A/N: Just so you know, because Jeanine invented the simulation serum, I am assuming the Aptitude Test was different when she was young.

June 14

The Aptitude Test

The one hundred or so sixteen-year-olds sat rigidly at their desks. For the first time since the beginning of preschool, the Amity had no desire to turn around and chat with their friends. The Abnegation didn't glance idly up at the clock, the Erudite desisted from pulling out books to pass the time, the Candor failed to start any arguments, and none of the Dauntless even thought about throwing a single spitball. Every student waited anxiously to find out how the Aptitude Test was to be administered.

At long last, an elderly Erudite woman marched up to the podium at the front of the huge hall. "You are here today to take the Aptitude Test," she began as Abnegation volunteers passed out packets of paper to each child. "This diagnostic will tell you which of the five factions you are most suited for. The results are not binding; you are still free to choose any faction you wish to tomorrow during the Choosing Ceremony. However, it is my duty to remind you that those who go to the faction recommended by their test results have a statistically higher chance of passing initiation. The Aptitude Test consists of 120 multiple-choice questions about your personality which you will have three hours to answer. The letters of each of the responses, A, B, C, D, and E correspond to specific factions. At the end of the test, you will add up the number of responses that fit with each of the five factions. Whichever faction has the highest number is the one you are most suited for.

"If the top scores are within 10 of each other," said the woman, her voice slipping from mechanical to slightly apprehensive, "you are Divergent. This means you are equally suited for those factions. On the other hand, if each of your numbers is below 35, your personality is not congruous to that of Abnegation, Amity, Candor, Dauntless, or Erudite, so you will most likely become factionless."

A murmur swept through the crowd at these words. So this is the famed Aptitude Test? It's nothing more than an old-fashioned standardized test!

"Please begin."

1. What do you think about the current government?

a) It's wonderful.

b) I don't know much about it.

c) It is way too lenient towards criminals.

d) One word: LAME.

e) The whole system is corrupt and illogical.

2. What would you do if someone wanted to borrow money from you?

a) Lend it to them immediately, no questions asked.

b) Lend it to them if they're a good friend.

etc…

Johanna

Why are these questions so hard to answer? It's like the options are playing tug-of-war inside me.

Johanna agonized over each of the 120 questions in the test booklet. She was sure that answer choices that fit her would jump out immediately, but that rarely happened. At long last, Johanna reached the end and began adding up the numbers. Even now, less than twenty-four hours before she would be deciding the rest of her life, Johanna was still woefully undecided between Amity and Candor. All the time she had spent marketing Amity to Marcus and Evelyn was, in part, an effort to convince herself to leave her home faction.

What in the world will I do? I guess I'll go wherever this Aptitude Test tells me, Johanna decided.

Abnegation: 25. Amity: 45. Candor: 33. Dauntless: 13. Erudite: 4.

She sighed. Amity was the faction most suited for her, which was encouraging, but Candor wasn't far behind. The gap was just slightly too large to make her Divergent. I could easily survive in Candor if I willed myself to, Johanna realized. I can't really say that I'm incapable of being honest. Yet I've always been drawn to the peaceful orchards of Amity. Is it worth leaving my family for?

Marcus

Marcus barely bothered to add up his test results. He already knew what they would be. He wished it weren't so, but genetics had long ago sealed his fate.

Sure enough, the numbers confirmed what Marcus's parents had suspected of him ever since Richard died.

Abnegation: 36. Amity: 22. Candor: 0. Dauntless: 19. Erudite: 43.

He was an Abnegation-Erudite Divergent. Darn it all. I'm in danger too. Warily, Marcus went back and swapped all his Erudite responses for Abnegation ones. They are NOT going to catch me like they caught my brother.

Evelyn

Evelyn worked her way slowly through the test, feeling her headache worsen with each question. None of the responses seemed to fit her, and even when she tried to choose the one that sounded best, the penciled circles on her answer sheet still fluctuated wildly between the five letter choices. By the time she was through, Evelyn felt like beating her head on the table in frustration. Who knew a simple Aptitude Test could be so trying?

Abnegation: 32. Amity: 26. Candor: 23. Dauntless: 22. Erudite: 17.

Evelyn stared down at the numbers, not knowing what to think. Not one of the factions stood out—all the numbers were below 35. She wasn't Erudite, Amity, or Abnegation, nor was she even Divergent. She was simply factionless.

That explains a lot, thought Evelyn bitterly. I really don't belong anywhere, just like the other kids said. No wonder everyone ostracizes me. I am destined to end up digging through the dumps. Why, oh why does it have to be me?

Theoretically, the results should've made Evelyn's decision far easier, for neither Abnegation nor Amity was suited for her. In reality, though, it made the choice much harder—to be true to her nature, she needed to abandon the factions. And even the most retarded Dauntless knew that was a bad idea.

Tori

Tori whizzed through the test, answering every question by instinct. She had never liked exams, and this one was no exception. Within half an hour, she was done.

What am I hoping for? Tori questioned herself as she added up her responses. Do I want it to say Dauntless so I have a reasonable excuse to leave here? Or Erudite, because it means I'm not dumb after all?

When she had finally gotten all the math down, it took Tori a moment to register what the numbers meant.

Abnegation: 4. Amity: 23. Candor: 9. Dauntless: 47. Erudite: 37.

What the heck? Tori had always known she was neither selfless nor honest, so there was no surprise there. And though she wasn't particularly friendly, she liked to draw, so the Amity score made sense. But since when did I have so much Erudite in me? Tori wondered. She forced herself to check her arithmetic again. The results still stood. Her Dauntless and Erudite scores were exactly 10 points apart. I am weakly Divergent.

Furiously, Tori went back over her answers and changed all the Erudite responses to Dauntless. I wasn't born with any Erudite in me, she thought stubbornly. My mother must've gotten to my mind somehow. I need to get away from her before I'm completely converted!

Jeanine

"What a stupid test," Jeanine muttered to herself as she bubbled in her responses. "Half of these questions are about hypothetical situations one could never imagine accurately, and the other half ask about daily habits nobody keeps track of!" How should I know what I'd do if I were attacked by a giant dog, or how many times a day I check my cell phone? And who came up with these idiotically simplistic answer choices?

This thing isn't accurate at all! she decided. Somebody seriously needs to invent a more realistic Aptitude Test.

Despite this, Jeanine answered as honestly as she could, curious to see just how purely Erudite her parents had made her. The results were stunning:

Abnegation: 0. Amity: 0. Candor: 0. Dauntless: 0. Erudite: 120.

Clearly, my parents knew what they were doing, thought the Erudite girl in satisfaction. I am bound by logic alone and nothing else. Perhaps this test isn't so stupid after all.

Andrew

The Aptitude Test greatly intrigued Andrew. He could tell immediately which responses corresponded to which factions, and because of this he gained much insight from reading through them. I didn't know the Abnegation would die to save total strangers, or that the Candor mustn't lie even if telling the truth will get them killed. That sounds a little extreme. He hoped he wasn't as Erudite as he'd always assumed, so that the transfer process wouldn't be quite so painful.

Subconsciously, Andrew found himself hoping for a Dauntless aptitude. That's stupid, he reprimanded himself. Just because you have a friend who's going there doesn't mean you're suited to that place. Above all, however, Andrew feared that he would turn out to be Divergent. Would my parents murder their own son for being Divergent? He shuddered. A few months ago, Andrew would've dismissed the thought as preposterous. Now, though, he wasn't quite so sure. With a pounding heart, he began adding up the results…

Abnegation: 26. Amity: 15. Candor: 11. Dauntless: 13. Erudite: 55.

He felt his heart sink. Well, out goes the idea of transferring to Dauntless with Natalie. At least I'm not Divergent, thank goodness.

His initial relief, however, was quickly replaced by worry. According to the scores, I'm supposed to stay in Erudite, not go to Abnegation! I wouldn't be very happy there if I only scored in the mid-twenties!

But you can do more good in Abnegation than you can here, another voice in Andrew's head reminded him. After all, you've learned all you can from the Erudite databases; there isn't much more to know. On the other hand, if you become a councilmember, you could keep Erudite's power in check and help the city embrace the Prior files when it's finally time.

Natalie

Natalie worked through the questionnaire carefully, feeling a strange sense of conflict in her as she answered the questions. She had expected the Dauntless answers to jump out at her, but she often found them strangely disturbing. One question in particular bothered her:

If a starving factionless child tried to steal your food, what would you do?

a) Give your food to the child and take him to the nearest factionless help center.

b) Give the child a bit of your food and try to find out why he hasn't been able to find food for so long.

c) Hold your food out of reach and reprimand him harshly.

d) Punch the child and threaten to stab him if he tries to mug you again.

e) Run away and call the police.

Clearly, the Dauntless response was meant to be D. All Dauntless carried weapons exclusively to deal with the factionless, and Natalie was no exception. However, the fourth response was simply far too cruel. Had the word "child" been replaced with "huge, angry-looking man" it would be a different story, but as it was, Natalie couldn't imagine ever pointing a knife at a small child. After much agonizing, she chose A…

Two hours later, Natalie stared down at the results of her Aptitude Test. "No, no, no…" she whispered in horror, feeling prickles of cold sweat running down her back. "I can't be…"

But the numbers stared back at her, cold, hard, unchanging. Though Natalie had never been any good at schoolwork, she knew she had made no mistake in her addition this time.

Abnegation: 48. Amity: 10. Candor: 4. Dauntless: 51. Erudite: 7.

Natalie Prior was Divergent. Looking back, she knew she should've seen this coming. What had Andrew told her all those months ago? Our generation has been marked as 'Generation 1,' because we are supposed to be the first generation to have a significant proportion of Divergent.

Natalie was the descendant of Edith Prior, a woman chosen to live in the factions for her flexible mind. She had inherited a key that was somehow tied to the Divergent emerging. Of course I'm Divergent. It's in my genes.

Natalie immediately remembered the danger this put her in. Unlike the other children sitting around her, she knew perfectly well that Divergence meant more than just being able to live in different factions. It was the ability to think outside the box, to resist being controlled. If people such as Jeanine were prepared to murder her for just knowing about this, what would happen to her if they found out she was one? Quickly, Natalie went back over her test and began erasing all the Abnegation responses.

Afterwards

Evelyn

"So, Evelyn, what were your test results?" Viktor Johnson asked his daughter gruffly as he struggled to open a can of soup. "And I don't want to hear any nonsense about it being a secret."

Evelyn gazed at the orange sunset slanting into the kitchen. My poor father. I really need to get out of Erudite, but how will he manage without me? He's depressed enough as it is. "I'm not Erudite, Dad," she admitted softly. "I'm sorry."

Mr. Johnson put down the can opener. "You have nothing to apologize for," he said distantly. "I knew a long time ago you weren't meant to be here. You're…you're just like I was. Not stupid, but hopeless with books."

Something's different about him, thought Evelyn as she studied her father's face. It took her a moment to realize that the ever-present stench of alcohol about him was absent tonight. Now's as good a time to tell the truth as any. "Well, the test said, um, I'm probably going to become factionless. Z-Zachary suggested I might as well defect now and join him out there, and to take you with us if you want to come. He figures I'll get kicked out if I choose a faction, anyways." She waited for his response.

"No, Evie, you must never do that." The heavy sadness on Mr. Johnson's face made his statement seem more like a plea than a command. "Don't do that to your poor mother."

The girl's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

Mr. Johnson started to answer, but apparently thought better of it. "Never mind."

"What was that about Mom?" Evelyn persisted.

"It's a long, sad story…" Viktor sighed, sank onto the couch, and put his forehead in his hands. "There…there's some history I've been keeping from you, Evelyn. I thought you were better off not knowing, but now, it hardly matters…I was born Abnegation. My mother's job was to distribute supplies to the factionless children, and I'd often go with her on these trips. One of the children I met was your mother, Crystal."

Evelyn felt like she'd just been punched in the face. "You told me you were both Erudite."

"Please, dearie, just hear me out. You can be mad all you want later." Viktor wiped the corners of his eyes. "C-Crystal and I became friends immediately. I pitied her sad condition, and we spent hours trying to figure out ways of getting her into Abnegation. How futile it all was. The year I was sixteen, the Abnegation gave blood tests to all the factionless, saying they were looking for some kind of 'genetic anomaly.' Don't ask me about it. All I know is that it showed Crystal had some kind of slow-acting but fatal disease. She had always been thin and frail, but suddenly she had less than ten years to live." Viktor stopped and sobbed into his hands. "I-I transferred to Erudite, th-th-thinking I could find a cure to save her. Stupid me. I never even made it through initiation. Th-they gave me a choice: to stay and cle-clean up laboratories for the rest of my life, or become factionless. I w-would have gladly left, but I-I needed money to buy medicine for C-Cr-Crystal, so I was f-forced to stay h-here, d-d-doing all-all of the dirty work while the Erudite j-je-je-jeered at me…"

At long last, Evelyn understood the reason for her father's chronic depression. So what if you have to work as a janitor? she had thought for so many years. You don't have to drink all day long and yell about how worthless you are. Now, she saw that his feelings of failure were valid.

"Y-your mother had you when she was t-twenty four. Sh-she was f-f-fading fast by then, a-and she t-t-told me t-to keep my j-job no matter what, to make sure you had a better l-life than she did. You were only a year old when sh-sh-she d-died…"

Evelyn watched her father cry with increasing apprehension. Her resolve to abandon the factions, shaky to begin with, almost completely dissolved in light of this new information. "Dad, why did you keep this from me all these years?" She wasn't particularly angry, exactly, just baffled. Why did he have to lie and say mother got hit by a bus?

Mr. Johnson took a few deep breaths and composed himself somewhat. "I wanted you t-to fit into the faction system as much as possible, hoping you could belong to them in a way n-neither your mother nor I ever could. I thought that knowing you had factionless blood would encourage you to turn factionless, when it was the last thing your mother wanted. Now I see it wouldn't have made a difference. I'm so sorry."

"That's alright," said Evelyn half-truthfully, bending down to give her father a comforting hug. "But the thing is, Zachary's told me all sorts of things about factionless life, and apparently the bad stuff the factions say about them is mostly propaganda. Is that true?"

"Living as a factionless person is the worst fate imaginable," said Viktor vehemently. "It is to be without identity or society, helpless, alone, forever looked down upon and despised. Your mother died because of this. Don't make the same mistake."

That's only true because the factionless are scattered around the city, Evelyn reflected. If they were gathered together, I bet there are enough of them to form a decent community… Looking at her distraught father, however, she knew there was no reasoning with him. Instead, she asked, "Then should I go to Abnegation or Amity? I scored higher in Abnegation, but I don't know if it's the place for me."

Mr. Johnson stroked his daughter's hair. "I don't know, Evelyn. Abnegation for me always seemed so dull and lifeless. If you go to Amity, however, I'm not sure if you could deal with the endless chatter. I suppose you'll just have to ask yourself which you can endure longer. Either way, I'll still love you."

Evelyn sighed. Great. You just made the situation a whole lot more complicated.

Tori

"…and you'll have to be sure to be sure to select a good research topic for initiation. Your future job depends a lot on this, you know."

Tori rolled her eyes as her mother prattled on and on about Erudite initiation. "Mom!" she interrupted. "I'm not staying in Erudite, no matter how much you want me to! It's so boring here! Dauntless is the life for me!"

"Hear, hear!" laughed George, pumping his fist in the air.

Mrs. Wu glared daggers at her eldest child. "Tori Wu! Stop this nonsense at once! The Erudite are the only ones with any future! They have all the knowledge and the technology. What do the Dauntless have? Knives and guns. All they do is fight, even if there's no war. No child of mine is going there!"

Knowing Mrs. Wu would lose all sanity if she kept pressing the point, Tori decided to drop the subject. Instead, she exchanged goofy grins with her brother as their mother resumed ranting about the wonderful jobs her daughter could choose after Erudite initiation was over. I know she means well, thought Tori wearily, but Mother doesn't understand me at all. By and by, Naomi drifted upstairs to take a nap, leaving the siblings in peace.

"I can't wait to be out of here," groaned Tori. "Mom's driving me crazy."

"She'll be really angry if you go," George remarked.

"So?" she snorted. "I mean, of course I feel bad for leaving and all, but I can't be stuck in Erudite for the rest of my life!"

"But the thing is," began George, "what if Mom takes the anger out on me? With Dad dead and you in Dauntless, I'll be all alone."

Uh oh. I totally forgot about that. "Um…well, Mom's not a bad person, just a tad…temperamental. So avoid her when her migraines get too bad, and you should be fine. I'll come visit you as often as I can, 'kay?" Her brother didn't look the least bit reassured. Tori racked her brain for something comforting to say. "Look, Georgie, you want to follow me to Dauntless eventually, right? Think of this as a test of courage, to see how well you can resist Mom's evil brainwashing!" She said the last two words in a mock-scary voice.

George laughed half-heartedly. "I suppose so…"

Andrew

Perrier Carr lay sound asleep on the bed. Out of everyone in my faction, he's the only person I'll actually miss, Andrew realized as he watched him from his desk. It's the books and technology of Erudite I like, not the people.

What lay in store for Perrier in the coming years? Tomorrow, when Andrew abandoned Erudite, his parents were sure to be extremely upset. Knowing them, they'll do everything in their power to prevent their remaining son from doing the same thing.

As usual, the five-year chasm that separated the two brothers made things more complicated than they should've been. Not only did this give Leon and Iris plenty of time to brainwash Perrier, it also meant that nothing Andrew said to him now would make much sense. He's bright for his age, but he's still only eleven. And no eleven-year-old in the world is going to believe that his parents are killers or that a random Erudite girl is going to destroy the world.

So there Andrew sat, pounding away on his laptop. At around nine o'clock, he finally finished compiling the 500 kilobyte word document that summarized everything he knew about Operation Convergence and the Prior files, along with his reasons for leaving. Andrew copied the file and sent one to his brother's computer, adding a time lock code to it so that it wouldn't be visible until Perrier turned fifteen. Knowing his parents, Andrew guessed they would cut off all communication between the brothers starting tomorrow, including e-mail. With luck, Perrier would read his hidden message and also escape when the time came. One could only hope.

Andrew saved the original file to his laptop and looked around his room, trying to estimate the number of things he could safely smuggle to Abnegation. Despite everything he had been telling himself for the past month, Andrew knew he would sorely miss all of the high-tech Erudite gadgets. I guess I could still sneak off to the public library sometimes…

Andrew's train of thought was interrupted by the ring of his cell phone. Looking on the display, he saw that it was Natalie Prior. Why is she calling at this hour? "Hello?"

"Andrew. Please, I need your advice." Natalie sounded like she'd been crying.

"What's wrong?" Andrew gasped.

There was a slight pause. "Is—Is the line bugged? Nobody must hear this."

Slightly panicked now, Andrew answered, "No, this is a private line. My parents are out somewhere, and my phone has the latest anti-detection software."

"Okay, then. The Aptitude Test today…I'm Divergent. Between Dauntless and Abnegation."

He almost dropped the phone in shock. Natalie, a Divergent? But she's so…so…normal. "You didn't leave your answers like that, did you?" He waited on tenterhooks as the other end of the line went silent. My parents found so many Divergent through the Aptitude Test. Please, don't let Natalie be the next one.

"No, of course not," said the Dauntless girl quickly. "That's not the problem. My…m-my parents said I've got to leave Dauntless tomorrow. They said it's too dangerous for me to stay."

Andrew winced. Did I hear her right? "Hang on, what does your being Divergent have to do with anything?"

"According to Mom, Dauntless initiation's full of split-second decisions. The Divergent are such weirdos you can spot them immediately," Natalie explained sadly. "She's got a point, but…what am I going to do? Dauntless is who I am!"

Andrew felt wretched all of a sudden. Mom and Dad are the reason Natalie's got to flee her home faction, he told himself. They routinely track down innocent people like her and murder them. And there's absolutely nothing I can do about it. "Well, you should probably listen to her and transfer, then. Listen, I'm so sorry my parents have gotten you into this mess. I've tried reasoning with them so many times, but they just won't listen. I—"

"You've done your part by warning me," Natalie cut in. "Don't get into another fight with these people. They're complete morons. Anyways…I guess I'll probably be joining you in Abnegation. My Aptitude Test says I could fit in there, and I can't go to Amity or Candor for the same reasons as you."

In spite of himself, Andrew found himself smiling. "So, the two fugitives on the run from Erudite decide to camouflage themselves as Stiffs?"

The Dauntless girl laughed. "We probably shouldn't call them that anymore, seeing as we're about to join them."

"Right," Andrew agreed. "It'll be okay, Natalie. I don't want to leave Erudite either. We can help each other through."

"Thanks a million, you just made me feel so much better!" Natalie paused as somebody on her end said something indistinguishable. "Well, I gotta get packing now. I love you!" The line clicked dead.

Andrew sat rooted to the spot in shock. Perhaps some good will come out of this calamity after all.

Next up: the Choosing Ceremony!

I'm planning to do a short FAQ section when I finally reach the last chapter. If you have any questions about my story, please start PM'ing me! (You can ask why I made a character say or do this, where I got the idea for that, etc. I'm doing this because it drives me crazy when I can't question real authors about their books.)

Read & review!