closing in, a rounded prison.
"Chetyre," His eyes were alight with curiosity, watching the spectacle as though it were a captivating opera.
"Tri," The music was reaching a crescendo, and how the violin pined.
"Dva," He was approaching her now, gazing upon her through a fogged window as her heavy pants fell on glass.
"Odin,"
"Sladkikh Snov," he whispered as darkness prevailed once more.
Sorrowful harmonies continued as a quiet echo when consciousness returned.
It was not so much a fearful feeling; it was on this occasion a bittersweet betrayal.
"Who was he?" Four asked.
Kazana lay still, unable to even open her eyes; so many questions still went unanswered. Yet part of her felt like she knew. As though the resolution was hidden deep in the recesses of her mind but she was powerless to see it.
"I don't know."
But she did. He had meant something to her once, as a young girl. Toma.
Her instructor leaned against the wall with arms crossed, observing her still form with brimming frustration.
"You still didn't face your fear."
Kaz opened her eyes, staring up at the flickering light.
"No," she agreed.
"Your final test is tomorrow."
"It is."
He watched in disbelief as she continue to gaze on blankly, completely oblivious to the severity of his words.
"Kazana, this is it! Your last day, there are no more chances! You're going to go in to your fear landscape tomorrow alone and there won't be another opportunity, you'll just be gone!"
A heavy weight had settled in to her stomach, dawning anxiety and a simmering anger which refused to dissipate.
Her body burned but it was not with the stifling heat, she yearned to find a release, to scream her lungs raw and claw in to the walls, scratch and tear, she longed to destroy.
But Four didn't deserve that.
So he watched with dismay as she came to a stand and walked gently out of the room, shutting the door with a firm click.
Fury thrived on submission, when an uncontrollable force takes wind what better victim than passivity? Weakness could be found in all living forms; it just took the tenacity to find it take what angers lay within to inflict upon them mercilessly.
Yet there was no better ally to rage than solitude, it forced that feeling to a simmer, so that there may be no poor soul to receive vexation's onslaught.
Eric was a man, who knew his hatred well. So accustomed was he with his own anger that measures had already been taken to prevent it. Because an enraged mind was a passionate one, and no leader could thrive solely on passion, he was after all, still a man of logic.
In that, the reason existed as to why he kept his private living quarters just that…private.
It was his space, a place to think, a place to plan. With nobody around to disturb him, his dark mood could burn slowly like the flames at which he stared. Eric settled in to his seat in an attempt to regain some semblance of calm before patrol began.
Yet as he sat there now, it was impossible not to think back to the previous night and to inky waves rippling down ivory skin.
He did not know why he felt so maddeningly possessive, so incensed. Did she know?
Eric had resided himself to the idea that he would pay no attention to these questions, they weakened him, ate away at his rationality but it could not be resolved if he did not acknowledge it.
So he deciphered the situation and saw himself at fault, he had ultimately invited her in to his home, in to his life. It had been through this invasion, her constant presence that he had started to lose his mask.
It left only one option really.
If anything were to have acted as the nail in her proverbial coffin then the sight of Sloane's belongings stacked in boxes outside Max's door was it.
"Kaz," he greeted with a slow grin that made her stomach churn.
She was halfway through opening the door to her temporary living quarters when he closed the distance between them and leaned in to the wall.
"I guess we'll be seeing a lot more of each other now."
Kazana was in close proximity to the man who'd hunted her down as a child. He was engaging her in conversation, no, clinging to her like a disease as she stood in the home of the man who led the Faction commissioning her death sentence.
Needless to say, she was not a fan of either. They'd have once had her head, and now what did they want? Her body?
Well this one would have to back off before she gave him another scar.
"Oh I'll be gone soon so mercifully not," she spat, edging further through the door when he grasped her wrist suddenly. A clammy palm which chafed her skin and sent sickly shudders down her spine.
"I'm sure we can come to some sort of arrangement," he drawled.
Kaz ripped her arm from his hold and stormed in to the apartment, slamming the door behind her. So wrapped up in her own rage was she that the lithe form on the sofa had gone unnoticed as he sat in flickering shadows.
"What did he want?"
She froze, turning on her heel to see now silver in the darkness.
"Nothing," she said with what little cordiality she had left.
"It didn't sound like nothing," he stood slowly then, a tall shadowed form against the stone mantle.
"You wouldn't have heard anything at all if he wasn't, Living. Next. Door.
"That doesn't answer my question."
"No. You're right," she snarled, "It opens another, why the fuck is he a Dauntless Leader!"
If Eric was taken aback by her language he did not show it, simply took a step forward to glare down at her dangerously.
"Why is it a problem to you?"
"Because I find him repellent!"
"It didn't seem that way to me," he sneered.
She stood before him; her body trembling as she seriously contemplated kicking his open wound.
"I should have known you wouldn't understand, you're as bad as him!"
His eyes glinted threateningly as he approached with slow deliberation.
"What is that supposed to mean,"
"It means you're nothing but filthy, twisted murderers," she hissed.
"I really don't think you're in a place to cast aspersions considering you fucked a filthy, twisted murderer."
"I-that's not, you can't just-"
"Oh don't back down now," he taunted, "and here I thought we were actually getting somewhere."
"Don't you dare use that against me!" she tore her hands through her hair, nails dug in to soft scalp. "Fuck, you make me sick!"
A muscle worked in his jaw but he remained entirely still, watching her with venomous contempt.
"Anything else you want to say?"
Kazana thought back to the tense excitement which had filled her as she gazed up at him that morning, only to have it dissipate in seconds when the hall resonated with the words of a mad man. She remembered the resolve in his eyes as he had condemned every peasant, every dirty street rat just like her to a damning fate, how those same eyes had gazed ardently at her only hours before and how it half felt so real.
"You're WEAK!" she yelled, "You put on such a macho act of possessing real power and making great changes but you do nothing! There are people starving! Getting kicked out of their homes because they can no longer navigate around this fucking death trap and now when things seem at their absolute worst, when people look to you to make a difference, YOU RECRUIT A FUCKING PSYCHO!"
Her entire body tremored as furious adrenaline pulsed through her veins and his face which so often gave away nothing was contorted with seething anger.
She held her ground as he took a menacing step forward, barely a hairsbreadth between them as he leaned down with a growled intonation.
"Do you want to know what makes me hate you?"
A rough palm pressed against her chest until she was backed in to the stone wall, his fingers dug grooves in to her throat when a low voice hissed in to her ear.
"You're afraid," ashen eyes bore cruelly in to her own, "You're afraid so you put on this act, feign sensitivity and innocence, and try with such desperation to fit in as though it will become you but you know," the warm hand slid to cover the breadth of her throat leaving gooseflesh in its wake.
"You know when it's late at night, and you're lying alone in bed planning your next day of falsities, that behind the coy smiles you harbour this need to conform because you're scared someone will finally get to look inside of you…and find you hollow."
Seconds ticked by, a charged silence befell them with nothing but the fire's charred crackles to permeate the deathly quiet. She had been flayed open to bare bones and fragility before him. It had been an agonizing exposure, not the simplicity of a nude form no; this was a chilling insight to her very being. He had delved deep in to the recesses of her soul and come out…empty.
"Your things will be packed and waiting for you tomorrow evening."
The enraged passion that had shadowed his eyes was gone, leaving them cold.
And when he left, the draft against her skin served as the only reminder of his absent touch.
Not even the sight of Solomon's thrashing, tormented body appeased Kaz's thoughts as she and her fellow initiates waited patiently in the observation room. Half an hour had passed, and still he did not emerge which she knew would do grave damage to his ranking.
But where it might have relieved her, sickly anticipation churned within and cold words continued to echo in her mind.
"What the hell is that?!" Turf guffawed when a hulked shadow fell over the group.
Kazana pulled her gaze away from the room aside and joined the others in a slack-jawed gape as Wes stood before them shirtless and sporting a floor length fur cape. His face had been completely covered in black paint, and dark inky strips covered his arms and torso.
"This," he announced, "Is my warrior gear."
Everyone blinked up at him in a moment's silence as he placed his hands on his hips and looked out in to the distance meaningfully.
"Wes…it's a simulation. It takes place in your mind," Vesper said, shaking her head.
"As our forefathers wrote in the ancient factional proverb, 'thou shalt not fight fear whilst dressed like a nerd'."
Kaz felt her face break out in the first real smile she had experienced all day as the young man marched over to Four, who looked unsurprisingly bewildered, and accepted his injection before entering the landscape room with arms held high.
"Absolutely bonkers," Vesper muttered with a small grin, fastening her vibrant hair in to a slick ponytail.
What amusement she had felt simmered away in seconds as her eyes fell on the man who was currently hooked up the simulation, they had not seen each other since the previous night and for that at least she was relieved.
Laughter roared in her ears as Wes, in the midst of his fears, belly flopped on to the floor and wormed his way along it in retreat of an unknown attack.
After what seemed a considerable age, though she knew it had not been long as her friend proved himself a brave warrior indeed, her name was called.
A silent conversation passed between Kazana and her trainer as he pressed the needle in to her skin.
So this is it…
Yeah.
Four watched with raw anxiety when her hand hesitated on the door's handle, before she pulled it open and walked on through.
The warmth was absent this time round, and where Kazana had once stood on an empty path, she now found herself in the centre of a vast forest. Thick mists danced through the air, a cool embrace on her flesh. There was a startling contrast of rich greens amidst an indigo sky and the entire effect seemed almost fantastical.
A small brush of skin against her own alerted Kaz to a small figure vying for her attention. She looked down to see large, saddened eyes, the young girl.
"He's gone," she whimpered softly.
Raising her hand to gently cup the girl's chin, she lowered herself to her knees and obsidian eyes bore in to each other, a silent understanding.
"I'm here now," Kazana pulled the shivering body in to a tight embrace. "I'm here."
Damp tears soaked through the cotton of her vest, and dread dawned upon her once more as a familiar heat licked at her back.
"No," she whispered to herself, "Not now."
But her quiet pleas went unanswered as roaring flames ignited in to an electric blue wall, howling winds tore in their direction and it was as though a powerful force was beckoning her away.
Angry caws sounded from above, a swarm of blackbirds circled in the sky and threatening shadows hovered within the trees, yet the pull of the fire grew ever more ardent.
A painful ache ripped through her heart as she moved out of the little one's hold, fearful confusion marred her infantine features.
"I'm sorry," Kazana murmured, but a vicious gale forced her words in to oblivion. She turned to the scorching hot blaze and knew in that moment what she must do.
With slow, tentative steps, she approached the cackling flames and submerged herself in to the heat, leaving her innocence behind.
The black was back, an all-consuming eclipse that demanded absolute stillness.
But she'd tackled this before, it would come as no surprise and Kazana could move through it quickly.
Or so she'd thought. The savage hunger attacked in mere moments, a vicious blow that knocked her to the floor, she fell on her knees gasping, deep desperate inhales. Clinging to the belief that it would defeat the dark.
With each passing second her attempts became more frantic, needy pants that brought no alleviation.
Time was escaping her, seeping like smoke through her fingers, why did the solution not exist?
Another voice answered from deep within her sub-conscience.
Because you can't fight it.
Her struggles ceased. Kazana lay trembling on the hidden surface, staring out in to nothing.
You have to embrace the dark.
I can't! She thought back desperately, I've fought too long for the light.
How can you learn to love the light when you do not know dusk?
She squeezed her eyes shut and though her body continue to shake violently, her pants slowed to subtle breaths, and she found solace in obscurity.
Her first fleeting thought as she stood staring in to Eric's fireplace, was that she was completely alone.
Kazana had been certain of it, but then she always was.
"You're afraid," his voice came as an echoing reminder and brought with it the intoxicating scent.
Then he was behind her, his hot breath a vicious yet tantalizing hiss.
"It's all an act," his lips spoke against her neck and soon they were brushing sensuous kisses along her jaw with deep sumptuous inhales as though trying to thieve away her essence.
But the blissful breaths turned once more to smoke which overpowered her senses, thick muscular arms held her against his chest as poisonous fumes filled the air.
"Why are you doing this?" she whimpered, and a sensual chuckle tickled her neck.
"Hollow," was all he said, turning Kazana to capture her lips in a deep, consuming kiss, and in it she found the acidic fog filter in to her throat, choking and searing her windpipe.
To become Dauntless you have to face your fear no matter what the cost to your comfort, happiness or even your sanity. Hadn't that been what she was told?
Yet how did one face this? A powerful seduction, a cruel game between treacherous players, he would swallow her whole and leave nothing.
So Kazana would have to play, the only way one could in such a betrayal. Her arms came to weave around his neck, pulling him closer, and though his flesh charred an excruciating burn, she did not relent. Ripping away from his embrace to snarl in his ear,
"I am not afraid," and a dark glint danced in his eyes before then their mouths crashed together, a painful yet exquisite need for dominance.
Scorching burns were a blessing in comparison to the immediate chill that swept over her. Taking in its wake the current sights and sounds to leave her in a renewed purgatory.
She knew this fear, it had plagued her for days, tormented her conscience with teasing images that refused to form a clear vision. She knew because it was real, it had been real and now what lay before her was a picture of perfect clarity.
If Kazana had known what reality would show her, she'd have revoked her wish to find out.
It was a laboratory, clean, white and sterile. The smell of rubber and antiseptic filled her nostrils, and though it all felt painfully familiar, her movements felt too minuscule, too light. As if she had reduced in size to a mere child and a strange desire to giggle tickled her throat.
Men and women interweaved through desks and machinery, a swarm of dark green and crisp white coats. She saw now the gathering of men who tried to keep a large crowd at bay, they stood behind a barrier with strange devices in their hands that flashed and clicked.
Screaming voices were lost to the soothing sounds of a violin concerto; it lulled her in to a sense of peace and proved a fitting soundtrack to her riotous thoughts.
A myriad of expressions existed within the throng of people, furious tears and carnal excitement but what echoed in her ears was the constant scream of a desperate woman.
"Nyat!" she screeched. Kazana heard it then, it was as though a distinct shift had taken place in her brain and an unwritten puzzle had been deciphered. She understood every word.
"No!" she was saying, "NO!"
Overwhelmed by the frenzied attention she turned her gaze to the kindly man staring up at her; extravagant robes adorned his tall, wiry body.
"Toma," she called to him, the words fell naturally from her tongue, lilted with sweet familiarity. "May I get down now?"
Kazana was graced with a charming smile as he brushed idly over the emblem on his robes, RPTS.
"Later, my sweet," his robust voice carried easily over the music, which began to pick up in tempo.
An unusual sound echoed through the open lab, cold and artificial it sent shivers down her spine but in the words she could now find sense.
"Ten," it was a female, the robotic voice.
"Nine," the crowd could barely contain themselves, and the constant screams of an incensed woman thrummed in hear ears. "NO!" the distant lady cried, "NO! NO!"
"Eight," what reassurance she had found in his smile left the moment her platform jolted and a creeping feeling began to enter in to her bones.
"Seven," erratic yells merged with the building crescendo of tortured strings, a metallic echo sounded and instilled in her a desire to struggle.
"Six," six?! Her mind whirred frantically, six what! Pristine steel began to close in around her, lined with a smooth white exterior. Mounting confusion sent her beating heart in to overdrive.
"Five," Kazana found her voice then, though it seemed nothing else would move, and the aching clicks of her jaw alerted her to a swelling sense of numb.
"TOMA!" her young voice begged, strangled and muted behind enclosing glass.
"Four," white flashing lights were blinding as they emerged from the crowd, blurring the approaching figure who gazed up at her with raw magnetism. She pleaded to him through a clouded surface.
"Three," Her eyes darted to the wall behind him, she squinted as magnificent letters were written over and over, blurred in a haze.
"Two," TIME. A single word stood out to her, no there had to be more…RUSS…but her eyes were glazing over and they searched in vain.
"One."
"Sweet dreams," he whispered and it was the last thing that she heard before all went blank.
When Kazana came to, she stood stoic still within the empty room. Every muscle had ceased up and it was only as the door flew open, and a sobering breeze rolled in, that she collapsed to her knees and felt once more.
It would have been appropriate in that moment to worry; to wonder at her results but her mind was replete with severed images. Toma…his name had been Toma; and she had loved him in a childish way, the way an animal might idolize its owner.
Bodies were lifting her and there were crazed voices in Kazana's ears but they went unheard. In the new found light of the observation room her gaze snapped to the three chairs in which her observers had sat. Whilst two Dauntless Leaders remained, regarding her in open fascination, one had not lingered and the third seat continued to spin crookedly from his rash departure.
Drops of perspiration clung to heated skin, Kazana's black ensemble felt stiflingly tight as the initiates gathered in the dining hall for their results. She closed her eyes and attempted to focus on the heavy rhythm fists created on the tables as members whooped and cheered.
Yet in that moment it was a tribal drum, thundering against the surface and reverberating off the walls as though offering up a sacrifice. She certainly felt like one then, a spiritual offering to some ethereal beast, in her mind's eye that beast was a machine, surrounded by screaming crowds and scientists.
Had it given her away? She'd had no option of retaliating, no chance for escape. Were the roaring chants pre-empting her failure?
So lost in her doubts was she that speeches of hope and courage held no impact, they fell on deaf ears. Never had Kazana expected to look up then and see dark eyes staring back at her on the screen above, a photo which had been taken months in advance. In it her raven hair hung dull and drab against pallid skin, and gaunt features betrayed a life of pain and hardship.
But there it was. Right beside the number two spot.
1 Lisa
2 Kaz
3 Wes
4 Vesper
5 Marty
6 Turf
7 Solomon
8 Harry
9 Tanya
10 Cam
11 Bernie
12 Lara
13 Reggie
14 Paul
Ecstatic screams and shouts of laughter surrounded her as she was lifted off the ground and carried on a wave of black, beside her Lisa sported a joyful grin. She had gone from the bottom spot straight to top of her class, and if Kazana had not been so caught up in her own relief she might have questioned this strange elevation.
Wes banged his fists on his chest enthusiastically and pulled Vesper in to a fierce kiss, it had been a long time and coming and few could help but smile at the romantic display.
Surprised delight gave way to a dawning discomfort however as the crowd parted and Kaz saw a familiar face staring at their group with sombre eyes.
Sophie stood at the edge of the celebrations, kohl smudged and red rimmed as her vivacious hair hid beneath a large hood. Noticing Kazana's curious stare, she backed away from the throng of bodies and turned to leave. A predominantly stubborn will had her following the older girl out, and soon she was breaking in to a run to catch up.
"Wait!" Kaz called out but she had to reside herself to the fact Sophie just didn't want to be caught.
Whilst everyone remained gathered together to continue on with the festivities, the uneven corridors leading out of The Pit were eerily empty.
Bubble-gum locks flew around the corner and retreating footfall grew quieter until she was left completely alone.
It was the first real moment of solitude she'd had all day and reality was an ice cold realization when she heard victorious cheers beneath her feet. They were celebrating a new life, a certain future within the Dauntless Faction, and although she had succeeded in her mission so far, what was there to commend?
These people had not experienced the cruel bite of winter's chill in their bones as another night was spent amongst filth and waste. And as far as they were aware, neither had she.
So what did that make her? Dauntless?
No.
No, she had once been the victim to crazed eyes and armed weapons; she had torn away with barely the clothes on her back as Dauntless members sought to eradicate her kind.
Yet this still happened did it not? Would it now be she who pulled the trigger?
In the midst of her inner turmoil, dazed steps had taken her to the grand arch of the leader's quarters.
Oh.
Of course, Eric had seen everything, and her imagination had been so vivid in conjuring images of their inescapable bond. Kazana's humiliation was nothing to the pain that washed over at his words.
"Your things will be packed and waiting for you."
With a heavy heart she pressed her hand to the pad beside his door, and swallowed thickly when it clicked open. This was it.
And how she tried to ignore his delicious scent which wrapped around her like a second skin, and fought the feelings of familiarity his stone palace evoked in her.
Kazana tried, she really, really did.
"What have you done to me," her voice was nothing more than a hushed whisper.
Advancing in to his domain, she glanced around in search of her belongings. Of course she shouldn't have expected for him to make it easy.
After rifling through the kitchens, behind the sofa, bookshelf and training area she softly crept through his bedroom and peered through the deepest arch.
A quiet tremor ran through her as she approached the sink and ran her finger over the damp bristles of her toothbrush.
Kaz did not know why the suspicion had crept up on her, how the idea had manifested in her head but she suddenly found herself rushing to his cupboard and throwing the doors open.
Her clothes were all there, hung in neat dark rows beside his.
Her lungs felt replete with too much air, and her chest, it was as though it contained too much feeling, so much so that it ached. She allowed her legs to give way beneath her, falling against the bed to brush her cheek against soft sheets.
And then he was there. In the doorway, staring down with such a cold, blank expression it almost made her want to laugh. Because his eyes were all that mattered, eyes the colour of lead, of steel, cool unfeeling metal and it was entirely him.
In the raw hold of their gaze, it was acknowledged, a silent acceptance.
They didn't say a word, not one. How could they? They were too far gone.
Static skies and violent showers chased Kazana in to the warehouse as a furious thunderstorm took place that evening. Far in to the night when all had come to rest, she wrapped herself in his layers and breathed in the oak smoked scent that permeated winter air.
Cain's sombre form stood by the window as Evelyn sat at the makeshift desk, her face illuminated only slightly by a flickering candle.
"It's done."
Their heads turned immediately in her direction, breathing relieved sighs when they recognized Kaz's sodden figure. They demanded details, to which she gave the bare minimum but it seemed to be enough.
"You will be residing there permanently?" Cain asked, as she explained the strange aftermath of Max's demise.
"Until you give the go-ahead, yes."
Evelyn turned to Cain with an arched brow, "She's come further than I ever would have imagined, I never thought a Dauntless Leader could be ensnared so easily…"
"I don't think it's safe, she wasn't trained for this."
"She has made more progress in one month than any of us; she can handle the pressure just fine."
"If he finds out-"
"Eric won't find out, as long as she does her job properly. Leave us."
Cain shook his head incredulously and stormed out of the room. Kazana remained quiet, staring resolutely at mottled walls.
Evelyn turned to her with a stern expression.
"You must of course keep him hooked, continue giving us information. Remember where your loyalty lies. We need you."
"Me?" she looked up then, "My body you mean?"
Evelyn stuttered at her abrupt reply, "No-I mean you…Just keep up the pretense Kazana, this won't continue forever. It'll be over soon."
"Soon?" Kaz breathed a shaky sigh, her expression hardened as she came to regard her guardian with a bitter smile.
"Don't tell me soon," she spat, "do not look me in the eye and say that you know when it'll be over. I have waited, with bated breath for your command but you just reset the clock and say 'one day.' If you think, that for one moment I would still be alive were this a lie then I suggest you look again."
"That's enough," Evelyn hissed, eyes wide in shock but it could not be stopped.
"He plays this game better than I ever could, forces his way in, he fills me like a toxic poison and I accept it! I relish in contamination!"
"Stop-"
"And when I finally come undone I think in that moment, as I breathe in death's scent maybe this will be it."
"Don't-"
"I see him for the monster that he is, just as he sees me, like he knows it's real, and as the truths lie open I wonder how this will end, whose organs will splay out on naked skin when SOON FINALLY COMES!"
Evelyn smacked her across the face, a sharp, heavy blow which resonated through the walls.
"I d-," the older woman's breaths fell in furious pants, "I don't want to hear about your ridiculous infatuation."
A grim smile touched Kazana's lips as she held her bruised jaw.
"You have a job to do; it's come too far for you to fail now. Gather the information, blueprints, weapons; I don't care how you do it, just get it done."
Diluted light filtered in as Evelyn made to leave, Kaz watched her shadow reflect on to the wall, mimicking her passive stance.
"Do not endanger this mission because of your misguided emotions," she snarled before slamming the door behind her.
Kaz crept in to the furthest alcove of the room and traced over the jagged K in the wall with a trembling finger.
"It's too late," she murmured in to the darkness.
It's far too late.