A/N: As promised, this chapter includes some major discoveries. Enjoy!

YEAR 2250: AGES 15-16

June 15

Andrew

Mr. and Mrs. Carr sat at the kitchen table, muttering to each other as they sorted through a gigantic pile of documents. Across the table, Andrew idly typed out some codes on his laptop, while his brother Perrier played outside. Watching the intense concentration with which his parents worked, Andrew wondered how long it would take for them to notice if both their sons were to suddenly vanish off the face of the Earth.

Probably never, he reflected with mild amusement, until some administrator in school contacts them. Andrew glanced at his watch, wondering if there was still enough time to run down to the library and borrow some books. However, it was the date, not the time, that caught his attention: June 15.

"Hey, today's the Choosing Ceremony!" Andrew blurted out suddenly.

His parents barely looked up from their work. "You know we never go to those," replied Iris flatly. "It's a complete waste of time."

Andrew frowned. "But you will go when it's my turn, right?"

"We'll worry about that in a couple of years…" Mrs. Carr mumbled and turned back to her work.

One of these days they're going to forget they even have children, thought Andrew. "Mom. I'm choosing next year."

Iris didn't appear to have heard him, but Leon jerked his head up. "You are?!"

"Yes! I'm fifteen, and everyone chooses when they're sixteen!" He laughed at their startled expressions.

"Operation Convergence!" Mr. Carr shook his wife's arm urgently. "We need to pass it on!"

Iris yelped and sent papers cascading over the floor. "AH! I totally forgot!"

"Pass on what?" asked Andrew, bewildered.

Mrs. Carr clutched her head. "Oh dear…how are we going to explain this without the database?"

"That's the problem." Leon looked as flustered as his wife did. "I guess we'll just have to stick with the general faction setup and war strategy. Why oh WHY did the Matthews insist on keeping everything in their lab computers?!"

"Matthews! Shouldn't we tell Jeanine about this too?"

"Of course! Her grandfather masterminded the whole plan!"

Andrew watched their exchange in utter confusion. I haven't seen them this distressed in years. "WHAT IN THE NAME OF ERUDITE ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!"

Mr. Carr ignored him and raced up to his study. Mrs. Carr waved her arms in the general direction of the living room. "Andrew, go call up Jeanine and tell her to come here while your father and I attempt to locate some files. And make sure Perrier stays out." With that, she ran upstairs.

What could possibly be so important it would make them act like this? Andrew wondered as he picked up the phone. Why can't Perrier know? And what was that about the Matthews?

He punched in the numbers and waited on edge as the phone rang once, twice, thrice…

Jeanine picked up on the tenth ring. "Hello?"

"It's me, Andrew. Listen, I have some rather strange news for you. I was telling my parents about how I will be choosing my faction a year from today, and they suddenly panicked and started yelling something about 'Operation Convergence.' It sounded like it was a joint project between your parents and mine. Can you come to my house? They want to explain it to us."

"'Operation Convergence'?" Jeanine sounded skeptical. "I went through all of the files on my parents' computers after they died, and I never saw anything of the sort. Was it an experiment or an applicable procedure?"

"I don't know any more than you do. I only just heard about it," Andrew explained. "Please, could you just come over?"

"Yes, definitely," she answered. "This is suspicious."

The Carrs emerged from their study just as Jeanine arrived. The teenagers settled down on opposite ends of the couch and watched as Mr. and Mrs. Carr hauled in several bulging folders. Hearing the commotion, Perrier tried to edge into the living room, only to be swiftly thrown out by his father.

"So, what is this 'Operation Convergence'?" Jeanine prompted Andrew's parents as soon as they had dumped everything on the coffee table. Mr. and Mrs. Carr looked at each other.

"Well, let's start from the very beginning," said Leon, taking a deep breath. "Okay. Kyle Matthews's father, Wyatt Matthews, or Jeanine's paternal grandfather, apparently started out as a factionless man. Somehow, he met Kyle's mother, Claire, who managed to persuade the Erudite to let Wyatt join the faction. Obviously, the factions were not as strict about this kind of thing back then as they are now. Several years later, Wyatt died of some kind of virus, just before Kyle was born. When Claire cleaned out his study, she found a secret compartment behind his main laboratory, stashed with exotic technology—"

"Exotic technology?" Andrew cut in.

"Satellite dishes, GPS, sonar equipment, and the likes. Things we thought we had forgotten how to make after the Prefaction War," Iris explained.

"In there were also several hard disks with terabytes upon terabytes of data. It obviously contained extremely sensitive information, for most of it was encrypted with a highly complex algorithm. Claire, unable to crack the codes, left the equipment and hard drives alone and gave them to Kyle when he grew up. Mr. Matthews, who was far more adept at computers than his mother was, immediately set about unlocking the files. It didn't take long before he realized that the documents detailed an extensive plan for some kind of citywide takeover. Interestingly enough, there was a whole subdirectory with instructions 'for the Carr family.' This is why the Matthews let us in on the secret. After years of hectic decoding, we unearthed a whole flood of weapons blueprints, lab experiments, war plans…"

"Hang on!" Jeanine interrupted. "Was my grandfather born factionless?"

"And why was he trying to take over the city?" Andrew added, feeling the room sway.

"Nobody knows about Wyatt's past, actually," admitted Mrs. Carr. "He never even discussed it with his wife. As for why he would be planning to seize control, a lot of that information was contained in folders we couldn't open. But from what we were able to decipher, whoever created the plans thought the integral structure of the faction system is flawed."

In response to the baffled looks on Andrew's and Jeanine's faces, Leon asked, "How much do you know about the Prefaction War?"

"It began in 2065 and lasted until 2086," Jeanine answered promptly. "So much governmental data was destroyed that we no longer know precisely why the war happened. But it was a worldwide struggle between nations vying for power and resources."

"Correct," said Mr. Carr. "This is why the factions were formed: to straighten out the human race. But apparently, Wyatt believed that the city was designed incorrectly so that it would create a mutant, evil form of human known as the Divergent. These are people who have no single good quality and hence cannot be sorted into one faction. They are rebels by nature and, if allowed to multiply, will eventually bring chaos and total destruction upon us. According to the files, our task was to purge the population of the Divergent. The Matthews would then completely reorganize the city so that it no longer encourages the production of mutants. The plan was titled 'Operation Convergence,' as convergence is the opposite of divergence."

"Between the Matthews and us," continued Iris, "we decided that Wyatt's mission was worthy of pursuing. Just as the files predicted, the Divergent began appearing more and more often starting around twenty years ago. We have been systematically eliminating them." She pulled out a three-page packet of paper filled with names. About two-thirds had red lines through them.

"Wait, when you say 'eliminate,' you don't mean…" Andrew stopped, unable to finish the terrible thought.

"We kill them," stated Leon simply. "Don't act so surprised. It's the only logical way to deal with such individuals. It would be impractical to keep them all locked up somewhere, and kicking them out to the factionless sector so they could breed would be even riskier."

Something is seriously wrong here. Andrew stared at his parents, feeling sick to the core. Since he was seven, he had been trying to convince himself that he had misheard his parents that day, that they weren't going around assembling lists of victims for extermination. Now, here they were, right in front of him, openly admitting to being murderers. "How…" he began in a choked voice. "How can you be sure these Divergent are bad?"

"Remember the factionless man who broke into Erudite headquarters and shot three people? He was a Divergent! They are anarchists!" said Iris vehemently.

"That's because the Erudite accidentally killed his brother when they were testing explosives!" Andrew protested. "He wasn't trying to destroy the city!"

"That's what they want you to think," replied Mr. Carr with a hint of annoyance in his voice. "Andrew, Jeanine, you must understand. Most of the people in this city are ignorant of the great danger that is creeping upon us. Certain members of Abnegation even encourage it. You need to be able to tell right from wrong, truth from lies. In the coming years, this will be your battle to take on."

"Why does the burden rest on us?" asked Andrew. "I'm sure if you just told some of the other Erudite about it—"

"That is out of the question," Leon cut in firmly. "Nobody would believe us. We would be jailed for inventing false information."

"Then why are you telling us at all?" Jeanine questioned. "What do you expect us to do if we can't tell anybody else?"

"That's where you come into the picture," said Iris, shifting so that she was directly facing the girl. "Jeanine, you and your siblings were born for a very specific purpose. Your parents programmed your genes, chromosome by chromosome, and then artificially constructed you in a laboratory growth tank to ensure that you would turn out exactly as they wanted."

The teens exchanged a look. The conversation they had overheard all those years ago was finally about to be explained. "So, I'm not technically their child?"

"You are. Your parents still designed you based on their own genetic template. But they also gave you extraordinary intellectual capabilities and a certain disregard for human emotion. They figured these traits would make it easier for you to become the leader of Erudite and begin altering the city in the way described by your grandfather's files," Mrs. Carr told the girl. "Your siblings Dave, Candice, Amy, and Abel were supposed to be the leaders of Dauntless, Candor, Amity, and Abnegation, respectively. Together, they would persuade their factions to follow your lead and ensure a smooth transition. Unfortunately, mutations caused your siblings to become deficient in various ways, as you may recall. In order to rectify the situation, Mr. and Mrs. Matthews attempted to create Abel using the more accurate but far riskier osmosis-fusion method. They died when the assembly machine overheated and exploded."

While Jeanine absorbed this shocking revelation, Andrew asked, "What about me and Perrier? Were we also preprogrammed?" He found the idea highly disturbing, to have a military mission written into one's DNA.

"No, we do not approve of such…radical meddling, especially when it comes to our own kin," said Leon. "The Carr family is not supposed to deal with governmental affairs, anyway. Our task is simply to keep the Divergent at bay."

Jeanine looked skeptical. "Why did my parents never tell me any of this?"

"You were only seven when they died," Leon reminded her. "We thought we'd tell you kids about this when you were older, say twelve or thirteen. But then there was that accident, and, well, Iris and I forgot how quickly time passed."

"If you don't believe us, these are the genetic blueprints your parents drafted," said Iris, handing Jeanine another stack of paper. "I assume you remember what their handwritings looked like?"

As a momentary silence descended on the room, Andrew examined his parents' faces carefully. They wore an expression he knew all too well: the anxious, stern gaze of observing a major experiment in process. They really believe this is their duty, he realized. But are they right? Are the Divergent really so evil it warrants their deaths? Next, he looked across at Jeanine. She was studying the sheets closely, nodding as though in approval. With a shudder, Andrew wondered, Am I the only one who thinks Operation Convergence might be a very bad idea?

Jeanine spoke, jerking him from his dark musings. "This all seems genuine. May I take a look at my grandfather's original files? Perhaps I may be able to decipher a bit more of it."

'Well, here's the problem," said Mr. Carr, rubbing his temples with a pained expression. "Your parents, for whatever reason, decided to keep all of Wyatt's files and equipment in their laboratory. I'm sorry to say that the explosion that took their lives also destroyed all of the data. What little backups we had are all right here." He gestured to the messy coffee table.

"We're telling you two about this now so that you can understand the mission your parents strove for," Mrs. Carr explained, breaking the eerie silence. "In one year you will be choosing your factions. Obviously, if you are to carry on your ancestors' plan, you will need to stay in Erudite. Abnegation will be your first target, as that faction seems particularly effective at turning out Divergent. Amity by its very definition shall remain separate from everything that happens in the city, and Candor and Dauntless you will have to bend to your will."

"Hang on," Andrew broke in, scrabbling at all rational thought he could grasp in the sea of confusion in his mind. "What…what about Perrier?"

Leon turned his head as if checking for intruders before continuing, "He'll be told of this too, when he's old enough to understand. By then Iris and I will be close to retirement, so where Operation Convergence goes from there will be up to the three of you."

This is surreal, thought Andrew, feeling his stomach clench unpleasantly. I'm sitting in the living room with my parents and my best friend, talking about the fate of the city as though it's a game. Worse still, Andrew didn't even need to ask to know that his parents weren't really offering him a choice. They never cared about me as an individual. They have devoted their lives to carrying out this 'Operation Convergence,' and they assume that I will continue in their footsteps simply because I'm their son. He wondered if his parents had even considered the possibility that he or Perrier might not agree with them. How can I know for sure if they're right or wrong?

June 17

"I cannot believe there's nothing on here about Wyatt Matthews except a date of death. Nothing!" Jeanine grimaced as she scrolled through page after page on her laptop, oblivious to the hundreds of chattering kids on the playground around her. "This has got to be some kind of statistical anomaly. The Erudite keep such meticulous records on everything, and the first time I actually need to search up something useful on their database, it isn't there!"

Andrew sighed. Though he and Jeanine had very differing opinions of Operation Convergence, the one thing they could agree on was that they were missing some very important pieces of the puzzle. Unfortunately, information was proving hard to come by.

"I thought my parents were holding something back yesterday," he said, thinking aloud. "But if there's nothing in the Erudite archives, I guess there really isn't anything more."

"From what I heard, it sounds like my grandfather was working for some kind of external organization," Jeanine mused.

Andrew looked up. Why didn't I think of that? "How on Earth do you keep coming up with these theories?"

"Well, think about it logically," replied the Erudite girl, examining a small chart on her laptop screen. "Where could Wyatt have gotten all that extinct technology from? Who formulated the plan with him? If not even his own wife knew about Convergence, I doubt he was collaborating with anyone in the city."

"Don't you think that makes the whole thing suspicious?" asked Andrew, jumping at the chance to defend his viewpoint.

Jeanine shook her head. "The fact that my grandfather could've had contacts outside the city makes his plan potentially a lot more complex, but I wouldn't say that it makes it suspicious. After all, the Divergent are a threat to the faction system. The question is, what kind of society did Wyatt Matthews want to create, and was it related to anything outside the fence?"

This is going nowhere. "Why can't we just leave the Divergent alone unless they make trouble?" questioned Andrew, exasperated. "And I don't know about you, but I think trying to get rid of Abnegation and taking over the government, no matter what the purpose, is wrong."

"Nonsense," Jeanine scoffed. "I actually speculated about doing the same thing long ago. Consider this: the odds of passing initiation are 48% for Dauntless, 53% for Erudite, 76% for Candor, 91% for Amity, and 100% for Abnegation! Statistically speaking, Abnegation has by far the easiest initiation; in fact, if you choose that faction, you are guaranteed to pass. You know what that means? They take all the leftovers, the people who aren't brave, smart, honest, or peaceful enough to survive in the other factions!"

Andrew fidgeted uncomfortably. "That's not true. There are wonderful people in Abnegation who genuinely want to be selfless."

"Of course there are," said Jeanine impatiently, calling up another chart on her computer, "but the thing you should be asking is, 'Of the fifty members of Abnegation that are selected to be councilmembers, how many are of the reasonably competent, subservient sort, and how many are the dregs of society?'"

"I think knowing that you were genetically engineered is getting to your head," Andrew replied.

Jeanine glared at him. "Now you're just being unreasonable! How many times have I told you that the Abnegation are complete ignoramuses?"

Andrew opened his mouth to argue back but realized that Jeanine was completely right. She had been complaining about the Abnegation since they were little. Her reasoning about them taking all the most incompetent people did make some sense, too. That was why Andrew had mostly given up arguing with Jeanine; she almost always won.

No matter what she says, though, there's still something wrong with Operation Convergence, thought Andrew stubbornly. As his companion returned to her data mining, he mulled the matter over in his head.

Are my parents really depraved serial killers, or are they just confused? How can they tell if somebody is Divergent? What, precisely, is outside the fence? Who was this mysterious Wyatt Matthews? Is Jeanine evil because she was programmed to take over the city? The thought that the person sitting across from him could someday become a merciless tyrant was so disturbing that he decided to push his speculations aside for the moment.

Instead, Andrew focused on the other children that dotted the large schoolyard. The Amity held hands in a giant ring around a distant oak tree. They sang cheerily as they skipped, the sound carrying clearly through the air. A few tables away, a group of Candor was engaged in a fierce three-way argument, while the Abnegation huddled in knots under the shade of the equipment building, conversing in low voices. The wild Dauntless were scattered throughout the playground. The younger ones chased each other on the grassy field, while the older ones climbed to the tops of the play structures and the sturdier trees.

Without meaning to, Andrew's eyes drifted to a black-clad figure doing cartwheels on the grass. She was a pretty, slender girl with wavy, golden-blonde hair and light green eyes. Though she was as agile as anyone in her faction, she didn't exude the same aura of violence. He had admired her from afar for a few months now, though he had yet to figure out her name. For a moment, Andrew imagined walking up to her and saying hello. Not that a Dauntless with any dignity would ever talk to an Erudite, he reflected, feeling somewhat depressed. Still, imagine if we somehow ended up in the same faction…

"ANDREW CARR!" The sharp pain of a book striking his arm jerked Andrew back to reality.

"Ow! What was that for?!" he yelped, turning to face a very irritated-looking Jeanine.

"Andrew, I've called you five times! Why the heck do you keep spacing out lately?!" she scolded.

"Um, I was thinking about Operation Convergence," Andrew lied sheepishly.

Jeanine sighed and turned the screen of her laptop to face him. "Look what I found."

A giant grid full of words met his gaze. "Wyatt Matthews—Personal Files: Restricted Access," Andrew read from the box next to the pointer.

"You know what that means, don't you?" The sunlight reflecting off Jeanine's glasses made her smile look sinister. "There's a copy of the data in the secret databank."

July 8

Natalie

"Happy sweet 16!" the group of Dauntless stood outside the door, exchanging good-byes and hugs with their host.

"G'bye! Thanks for the awesome b-day bash!" Natalie called, waving to Wilson, Liza, Vera, and Ethan as they filed out of her apartment. She noticed that more than one of them walked a little tipsily. Liza had brought over several bottles of wine, and while Natalie had taken only one sip before spitting it out in disgust, her friends had helped themselves to a generous three or four glasses each. Alcohol may be the staple Dauntless drink, but I can't stand that horrible taste.

She turned back to the living room and surveyed the huge mess awaiting her. How can four people make it look like a bomb went off in here? she wondered, her gaze skipping from the pizza boxes on the sofa to the confetti that sprinkled the floor like snow. Natalie checked the clock on the microwave: 11:47 PM. Her parents probably wouldn't be home for another few hours; her mother, as a Dauntless leader, used the less hectic night hours to check around the compound, while her father had the night shift patrolling the Candor sector of the city. She would've liked for her friends to stay a bit longer, but, unlike her, they had midnight as a curfew.

As quietness crept into the apartment, Natalie finally realized the full enormity of the milestone she had just passed. She was now sixteen years old. In just under a year, she would be choosing the faction she would be staying in for the rest of her life. What will I choose? Natalie looked around her apartment. Like the Pit outside, the walls were made of stone, though their lighter color didn't give the same sense of foreboding. The furniture was simple: a few chairs and tables, two sofas, and some usual appliances, all stocky and durable to withstand damage from spontaneous combat practice. With the light from the ceiling casting a soft yellow glow over everything, the apartment had the appearance of a cozy cave. It's hard to imagine going anywhere else.

Now that the party was over, Natalie realized just how tired she was. She tried to pick up all the litter and toss it into the trash bin, but before she knew it she had collapsed onto the couch and fallen asleep.

Three hours later, the Dauntless girl woke to the sound of the front door being unlocked. Her mother, Ruth, came in first, dropping her handgun, flashlight, pocketknife, and clipboard onto a special shelf by the door. She sat down tiredly at the kitchen table, running her hands idly through her long hair. "Hey, sweetie."

Ottis Prior came in next, unloading his own weapons onto the shelf. He frowned when he caught sight of the living room. "Nat, how many times have I told you you've got to clean up after yourself if you're gonna throw all-nighters here?"

"Aw, c'mon, Dad," Natalie protested mildly. "Can't you gimme a break? This is the last birthday I'll be having here, after all."

"You're transferring?" asked Mrs. Prior, looking at her daughter in mock surprise. "After all these years of showing you all the secret hideouts in the Pit, you're ditching us for another faction?"

"Yeah, I think I'm going to be a banjo-strumming softie in Amity!" said Natalie sarcastically. The three of them laughed. "Of course I'm staying Dauntless. It's just, I'll be getting a place of my own after initiation, so it'll never be the same, ya know?"

"Oh alright, I suppose I could let it slide just this once," Ottis relented as he cleaned out the barrel of his gun. "But if you ever throw any wild parties in your new home, don't forget to invite your folks, okay?"

"If it's still going at three in the morning, sure," Natalie answered, shrugging.

Ruth made a scoffing sound and walked over to the couch. "With that kind of gratitude, maybe I should give you your birthday gift next year," she teased.

Natalie knew the drill. Every year she begged for her present like a little kid, even though it seemed rather silly now. "Gimemememememmeemeeee!" she cried, jumping up and down in front of her mother.

But this year, instead of hurling the present into the air and shouting, "Catch!" Ruth waited silently until her daughter had calmed down. She then put her hands on Natalie's shoulders, looking directly into her eyes. What's going on?

"Now, Natalie, you will soon go through your Choosing Ceremony and then your initiation, at which point you will become an adult. As such, it's probably time I gave you the Prior family heirloom."

"Heirloom?" asked Natalie, surprised to see her mother looking so serious.

"It's tradition to give it to the oldest child in the family when he or she turns sixteen," Mr. Prior explained, shuffling closer to watch them.

Ruth Prior dropped her hands, reached into her pocket, and retrieved what looked like a silver key on a thin gold chain. "This is it. Nobody knows where this came from or what it opens. I know only one thing: you are the one who will figure out how to use it."

Natalie took the key and examined it critically. It was the same size and shape as a normal house key, except it was inscribed with one word on each side: "Prior" and "Ritter." On both sides, there was also some kind of symbol consisting of five concentric circles joined by eight line segments, like the spokes of a wheel. Random splotches covered the wheel, and two stalks of grain crossed below the whole thing.

"How do you know it's going to be me?" asked Natalie, feeling a curious sense of dread settle in her stomach. What the heck is this, anyway?

Ruth took hold of the chain of the key and showed her daughter a tiny gold rectangle attached to it. The words "For Generation 1" were etched into the panel. "Because," Ruth explained quietly, "everyone who inherits the key also inherits a number, which is one higher than their parent. My grandmother was -2. My father was -1. I am 0. Which means you, Natalie, are generation 1."

Natalie looked up at her mother, studying her face for hints that she might be lying. She found none. "I don't understand…" she mumbled, feeling her head ache from too many questions.

"Whoever started this system was very clever," said Ruth. "They didn't want their successor to ask too many questions, but they still needed a way to tell the right generation that the key was theirs to use. So they told their child the number, saying that they had inherited a lower number from their parent when they hadn't."

"So you mean, like, if you made up the key thing, then you're telling me your parent was -1 when there never actually was a -1."

"Correct," said Ruth, nodding. "Although I assure you I did in fact get this key from my father," she added hastily.

Natalie was silent for a moment, turning the key over and over in her hands. "I get why 'Prior' is stamped on here, but what the heck is 'Ritter'? And what is this circle thing? And how could anyone possibly predict the future?"

"Nobody knows," answered Mrs. Prior solemnly. "That information was lost generations ago. At any rate, never tell anybody outside the family about this key, understand? It has some sort of power that would be dangerous in the wrong hands."

Natalie shuddered under the weight of the burden that had just been passed to her. "How am I supposed to figure out how to use it if I know hardly anything about it?"

"That's for you to figure out, sweetie," smiled Ruth. "But a word of advice: generations of Priors have been going around the city, trying the key in every single lock they can find. My father claims that, between him and his mother, they tried every single non-dwelling keyhole in the city. So, I suggest you don't go poking around anymore. It isn't worth the risk."

The teenage girl nodded mutely, slipping the strange key around her neck and dropping it under her shirt. "So, I shouldn't worry too much about it?"

"Right," said Ruth, nodding approvingly. "Now go get some rest. Your father and I will clean up."

Sheronnale Trivia #3!

What is the design on Natalie's key? Hint: It's a logo used by a certain organization you've probably heard about. Winners get a cookie! (The answer WILL be revealed in the next chapter.)

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