Author's note: So this is a really, really long awaited chapter since the last time I updated was in January 2013 so I am really sorry.

Hopefully with this new wave of brain storming I am able to carry this on and thanks to everyone you continued to review and alert my story during my absence.

I didn't give up either, not in so many words, I just had continued writers block along with a prolonged spinal injury, personal stuff and exams.

Anyway, hope you enjoy this! My writing style has definitely matured since I first started with 'Known Another Way' so many of you may favour this more adventurous and descriptive chapter over the others, which is okay :) I'm glad I have developed

Also, this is the longest chapter yet! I obviously did that on purpose to say sorry ;)

Disclaimer: Yo I don't own any of this

Today we are fighting each other and I am not sure how to prepare myself because I do not know either Eric or Four's strategy. They could put weak with weak and see how they fight against someone with the same ability as them, vice versa with the stronger initiates, or they could mix it up a little and put both opposites together. This means that I could be facing Peter, which is not a good thing. My ability, using that term loosely, is not match for his. So, in conclusion, I cannot prepare myself. I will have to think on my feet, just like Four has been telling us to do – even if it is indirectly. I'll have to size my opponent up and act upon instinct, which is something I find myself becoming increasingly good at.

"Listen up, initiates!" I hear Eric roar once Christina and I are inside the training room. "Today you will all be fighting each other," he smirks at the crowd of us, "don't expect to walk away without any injuries – especially you, Stiff" he turns to stare me down, as well as everyone else. Now they've got to know Eric and I are not on good terms. I wonder if his threat is empty, or if he has something planned for my well-being.

Who am I fighting again?

I cannot see the board because Four is standing right in front of it; his arms are folded against his muscular chest and his back is against the board where the line-up will be written. His expression is neutral but his jaw is set, the hard line jumping in tension as if he is anticipating something to happen during our first exercise. I have only been here three days and I already know a lot about my other initiates, but not Four – never Four.

Whoever my opponent, it can't be good. Eric wouldn't say something like that without meaning it. A shiver runs through my spine.

"This is a test of your strength and ability. You have had no time to prepare; it is all about on-the-spot thinking. If you were really in a fight, would you have time to prepare then?" Eric looks around at us with a hard expression across his face, as if questioning us to contradict him. "Exactly," he says, taking our silence as the answer.

"Now, there is an odd number of you, so we," Four stares at him with more hatred than usual, making Eric clear his throat, "well I did some rearranging to make ends meet".

He steps away from the board, leaving the view clear as crystal, and what I see makes my knees go weak.

Christina is against Molly, Al is against Peter, and I'm against... Eric.

I can feel the room enclose on me, my feet lose balance. I'm not surprised; this is most definitely something he would do. After his time left in Abnegation he left me a promise, one I never believed because I always thought he was either dead or in Erudite, but a promise none the less:

It was a rainy day and I had just come back from buying new slacks at the market with Mother. Tomorrow was Eric's Choosing Ceremony, so as an Abnegation tradition each family would sit down and eat one last meal together before their children would make their choices. I was in my room putting the new fabrics away when I heard the door creek open. I swung my head around only to be greeted by my eldest brother, of who was an overall unwanted presence.

Eric had a habit of entering my room without permission, even as an Abnegation-born there was something missing in him, like his brain had not formed properly; his incapability of sustaining normal emotions was scary to say the least – we had learned in Biology that even animals feel pain.

A wrinkly hand slams down onto my dresser, pulling me out of my thoughts.

"Beatrice," he starts, looking my up and down with those cold, empty eyes, "you may think you're free now, that I will be leaving, but I promise that you are not free. I will always be there, haunting you, scaring you. You won't be scared of the dark; you'll be scared of what's in it. I'm in it." I stare at him, shocked, scared, about to cry. I don't know what to say, I don't know how to comprehend it. Without being aware of it my feet are moving my body backward, in instinct to safety, but my back hits the wall behind me. I am trapped.

"Don't think you'll ever be rid of me, because I will find you one day" he turns but stops short, coming back around slightly, "or maybe you'll find me," he winks at me, those hollow and cold eyes projecting something inhuman, something evil, as if he knows something about the future me that I am not even aware of yet, it could be paranoia but his attitude puts me on edge.

Eric moves away from me slowly, but those cold eyes stay on me. I gulp; finding it harder to inhale the oxygen around me. Like the air has been sucked out of my room and my body is fighting to grab the only remaining atoms, only Eric gets there first. I feel my body become suddenly too heavy for myself to bare, I'm falling but I have no idea why.

Thump... then darkness; lots of darkness.

"Tris," Christina hisses to get my attention, thumping my side with the back of her left arm. I'm not sure how long I was out of it for, but everyone is still staring at me. I feel like I did the day Tori told me I was Divergent. I know it is not branded on my forehead but by the way people are looking at me it might as well be.

"Peter and Al," Four says, getting the attention back to him and away from me, "You two are first."

Once they are inside the "fighting ring", really it is just a circle drawn in red along the floor, nothing really happens. Both Peter and Al start to circle each other like vultures, always cowardly birds, lazily waiting for their prey to fall to their death rather than provoking it themselves, insults are thrown back and forth.

"Come on then, Lanky!" Peter starts, moving his body closer to Al in a threatening manner, "show us how tough you really are," Al moves closer, broadening his shoulders and bringing his fists up to his face. He swings, aiming for peter's nose, but he ducks and punches Al in the stomach making him keel over.

Now he is down, Peter has more of an opportunity to beat Al up, so as to glorify the movement; he looks back over to Molly and Drew evidently making it clear. His efforts are wasted though because with all his dilly-dallying about, Al finds the courage to recover from his injury and take a swing back at Peter, tripping his legs up and kicking him twice as hard in the stomach back once he hit the floor – ouch. Concentrating on Al's face, something has changed since the fight started. Fury is etched into his expression as the blood gradually drips from a gash on his forehead from the encounter with the floor. Over in the corner, Eric's eyes narrow, looking as though his patience for the day with the new initiates has finally worn thin.

"C'mon now ladies, we don't have all day" he bellows over their insults, something that many of us know is just to stall their inevitable fight. If neither boy at least attempts to fight, or in Eric's book, attempts to bring huge pain amongst the other, their scores for round one will threaten against Dauntless life or a Factionless fate. Everything said or done now will be taken literally, practised like the Bible and revised like their lives depend on it – but for the latter, it did.

During the temporary break from the fight, Al had been too busy listening to Eric's words than to pay attention to where his priorities were supposed to lay, and that is how Peter was able to up his game.

A punch to the face sends him off balance, stumbling over his feet where he eventually hunches over on the ground. Any fight tactics they previously acquired were now abandoned, making him completely exposed to the battle field and now, to Peter, every target is open.

He draws his foot back and to me it all seems to play in slow motion: Peter continues to target Al's body, aiming for his ribs, legs, throat and head as the man in question stays keeled over in pain, falling without support or defence. He is now completely submissive to Peter, who has noticed this perfectly timed accident with a smug grin broke across his face. The prey is open to its hierarchy of whom continues his overkill as Al seems to be blacking out of consciousness. To my disgust it seemd as though Eric was enjoying the little display in front of him for his own sadistic pleasure. He gets a kick out of causing pain, doesn't he? I think to myself as involuntary flashbacks try to force their way to my frontal lobe; unfortunately I am able to catch a few glimpses of the memories before screwing my eyes up in a fight to keep them at bay.

Only, Christina notices my actions, "What are you going?" She asks with a curious tone. I shake my head, concentrating once again on the display playing out in front of us.

Dauntless Initiation was always going to be brutal, that is self explanatory, but one thing I did not count on is the triggers I would feel watching our training.

"I just can't watch," I whisper back, snatching another glimpse towards the arena before snapping back to stare wide-eyed at Christina. For not the first time, I ponder on how different I am to a Condor. I wonder what it must be like to be honest all the time, even about things that are too deep and personal to even comprehend yourself. It was never a faction of choice for me, lying was too easy. A second nature of sorts, and from recent encounters, I am grateful.

A groan sounds in the arena which pulls me out of my thoughts again. It looks as though Al is winded and this time it is too much for him to rebound; causing him to not only lose the fight but also any respect Eric might have held for the new initiate.

"Stop," Al grunts before the slumps into a bundle on the floor but Peter does not let up, causing him to sound louder so that our leaders will hear him.

"Stop, I'm done. I'm done," he says again, this time exasperation seeping though his voice as the bruises now begin to form all over his body; the blood still seeping crimson down his forehead.

Eric looks onto the display with fury; his stance locks, his fists clenching and unclenching as if he is going to go over and finish Al off for Peter himself. A knot forms in my stomach as I realise what Eric must be thinking. Al did not seem like such a bad person and for a fraction of a second I really did think he was going to fight back, Peter's insults affecting him so much that the loss of self control would move in favour for him. It is a pity, I think. Realistically, Al will have to do so much better to prevent becoming Factionless and it dawns on me that he has now formed enemies of a much greater extent than any of the other initiates, giving them more reason to eliminate the weaker completion. This is now the real world for us and soon Al may not live to exist in it.

Eric strides forward, extending his hand to grab the beginnings of his shirt, pulling him up to a standing position. It would almost look graceful if the circumstances were not of such dire consequences. Al is unable to move from his bundle on the ground never mind have the strength to hold his body weight but Eric does not much care, Al tumbling over as if intoxicated with the force.

Eric reviews the damage before turning back to Four, motioning for him to join him.

"Take this useless lump, Dauntless not-to-be, to the Hospital Wing before he hurts himself falling over. Peter wins this round," he confirms, nodding to Peter before walking back to the leader board and scratching the new win beside his name.

Four does not as much as acknowledge Eric, instead he brushes past him forcefully before grabbing Al's arm and pulling it around his shoulder, dragging him off to the emergency room.

No one else in the room speaks, most of the nosier initiates having been too engrossed in the consequences of Al's actions to bother making conversation. Al's actions are now things we can notably avoid and as I mentally jot them down I feel sick; what has cost him has saved the rest of us; saved me. It would be foolish to not act as a Dauntless is expected to if this is the Faction we have chosen willingly, only something at the back of my brain nags at me – was Eric acting like a true Dauntless?

"Right," he roars again, clapping his hands together to signal our attention as his voice booms around the room. "That is a prime example of how a Dauntless should not act. If anyone is to act as useless and as weak as your initiate member here, they will be held over the Chasm accordingly. It is in your best interest to complete the courses we assign you. Understand?" he asks the crowd of us, but I know it is rhetorical. I also know that most of us will conform to these rules as much as we can, none of us want to die before really getting to live.

"Now, Christina and Molly are up next,"

No one moves.

"Now!" he demands off them, causing both bodies to jump before making their way toward the arena to face each other.

I know I should be watching Christina's fight, we only just became friends but I already feel a duty of care towards her. I have not had much social experience before and more often than not I feel emotionally awkward in situations that require communication. It was not really something that had been such a problem back in Abnegation because you were not seen as a talkative person. If I was ever addressed to personally or out with Mother on a charity day then I would need to work in a social environment but since I was under sixteen she did most of the talking for me.

I cannot seem to give her fight all my concentration though and I am not entirely sure why. There is a nagging feeling in my stomach and the absence of Four seems to be fuelling it. Why am I worried? He does not affect me in any way, we are not friends and I have no emotional connection with him. But with recent events, the chance of reoccurrence is high and with no Four, who seems to be the lesser of two evils, the initiates do not have much chance seeing a medic unless they demand it personally. Speaking from personal experience, standing up to Eric is not in anyone's best interest, especially since we are under him on the status scale. He has authority over any of us, all given leaders do, but Eric is ruthless and emotionless. He would not hesitate to inflict serious harm on any of us, damning the consequences if there were any. I can imagine with his new found power comes new found perks too – number one on the list is getting away with offences. Without Four, the environment just became increasingly more dangerous.

I zone back into reality in just enough time to find both Christina and Molly injured; the former sporting splotchy cuts and bruises up the surface epidermis of her arm whilst Molly's nose is bleeding heavily, covering the wound in glistening crimson blood.

I imagine Eric will order them to clean that up later.

The fight lasts a while longer with both girls giving just as much as they get. I do not feel surprised that Christina majors a great skill with combat since there must be a lot of disagreements in Candor if everyone is always honest with each other. Being born and bred that way may soften the blow of criticism but from experience, Candor's like to inject their opinions in unwanted situations. Christina must have been involved with fights since she was able to talk – literally.

But Molly is involved with Peter's crowd and he is just as powerful in combat. Christina is good but Molly is better and she has a few dozen stone to back her up. The weight may make molly slower in more physical exercises, like running or climbing, but it is a huge advantage with one to one conflict. If Christina just as much as stumbles, the other is able push and shove her around the circle before eventually locking her in place, keeping her steady on the ground before knocking her lights out.

Even without realising it, I am sweating relentlessly; nervous, nauseous for what will happen to Christina, for what will happen to me.

What will happen to me? Surely putting an initiate against a Dauntless leader is against the rules? Even with how ruthless and callous they are, that sort of matching has to be in the hand book for things not to do? Even as I think up the list of things it must be against, I know it is useless. He is a leader here, this is his turf and he has unwanted authority over me. I am just silly little Beatrice Prior from Abnegation, the stiff who transferred over without really knowing what she was doing. But that is a lie. I know exactly why I came here – to get away from Eric. Only he is here too.

"Get up, get up!" I hear Eric shout, pulling me from my thoughts once again. I have never been so bad at paying attention in the past two years and this time I regret it almost instantly as Christina is laying on the floor, a bloody, battered lump, unseemly holding any trait correlating to that of a proper functioning human.

"Christina?" I say, tentatively at first but as feeling rushes back to me, so does the severity of the situation.

"Christina!" I shout; stepping closer to the outer circle of the ring before Eric puts his hand up, stopping me from moving any closer.

"Don't you dare move, stiff, or you will be following her over the Chasm" he smirks at me, pulling Christina's arm up, forcing her to follow his movements letting out a groan as she does so.

I stand frozen in the vaguely occupied spot I have taken before moving. He is really going to put her over there? The chasm, where the chances of survival are minimal? Is he really going to commit murder on the Dauntless compound, where it is easy to track him for it?

If he is, then something is seriously wrong with our system. If he is willing to let his omission over Christina fall along with her lifeless body, then the corruption building within these walls must be so great that this is happening. If he is willing to kill Christina, then he is willing to kill me too. Not just because I am his sister but because I am Divergent.

An unknown force pulls at my arm, dragging me away from my previous spot and out into the main pit. My clouded vision clears up and upon it I notice that it was Will who had brought me out of my temporary trance.

We are following an almost completely unconscious Christina and a heavily aggressive Eric around to what I can only assume is the Chasm. I cannot believe he is going to do this but then again I can completely believe it.

He used to beat you, I remind myself harshly, his own sister.

He throws her into the railing to which she grabs weakly, throwing her upper torso over the side before proceeding to vomit violently over the edge.

"Now, it seems that none of you incompetent initiates leant from the lesson earlier. So here, dear Christina is going to hang over the edge of our beautifully sculptured Chasm, aren't you?" He asks her sweetly as if she has any sort of choice in this. It makes me feel sick.

She spits the remaining sick from her mouth which is now mixed with crimson blood seeping from her bleeding gums. Triumphantly, she squares her shoulders toward Eric as if to say I won't conform to your rules but I will not back down either.

"Whatever you say, sir" she retorts, curtsying before him.

I admire her strength but what she knows of Eric is only from what she has seen of him. She does not know what he is truly like and with a remark like that will have on him.

"Five minutes," he confirms before grabbing her arms and lowing her roughly down the side of Chasm. It is wet and slippy; her body is already weak from a less than successful fight with Molly and as to prove my point, as soon as Eric lose his hold on her the muscles in her arm jump violently beneath her skin. I can almost hear them scream as they bare her dead weight from plummeting to her death.

It is possibly only seconds after the ordeal begins but to us it feels like hours. Christina has beads of sweat leaking down her face as she struggles to keep herself up, her fingers slowly slipping down the bars of the railing. Behind her, the inconvenient waterfall flows is a disjointed form, splashing liquid in any direction; just enough lands around her, adding more fuel to the already lit fire as she struggles for her life.

Then suddenly, something happens. Will speaks up, whispering words of encouragement at first, the mandarin forces me to do the same. Soon we near her body, telling her that she can do it, there is only a few minutes to go and then she will be able to come back up. Eric looks down at our attempts to save her, the initiate he clearly wants dead, locking eyes with me but he says nothing and with a gleeful smile, I begin to talk louder.

Christina smiles at us, but it speaks volumes of relief as the tears cloud up her irises. I do not know how it feels to be on the other side of these Chasm walls but I do know what it is like to be on the receiving end of Eric's torment and empathy fills me as Will and I are close enough to see every detail of her face. My hands are so close to touching her own but they do not. If she happens to slip to the point of no return however, they are there ready for the taking. I will not let Christina die, not like this and especially not at the hands of Eric - My insane, deranged, inhumane brother.

Someone in the crowd must have been keeping tabs on Eric's stopwatch because as it hits the five minute mark, they shout at us to let her up. So we do. I grab her lower torso and legs as Will takes her arms and together we heave up over the mouth of her almost death trap, letting her surface again as she falls against it on our side – the safe side – breathing in gulps of air like she has not taken a breath in an eternity.

Maybe she did not breathe down there, maybe she was dying way before the thing in which was supposed to do the killing did its job.

She smiles at us as we support both her shoulders, bearing her weight between us as we follow the rest back to our training room. I do not know much about friendship but I think I just acquired one. Or maybe two.

In the training room, Four is waiting for us. His back is placed upon the wall like it was when we entered this morning only that feels like years ago now. His face does not show much but he looks over at me, locking eye contact with me before shifting them slightly to the middle of Will and I. If Christina is not a clue to Eric's recent antics then I do not know what would be.

He does not voice anything in front of us but as Eric moves closer, I see him engage my brother in conversation. I am still not so sure about Four but compared to other people I have seen in change of Dauntless Compound, I am suddenly glad we have him watching over us.

Just as quickly as the relief I am feeling comes to life it leaves me, as Eric no longer obscures my view of the board, reminding me that our fight is yet to come.

"Initiates!" he calls over us, bringing our attention back over to him. He does not say anything at first; instead he stares at me as an evil grin begins to take shape around his mouth and as if on cue, the rest of the initiates in front of me move to the side giving me a path way leading all the way to the arena in the middle.

What is this? I think to myself, some sort of sick game?

"Come on dear sister, lets fight like we used to when we were kids," he taunts me, increasing the sick feeling growing in my stomach. Abnegation's do not fight and in the corner of my eye I see something falter in Four's carefully crafted persona at Eric's words. Maybe he has clicked on, I think and just as I say it I click on as well, "fight like we used to when we were kids".

Oh no, oh god no.

My legs feel stiff and jellified when I try to walk but nevertheless I find myself standing opposite him in the arena anyway.

And just like last time, it all goes black.

The only thing I remember is the approaching form of Four making his way closer to me, then it all goes black as I fall through time and space without real understanding of why...

More to come! Thank you again to every single one of you who have stuck by this story! Also, this is Divergent timeline compliant at the moment but it may all change when I come to write events after the first book, I am not too sure Insurgent will fit with what I have in mind.