"WAKE UP!!!" Tobias yells at the top of his lungs. It's 6:45, and all the transfer initiates are still fast asleep. All except the Abnegation transfer, Nicholas. He seems determined to prove himself, even if it only includes getting up earlier than the other initiates.

Some of them sit bolt upright, jumping out of bed as fast as the human body is physically able to function and snatch up their training clothes. Some only stir, and Vérité hasn't moved an inch.

I look at Tobias, and he looks back. We smile, silently communicating, and I dash out to grab a bucket of iced water. As I head back, the weight of the full bucket is straining my muscles, despite how much stronger I have become these past few years. I can already feel my pulse quicken in anticipation.

When I get back, I creep up to Vérité and slowly trickle the water around her feet, then work my way up to her head, being careful not to let the water touch her—then all of a sudden, I plunge the entire bucket of water, ice and all, onto her face.

She yelps and falls out of bed. When she resurfaces, she is brushing her dripping hair out of her eyes, glaring intensely at me. "Really?" she snaps, standing up. "That's your solution to getting us up?"

I hold my ground, trying to keep my expression neutral, but I can't help a slight grin. "It worked, didn't it?"

She doesn't respond immediately, her eyes narrowing as she fidgets with her soaked hair. Tobias, seeing the tension, says, "Alright, Six, let's head to the training room."

Tobias and I share a look, the kind that speaks volumes without saying a word. As we exit the dormitory, I catch a glimpse of Vérité, already muttering to herself. I suppress a chuckle.

We reach the training room, and Tobias and I begin to set up the targets. A few seconds after we've finished, the first group of initiates starts filing in. Most of them are bleary-eyed and exhausted from the early wake-up call, but there's no time for complaints. They know how it works by now. They know what it takes to be Dauntless. Whether or not they can actually accomplish it is another matter altogether.

"Alright," Tobias says in his instructor voice while walking toward the group of transfers. "Your gun isn't just a tool - it's a weapon. If you can't control it, you're already dead."

I step up next to him, checking my own gun, the cool metal in my grip a reminder of what's at stake. "We're going to start simple. Each of you will shoot at a different target. Don't just aim blindly - focus on your stance, your breathing, and above all, your mindset. We're not here to see who can hit the target the fastest. We're here to see who can hit it consistently."

The initiates nod, some more confidently than others. A couple of them glance at each other nervously, but I can tell they're trying to suppress their fear. It's always the same with first-timers - no one wants to look like they're struggling.

When they have a couple of unguided shots, Tobias and I begin to walk among them, observing their form and correcting as needed. I go up to one who looks like she is struggling - Ellie, I think her name is, from Erudite—and watch her closely but keep my distance so she is not put off. She fires too quickly and misses by about a foot, the shot going far too far to the right.

"Slow down," I say, walking up to her. "Focus on your grip. Relax your hands. It's not about speed. Remember, you control the weapon, not the other way around."

She nods, adjusting her grip. I give her a nod of approval before moving on.

Tobias is already with another group, watching Nicholas as he sets himself at the line. He fires, and the shot lands just outside the second-from-center circle of his target, the Red section, breaching on the blue. His face tightens, frustration flickering in his eyes.

"You're doing really well, but I think you're overthinking it," Tobias tells him, his voice calm but authoritative. "Adjust your feet. A little more stability. You're tensing up."

He's already re-centering himself, and this time, his shot lands squarely in the target's center. Tobias doesn't say much, just gives a slight nod.

"Much better," he says, his voice warmer this time.

The sound of gunshots fills the room, mingling with the occasional direction from Tobias or me as we continue to walk the line, correcting form and technique. The tension in the room gradually starts to shift, the initiates falling into a rhythm, focusing on their targets. I feel the familiar rush—the intensity, the drive that always comes with Dauntless training.

By the time the session is over, some of them are sweating, their hands tired, but they're all a little better than when they walked in. I'm proud of how far they've come already. It's never easy to adapt to this life.

Tobias claps his hands together, the sound cutting through the air. "Alright. That's enough for this morning. You'll get another chance to practice, but remember: this isn't just about hitting a target. It's about survival. Keep your focus. Stay sharp. Now, off to lunch. Be back here by 13:00 for knife throwing."

After the initiates have left, Tobias and I clear away the guns and set up the knives, chatting all the while about the initiates' progress. Then we go grab a bite to eat before training starts again.

The initiates all arrive together at one o'clock on the dot. I can tell some of them are a little apprehensive about what comes next—knife throwing is a whole different kind of challenge.

As soon as everyone has gathered around, I begin to speak. "This afternoon, you will be learning to throw knives accurately. Knife throwing requires concentration and focus, just like shooting a gun."

I pick up a knife, still facing the initiates, then whirl around and fling it at the target. It hits the very center of the bullseye.

All the initiates look impressed. All except Vérité, that is. She just smirks as though thinking that she could do sooooo much better.

Yeah, totally, I think sarcastically.

After giving her a fierce glare, I turn to face Tobias and ask, "Care to demonstrate?"

Tobias gives me a questioning look. We had agreed that I would be the one to throw knives this year. I jerk my head toward the target meaningfully. A look of comprehension dawns on his face. We haven't thrown knives at each other since my initiation, but last night, I had a hilarious idea.

Tobias grins and walks over to the target, standing in front of it after yanking the knife that is stuck there out. He is so tall that the top of his head almost touches the top of the board. Unlike me—I don't even reach the center of the target.

I pick up another three knives and turn to the target and Tobias.

"Eyes open," I say, tapping the space in between my eyes, exactly like when Tobias threw knives at me. I draw my hand back to throw when a Candor initiate called Rose (and I strongly suspect of having a crush on Tobias) yells, "Wait, you're not going to throw knives at him, are you!?"

I lower my hand and turn to her. "Yeah?" I say, pretending to be confused about why she is concerned.

"But… but why?"

"For demonstration purposes," I say, even though there is so much more behind it.

Turning back to the target, I pull my arm back again and throw. The first two knives land in the same places as when our positions were switched. I take a deep breath before I throw the last knife. It goes right where I aimed. It nicks the tip of Tobias' ear.

Tobias freezes for a moment, then we both burst out laughing. I can feel the tension leaving my body as the sound of our shared laughter fills the room.

He turns around, pulls all three knives out of the target one by one, and walks back over to us, still chuckling.

Tobias and I are still laughing his head off while the initiates stare at us speechless.

"What the smeg is wrong with you?!" cries the Amity transfer, Quin. "You cut him and you are both laughing like maniacs! What goes on in your messed-up minds?"

"Oh, nothing much," I say to her, composing myself but still grinning. "Just thought I would get a little revenge."

We burst out laughing again at my latest comment while the transfers simply stare at us.

"Umm," begins Nicholas, "I don't mean to be rude, but what do you mean by revenge?"

I control my laughter and begin, "When I was an initiate a few years back, Four was my instructor. Eric, one of the leaders of Dauntless, was observing training and one of my friends wasn't doing too well with knife throwing."

I pause and swallow a lump that rises in my throat at the thought of Al.

"Well anyway, long story short, it ended up with me standing in front of the target while Four threw knives at me. All the knives I threw just there landed in the exact same places as when our positions were switched, including the last one." I pause, then break into laughter again. A couple of the initiates chuckle as well, but sone are still trying to process everything.

"Okay, grab a station and a few knives, and get throwing!" I yell, clapping my hands to break the tension. The initiates quickly disperse, grabbing knives and taking their positions. The buzz of activity fills the room, and I watch very intensely as they throw, each one more confident than the last.

Tobias and I do the same thing as with the guns - watching and giving advice and feedback where required.

Just as I'm about to explain a specific technique to Ellie, a loud thunk rings out, and I glance over to see a knife lodged in the ceiling. I blink a few times, then look over at the culprit - a terrified Candor initiate, who's now staring at his hands as if they've betrayed him.

"What happened?" I ask.

"It slipped," he replied shakily, "My hands are sweaty."

"Four can grab it for you while you go dry your hands."

The Candor transfer lets out a nervous laugh, his face going beetroot red.

Tobias grabs a step ladder, climbs it and yanks the knife out, grinning to himself as the guilty initiate wiped his hands on his trousers.

Several hours later, there's been a massive improvement in all the initiates, except Quin and Rose. Surprisingly, Nicholas is doing the best, hitting the center almost every single time. I am rather shocked, considering he's the Stiff. I'm starting to wonder if there's more to him than meets the eye. He's usually so serious and withdrawn, but he's proving to be a lot more capable than I expected.

The afternoon is drawing to a close when I shout at them to put their knives away. "Head off to dinner, and don't be late tomorrow!" I remind them, "Be here by 6:30.

Tobias and I have just finished packing up the targets when we both notice at the same time that Rose is still standing there, looking at Tobias with a somewhat dazed expression, as if she hasn't quite processed the fact that he isn't interested.

"Can I help you, Rose?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

She completely ignores me and directing her words at Tobias, says in a flirtatious way while twirling a strand of white-blond hair around her finger, "Hey Four, I wasn't very good at knife throwing today. I was wondering if you could give me some extra coaching."

I can see Tobias's expression harden, his patience wearing thin. "I'm sorry," Tobias says curtly, his voice icy. "Strictly no coaching after training hours."

Rose pouts and leans in, saying, "Well, if you're not going to teach me to throw knives, then how about a little kiss?" Her voice is low, almost teasing.

It tortures me to see my fiancé being flirted with this way, but to my relief and hilarity, Tobias pushes her off, causing her to stumble backward.

"I am already engaged," he says, his voice cold, taking on the instructive tone that always sends chills down my spine. "So unless you want to end up in the infirmary, I suggest you back off before I beat the living * out of you."

I'm already starting to feel the tension in the room as Rose narrows her eyes at Tobias, her lips curling into a sneer. "She doesn't have to know," Rose says, regaining her balance and batting her eyelids at him, an attempt at being coquettish.

I smirk, stepping closer. "Yeah, right," Tobias responds, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He clearly has no patience for her behavior.

"Come along, Rose," I intervene, my voice hard. "Run off to dinner or you might find that you rank just… slips down even further down."

Her face flushes, and she scowls at me, clearly angry, before giving Tobias one last flirtatious wave. "You don't know what you're missing," she says, her voice tight with frustration, before flouncing out of the door.

Tobias slams the door behind her, muttering under his breath, "What an absolute *."

I let out a long sigh, feeling the weight of the encounter lift off my shoulders. "Thank goodness that's over," I say, a sense of relief flooding me.

I give Tobias a quick peck on the cheek before asking, "Do you want to head back to the apartment for dinner rather than going to the cafeteria?"

He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer, and gives me a long, lingering kiss. When he pulls away, his lips are still a little warm, and his eyes are soft. "Absolutely," he whispers.

A/N: Thanks for reading! This chapter wasn't great and was quite boring but I have a rough plan for the next few which will hopefully be better than this one.

My friend helped me brainstorm some ideas, but as always I am always up for feedback and would really appreciate some reviews.

Also, I have been having been having some technical difficulties and I just wanted to know if everyone can still access all five chapters and two authors notes.

Disclaimer: I do not own Divergent. The Divergent triology belongs to Veronica Roth.

Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dwarf.