MATERIALIST

MATERIALIST

-Sirius Black

-Remus Lupin

-Viktor Krum

-James Potter

-Draco Malfoy

TheBlackHate - Materialist

divergent

twilight

harry potter

the walking dead

Knowledge pt.8

check here for the other parts!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word Count: 5.5k

As usual, Michelle didn't sleep that night, but it wasn't for training this time. She spent most of the night on a rooftop she had discovered while exploring the faction, relishing the peace it brought.

She felt anxious, almost scared at the thought of seeing her mother—if she showed up at all.

She stared at the horizon before her, occasionally scribbling in her notebook. Many found their city depressing and grotesque, with its various buildings and areas destroyed by the war years ago. For Michelle, though, they served as inspiration for her drawings.

However, her intricate designs began to take on a different tone from those she created in her old faction. They seemed to grow darker, more complex, and detailed as the days went by. Initially, she thought it was just a coincidence until she realized it was her state of mind, a reflection of the new reality she found herself in.

Dawn arrived sooner than she would have liked, and she reluctantly got up from the rooftop, heading toward the base's entrance. She stopped when she heard a faint mechanical noise, turning abruptly to locate the source.

She looked around, confused, until her eyes settled on a camera a few meters away. She approached it, swearing she had seen that camera pointing towards the end of the rooftop, not towards the door.

"What are you up to?" she muttered, peering closely at the device. 

The camera swiveled slightly, its lens focusing directly on her. Michelle's heart raced. She had always been cautious, but this felt different—like she was being watched, scrutinized. She stepped back, trying to think clearly. 

Was it a security measure? Or was someone spying on her?

She shook off the uneasy feeling and made her way to the entrance. She had a long day ahead, and dwelling on the camera would only distract her from her tasks. But as she walked away, the sense of being observed lingered, a shadow that would follow her throughout the day.

She raised an eyebrow, unaware of who was behind the camera, and continued on her way inside the faction.

When she reached the mess hall, she was surprised to see most of her companions already having breakfast, an air of lightness and cheerfulness among them. She took her usual seat next to Sunny, who was eating toast and chatting with Max and Tina, both of whom were also in high spirits.

“There you are! I was looking for you earlier. You weren’t in the dormitory or the gym. Where on earth did you go?” Sunny asked, sipping from the mug she held in her hand. “Ready? For the visits? Maybe you can introduce me to your parents! My mom would be thrilled to meet you.”

“I’m not going,” Michelle replied. Sunny's mouth fell open, confused.

“What do you mean you’re not coming? Your parents will be there!” Tina exclaimed, receiving a bored look from Michelle. “You don’t want them to come all this way for nothing, do you?”

Michelle shrugged, lowering her head and starting to poke at a piece of bread with jam, trying to buy some time. A thousand thoughts crowded her mind—the idea that her mother would actually come to the visits seemed highly unlikely.

But if she did come, what would she say? What would she do?

During breakfast, she withdrew into her thoughts, considering all the possible scenarios, until she felt a gaze piercing into the back of her head. She looked up, scanning the cafeteria for anyone who might be staring at her so intently.

“Why is Eric looking at you like he wants to kill you?” Michelle snapped her head towards Tina, who was looking behind her.

“Yeah, what did you do?” Max added, also observing the young leader.

Michelle turned slowly to see Eric's cold, calculating eyes fixed on her. His expression was unreadable, but there was a clear intensity that unsettled her. She forced herself to meet his gaze, trying not to show any sign of discomfort.

"I don't know," she muttered, breaking eye contact and turning back to her friends. "Maybe he's just in a bad mood."

"Or maybe," Max said, lowering his voice, "he knows something we don't."

"Like what?" Sunny asked, leaning in closer.

Michelle shook her head, trying to dismiss the growing tension. "I don't know. But whatever it is, I’ll deal with it later."

The rest of breakfast passed in relative silence, the cheerful atmosphere now tinged with an underlying tension. Michelle's mind raced with questions and uncertainties, the unease from the rooftop camera still lingering. She couldn't shake the feeling that something was brewing, something that would soon force her to confront more than just the possibility of seeing her mother.

Michelle slowly turned to see where the two were looking, and, of course, it was Eric. He watched her intensely, not so much aggressively, but more...curiously?

Sunny scoffed, "Ignore him. He's making our initiation a nightmare. I don't know what you did to piss him off, but I'd be careful."

Michelle nodded slowly, maintaining eye contact with the blonde until Lauren distracted him with an elbow to the ribs before standing up and silently leaving the cafeteria.

"I didn't do anything..." Michelle whispered.

"You must have done something. I don't think he's such a jerk to target you for no reason."

"Max, have you seen him?!" Tina exclaimed. "He's a total asshole. He's probably pissed because she climbed the ranks so quickly."

Max furrowed his brow, looking confused. "But shouldn't he be happy about that? I mean, the better people are, the better it is for the faction, right? Not that she's anything special."

Michelle looked at him, feeling a bit offended, and Max quickly corrected himself. "No offense, but there are people with way more talent than you, and yet he doesn't torment them constantly. You even helped him win capture the flag!"

"Ugh! Shut up, Max, you're not helping," Sunny snapped, standing up from the table. "Michelle, are you coming? Our parents should be arriving soon."

Reluctantly, Michelle stood up, ignoring the knot in her stomach as she walked toward the Pit; the chatter and laughter of her companions filled her ears. She distanced herself from the crowd, finding a more isolated, quieter spot.

Within minutes, the Dauntless faction was filled with exclamations, laughter, and chatter, even some tears. Michelle broke away from Sunny, leaving her to search for her parents among the crowd. Various colors invaded the monotony of the faction, like a splash of paint on a black canvas.

Michelle's eyes scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face. Despite her earlier resolve to avoid this meeting, a small part of her hoped to see her mother. The anticipation gnawed at her, mixing with fear and anxiety.

As the crowd continued to bustle, she found a quiet corner to sit and observe, her sketchbook in hand. She doodled absentmindedly, her mind swirling with thoughts of what she would say if her mother did appear. Would she be angry? Sad? Relieved?

Michelle watched as the families reunited, hugging each other as if they hadn't seen each other in centuries. A pang hit her heart; a false hope formed inside her when she spotted a man in the crowd dressed in black and white, with wavy hair and the posture of someone who knew he held power.

She pushed herself off the wall she had been leaning against, vainly hoping that the man was her father. However, that hope was crushed when one of her initiation companions embraced him.

She felt foolish for believing that her father, who had disappeared years ago, would miraculously return just to see her. She still hadn't come to terms with his absence, unable to accept her mother's words, assuming he had probably ended up in some building in another part of the city, killed by the factionless.

Michelle clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she bit her tongue against the irritation building inside her. The Pit, despite its immense size, began to feel claustrophobic, as if all the air inside had been selfishly stolen by the happy families who continued to laugh and chat.

Her ears felt like they might bleed.

At that moment, she decided that this was not the place for her. She gave up on the idea of searching for her mother in the crowd because, deep down, she knew the woman would never set foot in the Dauntless faction, let alone come to see her of all people.

Unnoticed, Michelle slipped out of the Pit, heading towards the gym she now knew like the back of her hand. In no time, she found herself bare-handed, her jacket discarded a few meters away on the floor, standing in front of a punching bag.

She was overwhelmed with a multitude of emotions, something she wasn't used to. Was it sadness? Anger? Disappointment?

Resignation?

Michelle took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Her fists itched to hit something, to release the pent-up frustration inside her. She approached the punching bag and started to throw punches, each hit harder than the last.

With every punch, she tried to channel her emotions—sadness for her father, anger at her mother, and disappointment in herself for still hoping against hope. The rhythmic thumping of her fists against the bag became a cathartic release, a way to express everything she couldn't put into words.

Tears of frustration mixed with sweat as she continued her assault on the bag. Her thoughts swirled in chaos, each punch a desperate attempt to make sense of her feelings. She punched until her knuckles were sore, her breath coming in ragged gasps, but she couldn't stop. It was the only way she knew how to cope.

In that moment of raw emotion, Michelle felt a strange sense of clarity. She might not have her family here, and she might never find the answers she sought, but she had herself. She had her strength, her resilience, and her determination.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

As she slowed down, her punches becoming weaker, she leaned against the bag, trying to catch her breath. The gym was silent except for her labored breathing and the faint echo of her punches. She wiped her face with her sleeve, the sting of tears and sweat mixing together.

Michelle took another deep breath and started again. She let out her frustration, even if it was just for a moment.

“What are you doing here, rookie?” Eric’s cold voice echoed through the gym, freezing Michelle in place before she could continue her workout.

“What does it look like?” she retorted quickly, her fists pounding the heavy bag with increasing force. She imagined her mother’s face as the target, the hate she felt for that woman growing stronger each day. Every thought of her mother brought a new reason to despise her.

Despite the anger fueling her, Michelle stayed alert, now aware that she wasn’t alone. The young leader seemed to have singled her out from everyone else. She heard his footsteps approaching cautiously, his boots echoing in the gym alongside the thuds of her punches.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him stop beside her. Realizing the potential trouble she could be in for speaking out of turn to Eric, she decided to remain silent and avoid looking at him. She was aware that her current mood was not suitable for a confrontation.

Eric’s stance grew more rigid. “Oh,” he huffed provocatively, “so now we’re playing the silent game, rookie?”

Michelle finally stopped when Eric blocked the heavy bag with his arm, his piercing blue eyes fixed intently on her. A faint blush crept across her face, and she lowered her gaze, hoping he would leave her alone.

“Hm?” Eric persisted, having clearly caught her full attention. “What’s wrong? Has that little mouth of yours finally run out of things to say, or was it never capable of speaking up?”

Michelle lifted her gaze to meet his eyes, her anger still palpable. “Why do you think I switched factions?”

Eric looked almost surprised to hear her voice and grinned mischievously. “Ah, here we go. The rookie finally speaks. Was it so hard to answer your leader? Or was that too much to ask?”

He shook his head, a satisfied sound escaping him as he finally released the bag and placed his hands behind his back. Michelle, tired of the game Eric seemed to relish, moved toward where she had dropped her jacket. When she reached for it, Eric’s hand intervened, grabbing the jacket and tossing it aside, toward the door.

She turned to face him, her brows furrowed in confusion. “You wanted to train? Fine, then train with me. Let’s go.”

Eric removed his jacket, tossing it near where Michelle’s had landed, and then kicked off his boots, gesturing for her to do the same. Hesitant and confused, Michelle complied, wondering why, all of a sudden, Eric wanted to spar with her. Was this his chance to take her out? Was his hatred for her really that intense?

She followed him onto the mat, quickly assuming a defensive stance. “Take off your hoodie,” he ordered, and she complied, letting the black hoodie fall next to the mat.

Before the hoodie even touched the ground, Eric lunged at Michelle, throwing a right hook that she narrowly dodged. She knew Eric played dirty, but she was determined to play even dirtier.

Michelle responded immediately with a direct punch to the solar plexus, but Eric, with his superior experience, grabbed her wrist, twisting it and pulling her into his chest. He wrapped an arm around her neck, immobilizing her.

“You’re fast, but not fast enough,” he whispered into her ear, his voice strained from the effort of holding her in place. Michelle began to feel the air slipping away, her vision dimming. In a desperate move, she drove her head back with all her strength, striking Eric directly in the nose.

The blow wasn’t enough to cause serious damage, but it was enough to make Eric’s nose bleed and free her from his hold. Michelle wasted no time and went back on the offensive, landing punch after punch. Eric tried to regain control, but she had memorized the slight twitch he made before attacking.

They fought relentlessly for what felt like an eternity until Michelle managed to knock him down with a strike to his legs. However, Eric grabbed her and pulled her down with him.

The situation flipped as Eric ended up on top of her, his grip tightening around her throat and slowly choking her. Terror gripped Michelle as she realized her initial suspicion wasn't far off the mark.

She fought desperately to reverse the situation, but Eric was significantly larger and stronger. As the black spots began to cloud her vision, she repeatedly struck Eric's arm, praying he would relent. To her immense relief, the young leader finally loosened his grip on her neck.

Michelle scrambled away, propping herself up on her elbows and coughing violently. She stayed in that position for a few seconds, catching her breath, until she felt Eric rise and watch her. “Do you surrender?” he challenged, his tone taunting.

She shook her head, resolute not to give in. She heard his footsteps muffled by the mat as he approached; Eric was trying to catch her off guard while she was still on the ground. As he grabbed her hair to resume the fight, Michelle swiftly pulled a small dagger hidden in the lining of her pants.

With a quick, decisive motion, she shoved Eric’s arm aside and lunged at him, determined to use every means at her disposal to win. Gripping the cold metal of the dagger firmly in her sweaty hand, Michelle prepared herself to confront Eric, ready to turn the fight in her favor.

With a quick and precise motion, Michelle aimed the dagger at the exposed flank of her opponent. But Eric, reacting instinctively, blocked her arm halfway. A moment of stalemate followed as the two faced each other, breathing heavily in the charged atmosphere.

Eric’s eyes burned with fury, but there was also a glimmer of admiration for her resolve. Michelle, on her part, showed no hesitation; her eyes were ablaze with fierce determination.

With supreme effort, Michelle managed to free the dagger from Eric’s grasp and pressed on with her assault. This time, she aimed directly at his chest. Eric, skilled in close combat, managed to deflect the blow with his arm, leaving a shallow cut along his forearm.

The fight raged on, both combatants giving their all. Every move was calculated and brutal. Eric tried to regain control, attempting to overpower Michelle with his superior strength, but she refused to give an inch. Every attack was met with ferocity, every hold countered with determination.

In a moment of distraction, Eric failed to block Michelle’s next move. She repeated the same maneuver he had used earlier, forcing him against her chest and pressing the dagger’s blade against his throat.

Eric froze in place. “Not fast enough?” she whispered in his ear, releasing her grip soon after, panting heavily, and stepping off the mat, signaling that the sparring session was over.

“Playing dirty, initiate?” Eric asked in a serious tone, though Michelle could sense a hint of amusement in his voice. She shrugged, turning her back on him, and bent down to grab a water bottle from one of the benches.

She tossed him a bottle, which he caught and drank from as if he were parched.

Michelle returned to the mat, sitting down and continuing to sip from her own bottle, ignoring the sharp gaze Eric fixed on her. “I have to admit, you surprised me, initiate.”

“I have a name,” Michelle responded tersely, noting that since joining the faction, Eric had yet to use her name.

Eric chuckled bitterly, surprisingly sitting down next to her. “I’ll call you whatever I please, initiate,” he emphasized the last word, a bit disappointed by her lack of reaction. Clearing his throat, he tossed the empty water bottle a few feet away. “You didn’t answer the question I asked.”

Michelle turned towards him, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing here, initiate? Shouldn’t you be with your parents, pretending to be the picture-perfect family, ignoring the fact that you might never see them again?”

She turned her gaze back to the empty space in front of her, biting her tongue, her thoughts seething with frustration. Eric’s presence was a stark reminder of why she was here and not back in the Pit with the others.

“I don’t have anyone,” she said bitterly, catching out of the corner of her eye that Eric was still staring at her, waiting—or rather, demanding—a response.

Eric said nothing, choosing instead to observe something he had never noticed before: a tattoo peeking out from the tank top she was wearing.

The intricate design covered almost her entire back, and Eric frowned, puzzled by the fact that he had never seen this tattoo in the shop, nor this style. “Interesting tattoo,” he remarked apathetically. Michelle turned toward him, finally granting him her full attention, and saw him leaning slightly back, propped up on one arm as he studied her back.

Inside, she felt a flicker of pride and decided to take a perhaps foolish, risky move. She knelt and turned her back fully to him, lifting her tank top and bra with her hands to reveal the entire design.

She couldn’t see his reaction, nor his expression to gauge his opinion on whether he liked it or not. “Is there a new tattoo artist? I’ve never seen this style before.”

Michelle felt a pang of disappointment as she heard his apathetic tone, as if she had just asked about the most boring topic in the world. She felt a surge of embarrassment, thinking she had misjudged the nature of his initial question.

She adjusted her clothes, rising from the mat as quickly as possible, chastising herself for the second time that day for hoping she had finally received a compliment from him.

She didn’t understand why she continued to cling to the hope that someday the young leader might find some sympathy for her. It was a false hope, and she should have done what everyone had advised from the beginning: ignore him.

Gathering her belongings, she left the gym, too lost in her thoughts to notice that Eric followed her until he grabbed her by the shoulder and slammed her against the cold wall of the corridor.

Eric’s gaze was furious. “I don’t know who you think you are, but don’t bring me this disrespect, especially after not punishing you for all the crap you’ve pulled. So either you cut out this superior attitude, or I’ll personally see to it that you’re thrown off the edge.” Michelle stared at him, biting her tongue to keep fear from overcoming her. “Do you understand?”

She nodded slowly, sighing in relief when he finally released her shoulder, which would likely bruise with the imprint of his fingers. She watched him storm down the corridor, turning back toward the Pit, and Michelle hurried back to her quarters, not in the mood to encounter anyone on her path.

Unbeknownst to her, however, Eric didn’t head to the Pit. Instead, he made his way to the tattoo shop, where, upon entering, he was greeted enthusiastically by Tyson. “Eric, getting a new tattoo?”

“Not exactly. Who did the tattoo on the back of the new initiate?” Eric asked, glancing around the shop, searching for any tattoos that might resemble the one he had seen a few minutes ago.

Tyson chuckled, leaning on the counter with his elbows. “Well, my friend, I think I’ve done at least one tattoo for every new recruit who’s come through here this year. But I believe I know who you’re talking about. Michelle, I assume?”

“Exactly,” Eric replied nonchalantly, and Tyson smiled.

“I did the tattoo,” Tyson said, and Eric’s expression grew serious. “How come I don’t see this new style of yours on any of these walls? Did she have to do you a favor to get something done by you?”

Tyson burst into a rough laugh, shaking his head. Eric didn’t appreciate the humor. “No, Eric. The reason you don’t see one of my new ‘masterpieces’”—he made air quotes with his fingers—“is quite simple. Yes, I did the tattoo, but the design isn’t mine.”

“I don’t have time for these guessing games, Tyson,” Eric replied, frustrated. Tyson, sensing Eric’s mood, restrained his amusement and looked at him calmly.

“She designed it herself,” Tyson said. Seeing Eric raise his eyebrows, he nodded. “She came in and asked if it was possible to do a tattoo if she provided a specific design. Of course, we said yes. That’s why it’s not on display; she designed it herself. The girl’s got talent. I have to admit, I hope she’ll come work here... we could use some innovation.”

Eric nodded and left the tattoo shop, giving a brief nod to Tyson behind the counter. He went back to his own affairs, though inside he didn’t want to admit that he wanted a tattoo as cool as the one Michelle had. Especially since he’d have to ask her directly for a favor.

A month had passed since the beginning of the initiation, and as the first module came to an end, Michelle had managed to secure third place in the rankings, savoring the satisfaction of having improved day by day.

She ignored the gnawing emptiness in her stomach that had formed after her last interaction with Eric over a week ago and concluded that she must be a masochist for continuing to seek the young leader's attention amidst the crowd, fully aware that each encounter ended with her being hurt physically or emotionally.

In the end, she couldn't let it bother her too much; she needed to focus on climbing even higher in the rankings to prove to everyone that she was better than they were. It was a personal satisfaction that grew each day with every fight she won and every compliment Four gave her.

That day, everyone gathered in the massive gym, forming a semi-circle with Four in front of them and Eric standing a meter away, casually flicking a throwing knife between his fingers as if it were a feather.

“Today marks the end of the first module, and anyone below the red line will be eliminated tonight. So, I suggest you spend these last hours with the friends you won’t be seeing again,” he said, surveying the reduced group of initiates. “The second module, as mentioned, will be mental and likely the most exhausting, so take advantage of these days off to rest. We’ll see you again on Monday.”

Michelle heard someone sobbing behind her but remained still, staring at the ranking list pinned to the wall instead of following her peers out of the gym. She felt an embrace from the side and immediately recognized Sunny’s familiar scent, wrapping her arm around her friend’s waist in return.

Sunny’s excitement was palpable, and Michelle couldn’t help but grin. “We did it!” Sunny exclaimed, hugging her tightly. Michelle rested her head on Sunny’s shoulder, soaking up the positive energy radiating from her friend.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t celebrate so soon,” a voice that was all too familiar made Michelle spin around sharply, coming face-to-face with Eric’s sadistic smirk. “The next module is just as tough, if not tougher. I wouldn’t be surprised to see one of you”—he looked at Sunny—“not make it.”

Michelle stepped away from Sunny and placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her out of the gym in an attempt to shield her from Eric’s discouraging words.

“What an asshole,” Sunny muttered once they were out of earshot of the gym. “I’ll make it! Come on, I’m in seventh place!”

Michelle glanced at her friend and said simply, “Ignore him,” as they continued toward the Pit, where their fellow initiates and another group had gathered to discuss something.

“…tonight, at nine,” Michelle overheard someone say. As they reached the group, Tina approached them, grabbing both their wrists and leading them toward the clothing stores on the other side of the Pit.

“What are you doing?” Sunny asked, pulling away from Tina’s grip. Michelle followed suit. Tina looked at them as if they had just said the most ridiculous thing ever.

“We absolutely need to go buy something! Haven’t you heard?” Tina insisted.

Sunny huffed, “No, we just got here. Maybe if you’d let us stay where we were, we’d know what’s going on.”

Tina rolled her eyes. “There’s a surprise event tonight, and we need to be prepared. You know how it is—Dauntless here love to throw curveballs.” She grabbed their arms again, this time with a firmer grip. “Come on, you don’t want to be caught off guard.”

Michelle and Sunny exchanged glances, then followed Tina, making their way to the stores. 

Tina waved her hand dismissively. “Tonight’s a party to celebrate the initiates who made it through the first phase of the module, and we need to celebrate, girls!” she exclaimed, starting to dance without music or rhythm.

The two friends exchanged skeptical glances, but Sunny decided to join Tina, eager at the prospect of attending a real party rather than just going out for drinks with friends.

Michelle, however, wasn’t as enthusiastic as the two girls who eagerly moved toward the stores a few meters ahead, already discussing what they might wear to make a good impression.

She followed them quietly, pulling her jacket tighter around herself to shield against the biting wind that swept through the faction that day. The chill gave her goosebumps, and she sighed in relief as they entered one of the stores, finally escaping the cold.

“Come on, Michelle! Let’s go!” Sunny grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her toward the back of the store where various party dresses, skirts, and outfits were displayed, mostly in colors like black, gray, and red. “This one’s amazing!”

Michelle looked at the dress Sunny had picked off a hanger, a simple black, form-fitting dress that reached the ankles. She regarded it absentmindedly, nodding at the idea of seeing her friend wear it, which elicited a sarcastic huff from Sunny.

“We’re not torturing you, you know. It would be nice to see you dressed up for once, with a nice dress and some makeup to highlight your features,” Tina commented as she joined them with a couple of dresses in hand. “And who knows, we might finally find you someone.”

Michelle raised an eyebrow, looking at Tina with a mix of curiosity and skepticism. “Find me someone? Like who?” 

“Come on, it’s just a party,” Tina said, shrugging. “Besides, it's not every day you get a chance to dress up and have fun. You never know who you might meet.”

Michelle rolled her eyes at Tina's persistence, trying to escape the pressure to conform to the social norms of the event. She didn’t understand why it was so important to put so much emphasis on something like this. She loathed the attention, even though in the quiet corners of her mind, her thoughts often revolved around someone.

"Sunny only has eyes for Four, and I’ve got my eye on someone too. You’re the only one missing out!" Tina pressed on, ignoring Michelle’s clear signals of discomfort. "Isn’t there anyone you’re interested in?"

"No," Michelle replied, attempting to shut down the conversation.

Tina stopped and gave her a serious look. "I don’t believe you for a second. I mean, there are so many guys and girls around. How is it possible that no one interests you? I saw you talking to that tattooed guy—older than us?"

Michelle sighed, frustrated by Tina’s relentless curiosity. Grabbing a few items at random from the racks, she retreated into a changing room, finally free from Tina’s incessant chatter. Inside, she looked at the clothes she had picked out and wondered if trying something new might not be so bad.

One of the items was a dress similar to Sunny’s but shorter and with a cut that made her feel like a sausage. She tossed it aside and decided to try on the sleeveless, form-fitting turtleneck and pants. As she looked at herself in the mirror, a hollow feeling gripped her stomach, stirring up memories she wished she could forget.

Struggling to remove the pants, which reminded her too much of the Candor style, she accidentally bumped into the changing room wall with her elbow. She heard Sunny’s concerned voice on the other side. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Michelle snapped, her frustration mounting as Sunny continued to knock on the door. “Why are you in your underwear?”

Sunny looked her up and down with an almost disgusted expression. “And you thought you could wear those to a party?! You really don’t know how to dress, do you?” She took the pants from Michelle's hand and disappeared into the store, returning shortly after with five different skirts. “Now try these on and come out so I can see how they look! It’s so nice to do something normal for once.”

Michelle tried on the first skirt. “Hmm, not convinced. Turn around? No, it makes your butt look flat. Ew.”

Then the second one. “Cute, but it’s too formal and long.” 

“How so? It reaches your knee!”

Then the third. “This one you can keep, it’s not bad. A bit basic, but it actually goes really well with that top.”

Then the fourth. Michelle shot down the critique before it could even start. “I can’t walk in this,” she said, trying to pull down the thick material of the denim skirt, which seemed to lift an extra centimeter with each step she took.

“I’ll give you that one.”

And then the last one. When Michelle emerged from the changing room, her friend’s eyes lit up. She jumped up from the couch and gave a brief applause. “This is the one! Come on, look at yourself!”

She grabbed Michelle by the shoulders and led her in front of the full-length mirror. Despite her reluctance to admit it, Michelle found the skirt really cute. It was her style—black and, although very, very short, it had built-in shorts to prevent any wardrobe malfunctions.

What she liked most was the faux belt, which added a raw touch that contrasted with the rest of the outfit. She felt her friend’s fingers brushing her hair away and didn’t think much of it until she saw Sunny’s shocked expression.

“And when did you get this?!” Sunny exclaimed, staring at the tattoo that covered Michelle’s entire back like an intricate map. “It’s not my style, but it’s beautiful—huge, really huge.”

“A while ago,” Michelle said apologetically, heading back into the changing room to put her old clothes back on. She emerged with the other two girls, ready to prepare for the actual party.

Some clarification about my blog

Welcome to my blog! If you don't follow me on Ao3, I recommend doing so because the one-shots published here will be exclusive scenes of the fanfiction that i write there!

Knowledge pt.10

check here for the orther parts!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Michelle struggled to piece together the hazy fragments of the previous night while the pain in her head intensified. Her disoriented state made it difficult to grasp the reality of her situation. When she finally dragged herself out of bed and ventured to the cafeteria, the noise and chaos only exacerbated her discomfort.

Her eyes scanned the bustling room for Sunny, hoping for a familiar face amidst the clamor. She found Sunny at a table, surrounded by others she vaguely recognized. As Michelle approached, she prepared herself for the disapproval she anticipated. Instead, Sunny greeted her with a knowing smile, which only deepened Michelle's confusion.

The table’s occupants included Four, who appeared absorbed in a conversation with a girl about something related to the Wall. Bowie, with his tired eyes and somber expression, sat beside him. To Michelle’s surprise, a familiar face she couldn’t quite place joined her at the table.

“Good morning! The sun is shining, and I heard you finally woke up,” the guy said cheerfully, giving Michelle a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Don’t torment her,” Tyson said, taking a seat to her left and offering a polite greeting to his companions. “Rough night, huh? Where did you disappear to after a certain point, darling?”

Michelle was about to respond when Sunny interrupted. “So, you came to the party? I didn’t see you.”

“Yes, that might be my fault, sweetheart,” he said, leaning in closer and throwing an arm around Michelle’s shoulders. “I found our dear friend here trying to sneak away without even stepping foot into the party. Drink water, lots of it. It’ll help with the headache.”

Sunny’s smirk widened as she watched Michelle, who now felt an uncomfortable sense of self-consciousness. The combination of her headache and the attention made her increasingly uneasy. “What?” she croaked, her voice still rough from sleep.

“I wanted to fill you in on what you missed last night,” the guy continued. “We thought you had either hidden away in the dorms or, worse, in the gym. But it seems you had an equally interesting evening.”

At those words, the guy to her right, who had been chewing on his eggs, turned to her. As he realized what Sunny was referring to, he almost choked on his food, unable to suppress his laughter.

Michelle glanced between Sunny and the others, her confusion growing. “What? What’s going on?” she demanded, her voice rising in frustration.

Sunny’s grin was now almost playful. “Oh, just some fun details about the party and your eventful evening,” she said cryptically.

Michelle’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she tried to piece together what had transpired. As the fragments of memory began to surface, she hoped that the information she’d missed could help her make sense of the bewildering situation she found herself in.

Tyson's chuckle only added to Michelle's growing sense of dread. "Well, let’s just say whoever you spent the night with left a mark," he said with a smirk. As Michelle’s confusion deepened, Tyson pointed to a spot on her neck, which seemed to radiate an inexplicable sensitivity. "Your prince charming left a nice hickey here and here."

"And you told me there wasn’t anyone interesting, yet…" Sunny teased, her tone light but her gaze scrutinizing. "Anyway, nice to meet you, Sunny," she added, turning to the two men beside her.

"Tyson."

"Axl," the man who had been with her the night before replied. Michelle’s memory of him began to crystallize, but it was still clouded by the haze of her recollections.

At that moment, her focus shifted from introductions to the sudden awareness of the marks on her neck. Her hands flew to the area, and she tried to piece together what had happened after their intense kissing session. The realization that the previous night had been more real than she had initially thought hit her with an unsettling force. 

She scanned the cafeteria discreetly, hoping to spot the person in question, but he was nowhere to be seen. The tension in her chest tightened.

"Looking for someone?" Four’s voice cut through her thoughts, causing her to jump. The table fell silent, and Michelle’s gaze met his. The intensity in his ocean-blue eyes made her feel as though he was piercing through her defenses, seeing every hidden thought and fear.

Four knew. And he was judging her.

"Uh, I’d say that’s exactly it. Our Michelle is looking for her knight from last night," the girl’s playful comment did little to ease the tension. "Everything okay?"

Four’s penetrating stare felt like an accusation. It was as if he believed she had committed a grave mistake. "I warned you. Now it’s up to you," he said cryptically before standing and leaving the cafeteria with what Michelle assumed was Lauren.

The weight of Four’s words sank in like a crushing wave. Michelle’s heart raced. "What’s he talking about?"

Sunny’s expression shifted to one of concern as the atmosphere in the room grew dense, almost suffocating. It felt as though the air had been sucked out of the cafeteria with Four’s departure, leaving Michelle gasping for breath.

"Nothing. He was referring to nothing," Michelle said quickly, trying to mask her worry. She grabbed a serving of scrambled eggs and placed them on her plate, attempting to divert attention. "What did you want to tell me?"

Sunny’s confused and worried expression vanished almost instantly, replaced by a look of keen interest. Her eyes sparkled as she leaned forward, resting on her elbows. “Don’t you notice anyone missing here at the table?”

Michelle looked around, her gaze searching for the missing individuals, but she didn’t spot anyone out of the ordinary. When she turned back to Sunny, the latter rolled her eyes with a hint of impatience. “Tina and Max.”

Michelle glanced around again, realizing with a start that Tina and Max were indeed absent. They weren’t sitting at any of the nearby tables, nor did she recall seeing them in the dorms.

“Are they the ones from last night?” Axl asked, nodding toward Sunny. Sunny confirmed with a nod.

But Michelle’s focus was abruptly shifted when the cafeteria fell silent. The sound of boots confidently marching across the room cut through the low hum of conversation, drawing everyone’s attention.

She turned to see Eric walking in, and what she saw made her breath catch in her throat. Eric Coulter was sporting a black eye and a split lip; his usually neat blonde hair was now disheveled, and dark circles marked his eyes. The sight of him was more intimidating than usual, not in the way that stirred strange sensations within her but in a way that demanded respect and silence.

He exuded a deadly aura.

“Yes, exactly them. Michelle, hey!” Sunny snapped her fingers in front of Michelle’s face, pulling her out of her stunned silence. “That was a spoiler, by the way.”

“What happened?” Michelle asked in a whisper, trying to stay discreet amid the tension in the cafeteria.

“Last night, after you left, your companion started a fight with one of the guys because, apparently, the guy looked at him the wrong way,” Tyson explained, his tone light but serious.

Axl chuckled. “He was completely hammered. You could smell the alcohol on him from a mile away.”

“So basically, after Eric came back, he and Four tried to break up the fight because things were getting out of hand. But Max? Max wasn’t satisfied with just getting beaten up; he lunged at Eric when Eric tried to pull him away, and that led to a full-blown fight between the two,” Sunny continued, her voice low.

“Max didn’t stand a chance. He was knocked out within the first minute, and if it hadn’t been for Eric’s friends holding him back, Max would’ve ended up dead on the Pit floor,” Sunny said, casting a quick glance at Bowie, who still looked troubled. “They ended up kicking Max out of the faction, making him factionless. Tina tried to stay behind, begging the leaders to let him stay, but it was no use.”

“It was entertaining, I’ll admit,” Axl said with a smirk. “But I’ve got to head out. Inspections in twenty minutes.” He gave Tyson a friendly pat on the shoulder and left, his seat now vacant.

Sunny took the opportunity to move closer to Michelle, sliding into the seat Axl had vacated. She rested her head on Michelle’s shoulder, her demeanor a mix of comfort and curiosity.

“So now they’re both factionless,” Tyson said, his gaze shifting from Eric to the two girls. “One thing I’ve learned since I’ve been here, long before Eric arrived, is that you shouldn’t get involved with him.”

Michelle fiddled with her food, her thoughts swirling. She felt a mixture of confusion and curiosity. “I don’t like him.”

“Nobody likes Eric, sweetheart,” Tyson quipped with a hint of humor.

“But you’re his friend,” Michelle said abruptly, her tone carrying an edge of seriousness.

Tyson seemed to consider her words for a moment before responding with a gentle smile. “Nobody is friends with Eric. We tolerate each other. He’s useful to have around and not stupid—he’s just hotheaded and a lot worse in many ways. His company can be pleasant, but no one considers him a true friend,” he said, glancing over at Eric. “No one has any real relationships with him. Not even Mia. That girl has been chasing after him since she arrived. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day we find her at the bottom of the chasm.”

Michelle followed Tyson’s gaze, observing Eric with a new sense of wariness. The faint bruises on his face only added to his intimidating presence.

“I don’t understand,” Sunny said, shaking her head as she looked at Tyson. “How does he have all this power? Why?”

Tyson sighed, a subtle hint of something deeper in his expression. “Eric is a soldier, and soldiers are liked by those in power,” he said, his words carrying a weight that Michelle and Sunny couldn’t fully grasp.

The days drifted by, leading up to the second phase of initiation, a module Four had warned would be the toughest. Michelle found herself lost in thought, unable to escape the disquiet that had settled over her.

No matter where she was—whether clutching a photograph of Anne in her dorm, standing on the faction's rooftop in the rain, or working out in the gym at night—Eric's absence was a constant weight on her mind. He hadn’t so much as glanced her way since that night, and perhaps that was for the best. Four and Tyson were right: Eric was dangerous. His cruel game of intimidation and the near-violent incident with Max had shown her just how perilous his influence could be.

Eric’s demeanor had shifted noticeably. The mocking smirks and casual arrogance had faded, replaced by a rigid, authoritarian presence. As the start of the second module approached, he seemed increasingly distant, spending less time within the faction.

Despite her efforts to avoid him, Michelle couldn’t help but search for Eric whenever she had the chance. Sunny, ever observant, noticed Michelle’s growing preoccupation.

One evening, as Michelle prepared to head to the gym, Sunny stopped her at the door.

“Would you tell me if something was bothering you?” Sunny’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. Michelle glanced at her, her concern evident, and nodded, pretending not to notice the full weight of Sunny’s gaze.

The corridors had grown colder with the onset of winter, and Michelle wrapped her jacket tighter around herself. It had been a while since she’d had a moment alone, a chance to lose herself in silence.

Upon reaching the gym doors, Michelle heard the muffled sounds of someone training. Peering inside, she saw Lauren, engrossed in her workout on one of the punching bags. Lauren’s expression hardened as she caught sight of Michelle, and without a word, she turned her back, focusing on a bag on the far side of the room. It was evident that the once-cordial relationship between them had soured.

Confused and feeling uncertain, Michelle decided to focus on her own workout, leaving Lauren to her space. But as Michelle pounded the bag, she felt Lauren’s gaze fixed on her back. The distraction was unwelcome, particularly with the stress of the upcoming initiation, Tyson’s warnings, and Eric’s unsettling behavior weighing heavily on her.

After a few minutes, Lauren cleared her throat. “I know Four warned you, but please be careful with Eric. He’s not someone you want to get involved with.”

Michelle stopped abruptly and turned to face Lauren, her confusion evident. “What do you mean?”

Lauren sighed, rubbing her face in frustration. “Four saw you the other night when Eric was following you. He decided to investigate and told me about it. I just want you to be aware.”

“It was a mistake,” Michelle interjected, her voice firm as she tried to deflect the concern.

“What do you mean?” Lauren asked, her tone a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Michelle hesitated, then admitted, “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just wanted to understand him better. It’s not like I wanted to get involved with Eric.”

Lauren’s expression softened, though worry remained. “Understanding him isn’t worth risking yourself. Eric’s reputation isn’t just because he’s a jerk or a bully. There’s something darker, more dangerous about him.”

Michelle sighed as she slipped on her jacket, acknowledging that her plans for a workout had been derailed. Instead, she headed towards the roof, where she could be alone with her thoughts. The idea of explaining her actions to Lauren felt too personal, too intimate. She wasn’t ready to share the details of what had happened, even though Lauren’s support was unwavering.

Despite her intent to be alone, Lauren was not easily deterred. She grabbed her belongings and followed Michelle up to the rooftop. "If you know, why did you do it?" Lauren’s voice carried a mixture of concern and frustration.

Michelle hesitated, struggling with her thoughts. Eric had made the first move, but if she were honest, the alcohol had played its part, blurring her judgment and amplifying the electric charge between them. But acknowledging that felt like making excuses.

When Michelle remained silent, Lauren grabbed her wrist, only to have Michelle shrug her off. “Michelle… it’s for your own good.”

“I already said it was a mistake,” Michelle retorted, her voice sharp as she leaned against the rooftop railing. “It won’t happen again.”

Lauren’s expression softened, and she stepped back slightly but remained nearby. “I hope so. You have potential; it would be a shame to waste it on someone like him.” They fell into a contemplative silence, gazing out at the city and the distant outlines of the other factions, savoring the quiet of the night.

“Ready for tomorrow?” Lauren’s question cut through the silence, sending a shiver down Michelle’s spine. The mention of the second phase of initiation triggered a wave of déjà vu. Michelle turned to Lauren with a pained expression.

“For— for the second phase?” Lauren asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty at Michelle’s reaction.

Michelle swallowed hard, her eyes brimming with tears as the weight of her emotions hit her. She took deep breaths, trying to steady herself before responding.

“No, how could I be?” The words felt heavy, leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. The thought of her last moments with her best friend brought a pang to her heart. She wondered about Anne—where she was now, how she was faring, and what she was doing.

Michelle and Lauren spent the remainder of the night on the rooftop, waiting in silence for the first light of dawn. The conversations and warnings from Four, Lauren, and Tyson felt like pieces of a larger puzzle that Michelle struggled to piece together. She knew she had to stay clear of Eric, despite the dangerous allure he presented. It was clear that her safety was at stake, and she needed to tread carefully.

As dawn broke, all the initiates were summoned to a sterile room. The space was stark and unwelcoming, with chairs lined up against the walls, each one designated for an initiate. Two doors stood at the far end of the room, marking the beginning of what promised to be a grueling day. Michelle took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever lay ahead, knowing that the challenges of the second phase were about to unfold.

Four entered the room after them, his authoritative presence commanding attention as the initiates settled into their seats. “Welcome to the second module, the mental phase. It’s a departure from the physical trials you’ve faced so far, and it will test you in ways you don’t expect. This is the most exhausting part of the initiation, even though it’s not physical.”

He moved to stand in front of one of the two doors. “We have divided you into two groups to expedite the process.”

At that moment, the door across the room swung open to reveal Eric. “You will confront your deepest fears in the shortest time possible. You will be scored as in the first module, and those who fall below the red line will be eliminated.”

Eric’s gaze swept over the room with an intimidating intensity. “Only a few of you will make it into the faction. Another ten will be excluded. There is no room for error.”

Four positioned himself in front of the remaining door, pulling out two slips of paper from his pocket. He handed one to Eric, who read it aloud.

“Sunny.”

“Marcus,” Eric followed, calling out a boy Michelle recognized as one of the Dauntless-born, who entered the room after the blonde.

An uneasy silence settled over the room as the initiates awaited their turns. Some paced nervously, while others closed their eyes, trying to find calm. Michelle found herself caught between these two reactions, struggling to mask her own anxiety. She glanced at the clock on the wall, willing time to move faster.

Sunny emerged less than ten minutes later, her face etched with a look of near terror. Michelle started to approach her friend, but Sunny walked past her as if she were invisible, exiting the room without a word.

“Angela,” Four called out next.

Michelle’s concern for Sunny deepened, wondering what could have caused her friend to look so haunted. She felt a strong urge to follow her but decided against it, choosing instead to wait for her own turn and to find Sunny later.

After another fifteen minutes, the second door opened, revealing Marcus, who was assisted out by two Dauntless members. He looked as if he had seen a ghost—pale as porcelain, cheeks wet with tears, eyes red and vacant, and hands trembling uncontrollably.

“Connor,” Four called.

The boy rose with encouragement from his friends, and Michelle leaned her head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling to calm her nerves.

As time dragged on, Michelle pondered what her own fears might be, how she would confront them, and what she might see. The constant opening and closing of the doors, along with the shifting emotions of the initiates, did little to ease her anxiety.

By now, only a few initiates remained in the room, including Michelle—just one other girl and the remaining five boys, none of whom she knew well.

This time, both doors opened simultaneously, allowing the last two initiates to exit, visibly shaken. Michelle strangely hoped to be called next to end the torturous wait, but her name was not called again.

Two hours had passed since she last moved, her muscles aching from sitting in the hard wooden chair. Michelle glanced at the clock and, within five minutes, saw the door to Eric’s room open once more. This time, the boy who entered did not come out. Michelle looked up as Eric, still focused on the slip of paper in his hand, called her name.

“Michelle.”

Before she could react, he turned back into the room.

With great caution, Michelle stood up and entered the room with slow, deliberate steps, closing the door behind her. The room was stark and clinical, its white walls reminiscent of a laboratory. At the center was an armchair with the same apparatus she had seen during the Aptitude Test.

Eric was hunched over a computer next to the chair. The tension between them was palpable, a heavy silence hanging in the air. Michelle bit the inside of her cheek and moved forward, reluctantly taking a seat in the uncomfortable chair, ready to endure whatever came next.

The silence, usually something Michelle cherished, felt oppressive and unnerving now. She wished for any sound, even an insult, to break the suffocating quiet.

“It’s just like the Aptitude Test,” Eric said coldly, his fingers cold as they connected the wires to her temples, sending a series of small electric shocks through her skin.

He picked up a syringe from the table, giving it a slight shake. “Instead of drinking, we’ll inject the serum this time.” He grasped her wrist to steady her arm, and Michelle had to look away as the needle pierced her skin.

“Fear of needles? Pathetic,” he murmured as he withdrew the needle.

The serum felt cold, almost icy, and left a numbing sensation in her arm. But that feeling quickly faded as Michelle’s vision blurred, her consciousness slipping away under the serum’s effects.

When she opened her eyes again, her heart skipped a beat. She was disoriented, unsure of where she was. Struggling to stand, her legs trembled beneath her.

The room around her was cloaked in darkness so complete that she could barely make out her surroundings. A rustling sound behind her made her jump, and she let out a small scream. Instinctively, she moved backward and bumped into what she assumed was a desk.

Michelle tried to steady her breathing, her heart pounding with fear. The darkness seemed alive, and another noise from a corner of the room made her hyperventilate. There was something, or someone, with her in the room.

Desperate, she began to search the desk, her hands scrambling over every surface until she felt something round and short. She fumbled for a switch, and the flashlight flickered on weakly.

The light revealed an office-like setting, but its weak beam was almost useless. Michelle tried to adjust the switch, but it was no use. “Damn it!” she shouted in frustration.

Stepping out of the office, she found herself in a long, dark corridor. Her heart raced, each echo of her footsteps amplified in the oppressive silence. The corridor stretched out endlessly, and she could feel the weight of her isolation pressing down on her.

She had to move forward, driven by a mix of fear and determination. Each step felt heavier than the last, her anxiety mounting as she tried to make sense of her surroundings and figure out what awaited her next.

Taking a step forward, Michelle heard the rustling noise from behind her again. When she turned around, the sound was still there, more insistent. Panic surged through her, and she began to run down the corridor, the flashlight’s beam dimming with each passing moment.

Tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes as she spotted a control panel at the end of the corridor. Desperate to reach it, she sprinted faster, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The rustling noise grew louder, more ominous, as the light from her flashlight flickered and then went out, leaving her in suffocating darkness.

Each footfall felt like a mile as she ran, the control panel seeming to retreat with every step she took. Her heart raced, pounding in her ears, drowning out everything else.

In the pitch black, she extended her hand, feeling her way along the wall. She braced herself for a collision but kept reaching forward, fingers trembling as they searched for the control panel. Just as she felt something brush against her shoulder, the lights flared on, momentarily blinding her.

Michelle collapsed to the floor, curling up into a tight ball, trying to find solace in the fetal position. The harsh, bright lights made her eyes water as she clung to the ground, overwhelmed by the ordeal.

A hand suddenly grabbed her arm, jolting her from her disorientation. She flinched, her body tensing as she was dragged across the cold tile floor. The hand was firm yet gentle, guiding her away from the control panel and the nightmarish rustling sound that still echoed faintly in her mind.

She struggled against the grip, but when she looked up to see her attacker, she was surprised to see the silhouette of her mother. “Mom?”

The woman glanced briefly at her before continuing through what Michelle recognized as the central headquarters of the Candids. Strangely, the place was deserted.

When they reached a door, her mother shoved her inside, making her fall to the ground in front of a group of people. As Michelle looked up to see who they were, she only recognized a few of her mother’s colleagues.

Eric, watching the scene unfold on the screen that showed what was happening inside Michelle's mind, was immediately intrigued to see Jeanine Matthews among the people.

He glanced at Michelle in the chair before turning his attention back to the screen, curious to know if this was some sort of memory and whether it was connected to why Jeanine seemed so interested in her.

A man with red hair, dressed in a suit and tie, nodded to the woman behind him. She took a seat next to a woman Michelle recognized as Jeanine Matthews.

Michelle stood up, carefully adjusting her clothes and surveying the people before her.

“Ellie Black, don’t worry,” the man said, offering her a smile as she approached. “We just need you to answer a few questions for us, okay?”

Her mother glared at her for not responding, and Jeanine stepped in, noticing the young girl’s defensiveness. “Calm down, we don’t want to hurt you. We just need you to tell us everything you know about your father.”

If Eric was intrigued before, now he was thoroughly confused. The way they were speaking to Michelle seemed almost condescending, as if addressing a small child. A sudden realization struck him—this was indeed a memory, likely a traumatic one. The woman he assumed was her mother was able to drag her around effortlessly because, in this memory, Michelle was very young.

Michelle’s demeanor—hugging herself and looking distrustfully at the strangers—reinforced the idea. Even Jeanine appeared different, seeming younger.

“Do you know anything about his disappearance, Ellie?” asked the red-haired man.

Michelle remained silent.

“Answer!” her mother hissed, her face twisted in anger.

Jeanine approached her, gently stroking Michelle’s face with a tender expression. “If you tell us what you know, we might be able to find him. Bring him back to you,” the red-haired man cleared his throat slightly, and Jeanine silenced him with a sharp look. “Please be a good girl, Ellie.”

Michelle’s eyes welled with tears, but she remained silent, not even nodding. Jeanine’s smile faltered, and she stepped back, signaling the two men who moved in to restrain Michelle by her arms.

“No! No! Mom!” Michelle cried out as a third man retrieved a long syringe from a briefcase and injected the transparent liquid into her neck while she struggled desperately.

The onlookers watched impassively, as if waiting for something. Michelle’s discomfort quickly escalated into pain, causing her to sob uncontrollably.

“Another dose,” ordered the red-haired man.

“No... no,” Michelle pleaded through her sobs, but the third man prepared another syringe.

Eric watched as Michelle writhed in pain, restrained by the two men. He was puzzled by the unfolding scene, trying to understand what her fear could be until his gaze fell upon the syringe on the table beside him.

As Michelle’s cries grew more desperate, Eric could see that this wasn’t just a fear simulation—it was a vivid replay of a traumatic memory. He observed her face twisted in anguish, her body trembling uncontrollably as the second dose of the mysterious liquid was administered. The entire scene seemed to revolve around a deep, unresolved fear from her past, one that was being painfully relived.

Eric’s attention shifted back to the screen, trying to discern the details of Michelle’s memory. The sterile office environment, the authoritative figures, and her mother’s plea—all pointed to a significant and distressing event in her childhood. He noted how Michelle’s entire demeanor, her frantic movements, and her pleas were indicative of a child in intense fear.

The red-haired man, standing with an air of cold authority, spoke up again. “Ellie, if you don’t cooperate, this will only get worse. You know how this works.”

Michelle’s body was trembling violently, her tears flowing freely. Her mother’s expression was a mix of frustration and resignation. Jeanine Matthews, observing from a distance, seemed to hold an air of detached concern, as if this was a necessary, albeit uncomfortable, part of a broader plan.

Eric’s thoughts raced. The injections, the coercive techniques, the specific mention of her father’s disappearance—everything was piecing together into a disturbing picture. It was clear that Michelle was reliving a moment of profound fear and helplessness, a memory tied to her father’s unexplained disappearance.

As Michelle’s screams of agony grew softer, a determined look began to form on her tear-streaked face. With a painful effort, she managed to stop her sobbing, focusing all her energy on resisting the injections and the overwhelming fear. Her body shook with the effort, but her eyes were now filled with a steely resolve.

With a sudden burst of strength, Michelle broke free from one of the guards holding her. She staggered away, her legs weak but her willpower fierce. Her mother’s face, once stern and commanding, now reflected confusion and concern. The red-haired man’s eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised by Michelle’s unexpected resistance.

The room’s atmosphere shifted, the oppressive fear momentarily giving way to a glimmer of hope. Michelle’s focus sharpened, and despite the pain from the injections, she managed to grab hold of a nearby object—a metal lamp left on a desk. Using it as an improvised weapon, she swung it at the nearest guard.

The impact wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to create a momentary distraction. The guard staggered back, giving Michelle a precious opportunity to make a break for it. She darted towards the door, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The dimly lit room was now a blur of shadows and uncertainty, but Michelle’s determination guided her steps.

Michelle jolted upright from the chair, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she collapsed into the corner of the room. Eric, initially taken aback by her sudden movement, quickly refocused on the computer, entering the simulation data with a practiced efficiency.

Without turning his gaze, he spoke, his tone carrying a hint of detached admiration. “You took longer than expected, but you’ve set a new record.”

Michelle finally looked up, her eyes meeting Eric’s. What he saw in her gaze shocked him—an icy coldness he had never seen before. It was not the usual apathy he had come to expect from her, but something far more chilling. The intensity in her eyes reminded him of that night, the night when the stakes had been so high.

For a moment, Eric felt a wave of unease wash over him, even tho he masked it. The coldness in Michelle's eyes seemed to strip away any pretense of normalcy, revealing an undercurrent of something darker. The silence between them stretched, heavy with unspoken understanding.

Eric’s eyes flickered briefly over the data on his screen before he turned his full attention back to her. “You’ve done well,” he said, but his voice lacked warmth. “Now, let’s see how you handle the aftermath.”

Michelle, still reeling from the intensity of her simulation struggled to compose herself. The experience had been more than just a test; it had uncovered fears and memories she had long tried to suppress. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart and regain control.

Eric’s eyes remained fixed on her, his expression unreadable. There was a tension in the room, a silent acknowledgment of the personal and emotional boundaries that had been crossed. Despite his coldness, Michelle sensed a faint trace of something else—curiosity, perhaps, or a reluctant respect for her perseverance.

Michelle rose slowly, her movements stiff and strained. She left the room without uttering a single word, her silence heavy with unresolved emotions. Eric watched her go, a deep conflict stirring within him. He clenched his fists, the weight of what he had just witnessed pressing down on him.

After a moment, Eric stood up, determination set in his features. He left the room swiftly, his mind racing as he made his way to contact Jeanine Matthews.

Knowledge pt.2

check the other parts here!

Summary:

The story begins the same for everyone, on the day of the ceremony, one of the most important for all the kids who take part in it every year, and Michelle will not miss the opportunity to leave behind a faction that she did not feel belonged to her.

On her journey, however, she will encounter someone who will make her initiation feel like hell.

Pairing: Eric Coulter x reader

Word count: 8.8k

It was strange to wake up knowing that your life would change drastically in a few hours. Ellie felt a sense of emptiness as she stared at the ceiling, contemplating whether the Dauntless were the right faction for her.

She was told to trust the Test, that it would make the choice easier, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Dauntless wasn't the right place for her. She saw them every day at school and in the city, running, climbing buildings fearlessly, and imagining herself among them seemed impossible.

With great slowness, she got up, observing her room for the last time. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she looked at the place where she had spent her childhood, where she spent hours playing with Anne and her father.

Her father.

What would he think of her result? Would he be pleased or outraged by the fact that his only daughter wouldn't carry on his dynasty in Candor?

She grabbed clothes similar to yesterday's from the wardrobe, not thinking that wearing a skirt would be a wise choice if she chose Dauntless. She tied her hair into a tight bun and noticing that she was early, she took the opportunity to spend some time at home.

She would leave everything behind, the practically sterile rooms, empty, devoid of life. In the entire house, only her room seemed lived in, with some drawings on the walls and photos attached here and there.

Looking at a small photo of her and Anne, she wondered whether to take it with her or not, to have a memory of her when they wouldn't see each other anymore. She sighed, thinking about the events of the previous day, about Anne's hostility towards her for no reason.

What had happened? What had triggered such a reaction in Anne?

Her best friend, the kindest and gentlest girl she had ever known.

She sniffled, feeling tears welling up in her eyes, and decided that maybe it was time to go, to leave behind what she hadn't considered home for years. She should be happy to start a new life, to live her dream of being free, but the unknown scared her; she didn't know what she was about to face.

Leaving the house, she grabbed one of their photos, one of the most recent ones, and tucked it into her pocket, hoping to keep it throughout the initiation. It was the only thing she truly cared about having, not even her sketchbook with her drawings was as important.

The journey to the hall where the Choosing Ceremony would take place was relatively close to her home. She didn't bother to rush to be among the first, knowing that, like every year, there would be a few minutes of delay.

She tried to enjoy the last moments in the neighborhood where she lived, the area of the city where the Candor spent most of their lives. As boring as it might seem with all those white skyscrapers, she didn't mind; the Candor were minimalists, and it was one of the few things Ellie appreciated about them.

It was home after all, but it wasn't the right home for her.

Unconsciously, she looked around for Anne, but the girl was nowhere to be seen; most likely, she was already at the Choosing Ceremony with her parents.

She envied her from that perspective, having a nice family that always supported her in everything she did. They didn't care if Anne didn't always tell the truth; they didn't mind if she didn't follow in their footsteps, and least of all, they allowed her the freedom to discover herself.

On the contrary, Ellie felt like a failure despite being one of the best in her class, even outperforming the Erudite students who attended the same lessons. But for her mother, it was never enough; she didn't study enough, didn't talk enough, wasn't honest enough.

She couldn't remember if her mother had always been like this or if she had changed after her husband's disappearance, but deep down, she wondered if it was her fault, if she had been too difficult as a child when she was young.

The day was better compared to yesterday; the sun wasn't too hot, and a gentle breeze cooled her face. If Anne were there with her, she would have joked about how she looked like a ghost, her pale skin matching her white jacket.

From a distance, she began to see the hall where the ceremony would take place, and she felt a lump form in her throat, the anxiety of making the wrong choice. What if Dauntless wasn't the right choice for her? She couldn't go back; she would have to become factionless.

Groups of people arrived slowly, families and friends joking outside the hall as they enjoyed their last moments together. Ellie looked at the people beside her, wondering how many of her peers would leave their original faction to start a new life like her.

A loud noise caught her attention, and turning around, she saw the Dauntless train speeding along the railway. One by one, they began jumping off the cars, miraculously landing on their feet and continuing to run.

It was a mass of black and red with an added splash of color due to the unusual hair that many of the younger ones sported. She wondered if, after the initiation, she would become like them too.

She shook her head at the idea because she would never be one of them. She would never go so far as to get strange hairstyles with odd colors, wear overly revealing shirts, or ripped pants.

If she were to join them and pass the initiation, could she truly become one of them?

What caught her attention, however, were some of their tattoos. From simple designs to intricate masterpieces, they covered much of their skin.

That was what truly fascinated Ellie about their way of life—the freedom to express themselves in any way imaginable.

Ellie lingered outside for a while longer, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her face. She was afraid she wouldn't be brave enough to join the Dauntless.

When she saw people hurrying to enter, she followed, her heart pounding with fear and excitement at finally realizing her dream. She was scared, filled with insecurities, but as she climbed the stairs and saw the five bowls representing the different factions, her thought became clear.

She had five options, but only one choice.

The hall was filled with colors divided into five rows, and Ellie took her place among the Candor, scanning the crowd for Anne. She found her shortly after, seated between her mother and father, rigid in her chair; she was only a few rows ahead of Ellie, yet at the same time, she seemed so distant, unreachable.

She wanted to take advantage of the remaining minutes to go to her, bid her a final farewell, but someone took a seat on both sides of her, trapping her.

The hall fell silent as Jeanine Matthews, the leader of the Erudite faction, stepped onto the pedestal to begin her speech about the Choosing Ceremony.

Every year, a leader from a different faction would present, but Ellie, like others, noticed how over the years Jeanine became increasingly present at these events, like a vulture on a carcass.

Ellie had to admit she respected the woman's ambition, but she found her presence a bit too insistent.

"The faction system is a living organism composed of cells, all of you. And the only way it can survive and thrive is for each of you to claim your rightful place. The future belongs to those who know where they belong."

Her voice echoed in the silent hall, the sound of her heels as she moved in front of the bowls creating a hypnotic rhythm. Her custom-tailored blue attire gave her a distinguished, important look as she held a tablet in her hand.

"Now it's your turn, your chance to choose your future. Don't be afraid, but remember one important thing: faction before blood," the last phrase was echoed by the entire room, by the teenagers and their parents.

It was a concept many didn't agree with, but still respected. Leaving everything behind was difficult; many couldn't bear the distance. However, to allow their city to function effectively, it was the only way.

Ellie agreed, finding that the most important thing to do after changing factions was to rid themselves of the memories that anchored them to their original faction. Perhaps her perception of things was influenced by the way she herself had lived her childhood, alone, without anyone on her side.

Except for Anne.

She squeezed the photo she held in her pocket between her fingers for some comfort. The more Jeanine spoke, the slower time seemed to pass for her, as if every word that came out of her mouth was drawn out as much as possible to increase the anticipation.

But hers was just a perception; a few seconds later, they began calling out the names of the teenagers. One by one, they stepped forward to choose their future.

The list was in alphabetical order, so it wouldn't be long before her turn came, but in the meantime, she watched the kids she had grown up with, gone to school with, change their destiny.

Her fingertips tingled with excitement, the realization of truly being there hitting her all at once. It was her moment, her chance to finally have a good life.

"Maxim Anderson," a boy from the Abnegation section stood up, ran his hand through his curly red hair, and adjusted his glasses. He was short, but the way he walked exuded authority and confidence.

He took the dagger that Marcus Eaton, representing the government within the city, offered. Maxim took it with confidence, making a cut perhaps deeper than necessary on the palm of his hand, then clasped his hand over the bowl containing the burning coals.

Dauntless.

The boys from the Dauntless faction cheered, and Maxim raised his arms in the air, joining in their jubilation. He was welcomed with warm hugs and pats on the back, taking a seat in the front row where a Dauntless boy offered him a place.

"Chloe Andrew."

Ellie's head snapped towards the row in front of her, where Chloe Andrew, one of the most insolent girls in her faction, descended the stairs with confident steps until she reached the pedestals where the five bowls were placed.

Surprisingly, she also chose Dauntless, leaving behind a shattered family. Ellie watched her own family, seated in front of her, despairing; her little sister tried to hold back tears while her mother stroked her head.

Her father, on the other hand, remained motionless, a stoic expression as he observed his daughter from afar. Ex daughter now.

Ellie's attention returned once again to Anne, who was still nervously biting her cuticles, anxiety consuming her from within.

Several more names were called, and many of them remained loyal to their original faction, returning to their families who embraced them happily. Ellie felt a pang of jealousy watching the parents hold their children close, kissing them, knowing they could grow old with them.

"Anne Bishop." Anne's name was called, and the trembling girl made her way to stand in front of the five bowls. She took the dagger with shaking hands and very slowly made a small cut to draw blood, but she remained still, contemplating her choice.

Ellie tried to get a better view of the scene, to understand what Anne was undecided about, but she was too far away to see clearly; it took her much longer than the other kids, and she could hear the whispers of the confused people around her. She was confused too, what was Anne waiting for?

Then, all of a sudden, Anne reached out and let drops of blood fall into the bowl containing the soil.

"Amity!" declared Marcus Eaton, smiling at the crowd, but Ellie's attention was fixed on her best friend, on how her expression was anything but happy, on how she tried to hide her tears while keeping her gaze low.

"Ellie Black."

It took her a second to realize that her name had been called, rising with great calm as if at any moment the ground would give way beneath her. She felt all eyes on her as she descended one step at a time, placing one foot cautiously in front of the other.

Was it really her moment?

She nodded politely to Jeanine Matthews, who returned it with a polite smile, watching her closely as she went to retrieve the dagger from Marcus Eaton.

Jeanine was curious; she knew Ellie's father, and over the years, she also got to know her mother. They were extraordinary people, in her opinion, wasted in Candor. They had minds worth millions of dollars, the kind of people who could change your life.

Both born Erudite, they had chosen to change factions at the age of sixteen. Jeanine had heard about Ellie Black, a girl in Candor who kept to herself too much and always seemed to get into trouble.

Ellie took the dagger Marcus offered, gripping the handle between her fingers. She observed it, pressing it against the palm of her hand, but didn't cut herself. She remembered her simulation from the day before.

What would have happened if she had plunged the blade into her palm? Would it have hurt?

To her, it felt like she stood in front of the bowls with the dagger in her hand for hours, but she knew only a few seconds had passed. She positioned herself in front of the Dauntless bowl and with a swift motion, she cut her palm, letting the blood drip onto the burning coals.

"Dauntless!" Marcus shouted, causing the crowd of Dauntless to erupt once again in cheers, inviting her to join them.

She felt like she was inside a bubble, the cheers of her new faction muffled and her vision blurred. She had done it, she had changed her life.

Instinctively, she glanced towards the Amity faction and locked eyes with Anne, who was already looking at her. Anne's eyes were now red, the tears gone.

Ellie tentatively smiled at her, and to her great surprise, Anne responded with a smile and a thumbs-up, happy for her. They were separated forever now, but their memories would be cherished in their hearts.

She paid little attention to the kids who came after her, only a few caught her eye, like Patrick Sainz and Connor Kennedy, two boys from her own faction. Chloe's best friends.

She had hoped to have no connection with her old faction, but apparently, she would have to settle for living with their breath on her neck. She felt their glances from time to time, judging her as they always had.

Ellie pressed her thumb against the cut on her palm, which sent a rather pleasant shock through her body, distracting her from both her former and new companions at the same time.

Why? Couldn't they mind their own damn business elsewhere?

The rest of the Ceremony passed quickly, Ellie staring into the void in front of her, slightly shaken by what had just happened. She couldn't believe she had managed to change factions, to leave behind that place that wasn't so much a home; it was a dream come true.

She counted ten transfers; most of them came from Erudite, but an equal number of Dauntless also joined other factions, although the quantity was minimal compared to the other factions.

Many of the kids remained in Dauntless, returning to their seats with enthusiasm, greeted with hugs and cheers. It was like a big family; they all seemed so warm.

Soon the end of the Ceremony arrived, and all the factions began to rise and head towards the exit, but the Dauntless were different from all the others. They didn't take the elevator but started running.

The transfers, confused, began to run after them. They ran through the entire city, and Ellie had to admit that, despite the sharp pain in her side, she felt free running amidst all those people.

She distanced herself a bit from the group of transfers, ignoring the pain and picking up her pace to reach the front of the group, but the Dauntless stopped under the scaffolding that supported the train tracks.

Soon the end of the Ceremony arrived, and all the factions began to rise and head towards the exit, but the Dauntless were different from all the others. They didn't take the elevator but started running.

The transfers, confused, began to run after them. They ran through the entire city, and Ellie had to admit that, despite the sharp pain in her side, she felt free running amidst all those people.

She distanced herself a bit from the group of transfers, ignoring the pain and picking up her pace to reach the front of the group, but the Dauntless stopped under the scaffolding that supported the train tracks.

Slowly, the Dauntless began to climb up it. Ellie stood there, mouth agape, but it didn't take her long to do the same. She had loved climbing since she was a child, and this was her moment.

With innate skill, she managed to reach the top of the railway before any other transfer, even before the Dauntless kids. At the top, she looked down at the mass of black-clad figures below her, feeling powerful, like a ruler looking down on her subjects.

It was an incredible sensation, something she had never felt before and wanted to keep experiencing.

Someone approached her from behind, giving her a pat on the shoulder, startling her as she thought someone was trying to push her off. She recoiled, moving away from the edge to see who had caused this little scare.

"Whoa, didn't mean to startle you, kid! I'm Lauren, nice to meet you," the woman extended her hand, perhaps a few years older than Ellie, with long brown hair and an eyebrow piercing. "I just wanted to congratulate you; I've never seen a transfer move that fast."

Ellie took her hand and shook it, embarrassed by how visibly she trembled from the adrenaline. It wasn't the first time she had climbed somewhere or ran until she felt sick; she had done several illegal explorations in the abandoned parts of the city.

"Thank you."

"Good luck with initiation; it's tough. Don't hesitate to ask for help if you struggle with anything, okay?"

Ellie nodded to Lauren, who smiled before heading towards the edge to help the remaining initiates climb onto the platform. It was reassuring to know they weren't as hostile as her mother had made them out to be. So far, she had only met one Dauntless, but if they were all like that, she considered herself lucky.

It was enough to see how they reacted when someone joined their faction—the shouts of joy and the compliments for choosing them showed how united they were as a faction. She liked that.

Ellie gazed at the scenery as they waited for the train. The sky was becoming overcast again, and many hoped it wouldn't start raining, making the journey to the Dauntless faction more difficult.

From a distance, the noise of the train caught the attention of most of the kids there, and they approached the tracks to wait for the train to stop and board it. However, a voice at the head of the line yelled out.

"Jump on!"

The Dauntless started running towards the end of the platform, confusing not only Ellie but also all the other initiates. "What do you mean, jump on?"

Ellie turned, noticing a short girl with tanned skin glancing between her and the train approaching at high speed. She shrugged at her, not knowing why she would know what they were supposed to do.

Both turned to look at the rest of the group, also standing still trying to figure out what to do. The train zoomed past their eyes, and Ellie took only a few seconds to understand what they meant by "jump on."

She started running towards a carriage that seemed to be less crowded and with all her might, she jumped, grabbing onto the handle protruding from the open door. It was challenging to get into the carriage; the force of the wind was too strong, and she was too weak.

Gritting her teeth, she threw herself into the carriage, trying to maintain balance to avoid falling in front of everyone. She was relieved to see that there were indeed few people inside, more children of Dauntless than others from different factions.

Ellie took a seat in a corner of the carriage, away from everyone else. One thing she feared was not making friends; she saw how everyone was already in little groups—the Dauntless kids stuck together, as did those from the same faction, leaving Ellie in her own little corner.

She remained alone throughout the journey, watching the city's ruined landscape through the window. The Dauntless faction was quite far from the center; their structures began in old buildings and sprawled underground in rooms resembling caves.

Noticing one of the empty door, she approached it, making sure to hold onto the handle tightly to avoid slipping. The air crashed against her face, disheveling her carefully tied chignon.

Ellie felt cold, the rain-filled air filling her lungs as she took a deep breath to savor the taste of freedom. She tried to look back, to see if she could spot her old home, and to her surprise, she could see the towering skyscraper where she had grown up.

Even from afar, it was imposing, and she thanked God that she had escaped from that place.

She wondered what her mother's reaction would be upon learning that her only daughter, her torment, had finally left. Would she rejoice? Would she realize she was alone in the world?

Perhaps she would finally realize that she was the problem, not Ellie.

"They're jumping!" exclaimed a boy dressed in blue, and Ellie turned again, tearing her gaze away from the city to see what was happening in front of her. But when she tried to get back into the carriage, she caught sight, out of the corner of her eye, of someone jumping off the train.

Caught off guard, she turned back abruptly, noticing how, indeed, the initiates were jumping off the moving train.

"These people are crazy."

"But there's a gap between us and the roof!"

Ellie heard the boys around her discussing the choice of jumping from a moving train; some were complaining, some were on the verge of tears, and finally, some were jumping without a second thought.

It seemed like the wisest choice—to not overthink it—otherwise, she could calculate all the things that could go wrong. She leaned slightly over the edge to check the distance to the roof; her breath caught in her throat when she saw the gap and especially the free fall of at least twenty to thirty meters if she missed the ledge.

She took a deep breath and entered the carriage to build up her momentum. Her heart was pounding as she began to run towards the exit, launching herself out of the train. She fell to the ground, and when her body touched the gravel on the roof, she was able to breathe again. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath while jumping.

She was surprised to find herself uninjured in the fall, only a few scratches and her once white clothes now not so white anymore. She pulled herself up, trying to straighten up to look somewhat presentable, loosening her now half-undone chignon.

Bodies continued to fall behind her onto the gravel, making unpleasant sounds, but Ellie headed towards the rest of the group, who seemed to be watching someone.

It didn't take her long to understand what or who they were observing—there was a man on the edge of the ledge, watching them with a stoic expression. He was intimidating just to look at, with an authoritative and threatening demeanor; his well-built physique gave the impression of someone who could break your back with two hands.

Ellie made her way through the bodies to get to the front row, or at least to see the situation more clearly.

In front of the ledge, there were several members of the Dauntless, including Lauren and a man of color who watched them with an almost annoyed expression. He observed each one of them, moving his head from side to side, pausing for a few extra seconds on the red and gray-clad individuals.

A wry smile played on his face.

They remained silent for a few minutes, the man walking on the ledge seemed to be challenging the ledge itself to throw him off. He wasn't afraid of falling; he walked on it as if it were a two-lane road.

He exuded confidence, authority, and danger.

Suddenly, he looked up to observe them. Seeing that they were all there, he stopped, crossed his arms over his chest, and began to speak.

"Listen, initiates. Don't think you're Dauntless just because you've simply jumped off a moving train, or worse, because you've chosen us," his tone matched his appearance: authoritative, cold, aggressive.

"During these months, you will have to prove yourselves worthy, continue to push your body and your fears to the limit. There's no place for weaklings."

Ellie kept her gaze on the man on the ledge even as the man in front of her began to speak. "My name is Max, I'm the representative of this faction. He is Eric," he indicated the man whom Ellie couldn't take her eyes off of, "and she is Lauren. They are two of the four leaders of this faction, including myself."

Lauren smiled at the initiates, winking at Ellie when she noticed her watching. Ellie quickly looked away, not wanting to give the impression of having favorites for any strange reason.

"Now listen to me," Eric began speaking, capturing everyone's attention, his voice rather loud. "There's no room for weaknesses here, so if you want to be part of the initiation, you have to jump."

He gestured behind him, and his statement sparked confusion among the boys standing at his feet. A smirk almost malevolent appeared on his face as he observed all those confused, frightened, and certainly hesitant boys about jumping into the void.

His expression turned serious again. "If you don't do it, you're out. The choice is yours."

"What?!" exclaimed a boy from Erudite among the crowd.

"What's down there? Water?" a Dauntless asked, and that reassured Ellie; apparently, even the children of Dauntless were unaware of how the initiation unfolded.

"Just jump and find out," Eric's tone continued to be one of mockery, as if he enjoyed seeing the fear in their eyes.

"Do you think it's a trick?" someone whispered behind her.

"No, I'm jumping."

Ellie turned to see the Abnegation boy make his way through her and another Dauntless to reach the edge, leaning a bit to try to see what was at the bottom, but he saw nothing.

She glanced back, and the girl who had spoken to her on the platform cheered for him, earning several dirty looks from the other initiates.

Maxim, if she remembered correctly, climbed onto the ledge, and the difference in height and size was almost comical; Eric was at least twenty centimeters taller and definitely twice as bulky as him.

"Yoloo!" he shouted, throwing himself off, and everyone held their breath, rushing to the edge to see if the boy had survived. "YESSS!"

His joyful scream echoed within the four walls, and some of the boys cheered, the tension slowly dissipating as they realized that indeed they wouldn't die if they jumped below.

But despite that, when it was someone else's turn, no one stepped forward. The three leaders looked at each other, each one more annoyed than the other.

"We don't have all day, initiates," Eric was even more intimidating when he had a serious expression. His eyes scanned each initiate until they stopped at Ellie. "You, jump."

Ellie didn't immediately realize he was referring to her until the Abnegation girl from before gave her a small push. She walked towards the ledge and climbed up without looking at what was below. She knew she wouldn't see anything, and that would stop her.

Most likely, Eric was about to say something, make an unpleasant comment to make her jump, but Ellie let herself fall into the void, closing her eyes. Her breath caught in her throat, and it felt like she was falling for hours, as if there was no end.

But at some point, her back came into contact with something soft that molded under her weight, causing her to bounce in the air a few times. A net.

A freaking net at the bottom of a freaking hole, seriously?

"Yeah, I thought the same thing the first time," a masculine voice distracted her from her thoughts, and she might have realized she was thinking out loud. Someone moved the net, and she rolled onto her back until she reached the edge of the net where a tall, muscular boy gave her a quick smile. "What's your name? You can choose to change it, but you can't do it later."

Michelle thought for a few seconds, looking into the eyes of the boy who had spoken to her, his intense blue eyes locking with hers.

"Michelle."

"Second to jump, Michelle!" he shouted to a group of people behind him.

Michelle, now going by the name she had chosen, descended with as much grace as possible, failing miserably due to her legs not holding her up properly. The boy quickly moved to support her and help her down the steps, making sure she didn't fall once he let go.

Her whole body was tingling, the ground seeming to have disappeared beneath her. She stood frozen in the spot where he had left her, too frightened to take a step forward for fear of falling.

To her left, Michelle saw Maxim talking to a man dressed entirely in black covered in tattoos, who definitely wasn't one of the initiates. Meanwhile, to her right, her eyes fell on a particular person.

She didn't recognize her immediately; she had their back turned to her, but something about her felt familiar. They were engaged in animated conversation with other Dauntless, and as she shook her head, her hair shifted, revealing a tattoo at the base of her neck.

Tori.

She finally recognized the tattoo, a falcon. Cute.

Michelle noticed several members of the Dauntless below observing their arrival, and she wondered why. Why would anyone waste their time watching kids fall onto a net?

"I see you made the right choice," a voice she immediately recognized spoke from behind her. Michelle turned to see Tori, a more relaxed expression on her face, almost... proud?

"Let's hope so."

"You know, I've already told you how unusual you are for a Candor, but I have to say it again because believe me, I've never seen someone so quiet," Tori remarked.

Michelle looked at her with a blank, confused expression. "Is that a compliment?"

"Mh, yeah, take it as one. Candors are usually irritating, talk too much," her tone was friendly, and despite trying to make conversation, Michelle noticed, thanks to her body language, how reserved she was.

Tori smiled gently, but kept her distance, her arms crossed over her chest.

Noticing how Michelle's silence had remained intact since she first saw her the day before, she decided to leave, apologizing and saying she had to go back to her colleagues.

Michelle returned to where the few initiates who had dared to jump were gathered. Out of twenty-two initiates, only eight had jumped so far. She decided to sit on the ground where another girl was already sitting, her hair scattered and her face flushed.

"I never want to do that again," the girl next to her said, panting. "It was horrible."

Sunny turned to Michelle, her green eyes standing out thanks to the fluorescent lights below. "I haven't introduced myself, I'm Sunny."

"Michelle."

They fell silent, and Michelle broke eye contact when she heard someone shout, followed by cursing when they touched the net. Fortunately, Sunny didn't try to insist on talking to her, enjoying the cold that the stone walls provided.

They didn't know how much time had passed, perhaps a good half hour before almost all the initiates managed to jump.

When the last initiate, Connor, jumped from the roof and joined Chloe in a corner of the room, the man who had taken the trouble to help them down from the net introduced himself.

"I'm Four. Some of you may already know me, others not. But here, in this room, you're all starting from the same point. None of you knows what the future holds, not even the children of the Dauntless."

Behind him, Max, Lauren, and the other Intrepid who had been on the roof with them descended. Lauren took her place in front of the exit, and Four nodded to her, while the other two left.

Four was about to start speaking again when another figure descended, landing rather ostentatiously on the net, drawing attention to himself. Eric climbed down from the net, whispering something into Four's ear as he passed by, causing the latter to stiffen.

Eric walked away, smiling, but it was clear that his intent was to unsettle Four, and unfortunately, he succeeded.

"Lauren will train the children of the Dauntless, while you, transfers, will be with me. Clear?" His tone of voice was sterner now.

"Clear," the Initiates replied in unison.

"Good. The children of the Dauntless can follow Lauren to their dormitories; I don't think you need a tour. As for you, follow me." Four began to walk down a narrow corridor, and the Initiates followed him. "I usually work in the control room, but for these months, I've been asked to be your trainer."

They walked in silence through dark corridors, illuminated only by occasional neon lamps; Michelle didn't realize she had someone next to her until she felt her shoulder bump against someone else's.

"Oh, sorry." When she turned, she saw the girl from earlier beside her, Sunny. She had long, almost black, brown hair, olive skin, and well-defined features.

"No worries," Michelle replied, continuing to walk, but it seemed like the new girl wanted to keep talking.

"Are you not friends with the other three Candors?" asked curiously, keeping her gaze ahead.

"No."

Sunny turned to look at her, feeling the blunt response, and decided it was best to leave her alone for the moment. But she wouldn't stop trying to talk to her. Michelle seemed like an interesting person, in her opinion.

The group abruptly stopped, and Michelle tried to figure out the reason. "This is the Pit," Four said. "You'll grow fond of it over time. It's a place where friends gather to celebrate, drink, and fight."

Four opened two doors, leaving Michelle and Sunny in awe at the sight of the Pit; it was a vast place carved into the rock, with Michelle unable to see the end of it due to its length. Along the walls, passages were carved to access different levels where various shops were located.

"I didn't think we'd descended this far," remarked Sunny beside her, and Michelle couldn't help but agree.

They had descended several meters, surely below the level where the buildings were constructed. The ceiling was made of glass panels, allowing in the little natural light available that day due to the bad weather.

One thing that surprised her was the lack of safety features on the stairs, corridors, and pretty much everything overlooking the Pit; there were no handrails to hold onto or anything to prevent someone from slipping below.

Michelle looked around, noting how different this faction was from her own. The Pit was filled with people scattered about, with shouts, conversations, and animated gestures echoing through the air.

"Later, I'll show you to your dormitories, but first, I want to take you somewhere," Four changed direction, leading them down a corridor away from the Pit.

Several whispers started among the group. Michelle tilted her head slightly to listen more closely.

"I haven't seen any adults or elderly people!"

"But did you see how the kids were running up those stairs? I was afraid they would fall!"

"I don't mind," Sunny said beside her. "It's different from what I had at home, very."

"I can say the same," Michelle whispered, confused about where they were going, where Four was taking them. She wasn't alone; everyone began to feel the temperature change and the sound of water rushing violently.

"This is the chasm," Four stopped on a metal walkway without a railing. No one followed him. "The chasm reminds us that there's a thin line between courage and idiocy, that our lives can end in a split second."

"Incredible," Sunny said, leaning slightly over, detaching herself from the railing to get a better look at the bottom of the chasm.

"Jumping from here is a stupid way to end your life; there's no way to survive. It's happened before, and it will happen again. You've been warned."

Four then turned his back on the group to cross the chasm, and the group of initiates followed him cautiously. Michelle heard someone behind her joking about jumping, and another voice admonishing them for joking about such a thing.

They walked through the corridors and returned to the Pit, but from the other side they had entered. They followed Four until they reached two doors, made of metal, were open, revealing several tables occupied by the Dauntless.

"This is the dinning hall where you'll have your meals. You're free for now. I'll come get you when you're done eating to show you the dormitories," Four said.

With that, Four left, leaving the group of initiates to themselves. Michelle looked for an empty spot and headed towards a table in the back before anyone else could take it.

She didn't realize she was being followed by Sunny; it seemed she wouldn't get rid of the girl easily, and she was grateful for it. Maybe she would manage to make a friend.

Sunny and Michelle sat facing each other at the empty table, quietly choosing what to eat. The food was placed in the center of each table, and various groups already seated were engaged in lively conversations."

They began to eat in silence until two more initiates joined them. Michelle recognized the red-haired boy, Maxim, and the girl who was with him and had spoken to her on the platform after the Choosing Ceremony.

"Pleasure, Max," the boy introduced himself before filling his plate with meat and eating as if he had been fasting for months; Michelle gave him a dirty look as she cut into her hamburger.

"Tina," the girl also introduced herself, and Sunny shook her hand, introducing herself in return.

"She's Michelle," Sunny spoke up for her, and Michelle was grateful; she didn't want to talk.

Her life had changed drastically; she found herself in a new faction with new people within hours and needed to assimilate it all. Not that she would have talked more, but that was just an excuse.

"What do you think so far? I find it pretty cool," Tina said, laughing and nudging Max, who smiled at her. "It's so strange, completely different from what we were used to!"

Her enthusiasm was palpable, and Michelle just wished she could stuff her mouth with food to shut her up; her tone of voice was irritating for how she emphasized every word.

"Yeah, I have to admit it feels weird," replied Sunny, taking off her blue jacket.

"I've never eaten meat before, it's delicious!" Max continued to devour the food in front of him like an animal.

"But that's disgusting!" Tina nudged Max, who kept eating with his mouth open. They were annoying, obscene.

Sunny looked at Michelle, confused, almost disgusted by their behavior; they mainly spoke to each other and kept a louder tone than necessary. Michelle shrugged before finishing her meal, her stomach still tight due to the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

Another person sat with them, to Michelle's right. When she glanced to see who it was, she saw the net guy, Four, grabbing a plate nearby. He remained distant, however, leaving several inches between them.

The doors of the hall opened, and silence fell among the Dauntless and initiates. Eric, recognized by Michelle, entered; the silence allowed the echo of his boots on the floor, and as he passed by the tables, many lowered their heads to their plates, trying to ignore him.

"It's scary," Tina whispered, leaning towards them without taking her eyes off the man who had taken a seat with Max, the faction leader, and other Dauntless none of them had ever seen before.

"You should be afraid of him," another voice chimed in, causing Michelle to jump in her seat. "Seems like every conversation we have starts with you getting scared, huh?"

Lauren took a seat to her left. She, too, began to eat.

"Why? Yeah, he looks badass, but does he really have all that power?" Max asked.

"He's one of the leaders, so I'd say yes," Sunny replied, rolling her eyes and resting her chin on her hand. Michelle noticed how she glanced sideways at Four, trying not to be noticed; someone had a crush.

Michelle smiled slightly at the thought, finding it amusing that not even many hours had passed, and her new friend already had her eyes on someone.

"Ah, he's one of the leaders?"

"Are you stupid? He said it when we were on the roof!" Tina's voice was quite irritating.

Lauren cleared her throat. "Be careful, he's not someone to mess with," her tone was serious, the amused expression fading as she spoke to the initiates at the table. "He's dangerous, he has a bad reputation here."

"What has he done to be so feared?" Sunny asked, curious, directing all her attention to the woman in front of her, finally averting her gaze from Four.

"He's a sadist, he enjoys seeing others suffer and uses all the power he has to his advantage," the guy replied without looking anyone in the eye, keeping his gaze fixed on his plate.

"How old is he? He seems young to be a leader."

"Age doesn't matter here," Four replied curtly, taking a sip of water from his glass. "If you're at the top of the rankings, you can become a leader."

"Well, he wasn't at the top, was he?" Lauren retorted, leaning forward on the table to observe her colleague, a smirk on her face.

"Why he's a leader then?" Sunny asked, trying to understand the situation.

"Because I turned down the position," Michelle saw Four's jaw tighten, his posture stiffening slightly. She was curious about the boy next to her; he seemed so distant while talking with them; either he didn't want to be there or the topic wasn't to his liking.

"That was a stupid choice," Michelle said, staring at him. The table fell silent, and Four paused, slowly turning to look at her with an unreadable expression on his face, as if he expected her to continue. But she didn't.

"Excuse me?" Four asked, his voice slightly sharp.

"It was a stupid choice to turn down such a position, don't you think?" Michelle repeated calmly and composedly, as if speaking to a child. Four flashed a vexed smile, caught off guard by her assertion.

He had never seen a Candor so quiet, and for a moment he wondered if it was all a joke and he had taken the clothes of another initiate, but when she spoke, he immediately understood that maybe, after all, she was indeed a Candor.

"What makes you think you can speak to me like that?" Four tried to keep a calm tone as he replied, wanting to make things clear before getting angry.

"It was an observation," Michelle replied without averting her gaze. There was something about Four that intrigued her, but she couldn't quite grasp it yet; was it his indifferent demeanor? Perhaps it was the fact that he seemed not to belong to that faction?

Why had he sat with them?

"If you want to survive in here, you better watch what you say," he finally looked away, feeling like he was having a staring contest with the initiate, and knowing that he would lose. "Behave like that with someone else, and you'll end up at the bottom of the chasm before the first module ends."

He returned to eating in silence. Michelle glanced at the younger leader sitting on the other side of the dinning hall, wondering if he was the one Four was referring to.

"I didn't believe Tori when she told me she had met a Candor with no tongue," the woman smiled at her when she turned to look at her, diverting her gaze from Eric. "But here you are. Though, I'd say you have a sharp tongue rather than no tongue. I like it."

"Don't encourage her, or you know what will happen," Four warned her.

"Oh, come on Four, I don't think she's stupid enough to pick a fight with anyone. Or is she?" Lauren looked at her, expecting a response, but Michelle remained silent.

She had to admit that despite Four being a good-looking guy, he was also quite touchy, at least that was the impression he had given her. She decided to stay quiet for the rest of the dinner, contemplating whether her way of speaking was no longer suitable after changing factions.

She had no problem speaking the truth, sharp-tongued or not, but the fact that Four took her comment so personally made her realize that maybe she should adapt to the situation.

She had to admit that the subtle threat of being thrown down the chasm sent shivers down her spine.

"Let's just say it's better not to beat around the bush with him," Lauren replied, interrupted by Eric's sudden arrival at the table.

Michelle only noticed him when Four shifted slightly due to the nudge, prompting her to look in the direction where Eric was seated. She was surprised to realize she hadn't heard him coming or seen him out of the corner of her eye.

He didn't greet anyone, neither the initiates nor Lauren or Four. He sat down as if he owned the entire place and began talking to Four, who was visibly annoyed and stiff on the bench.

"Don't you introduce me to your new buddies?" he gestured to the three guys in front of them.

"Tina, Max, Sunny, and Michelle," Four replied.

"Oh, two stiffs. We've outdone ourselves this year."

Stiff. Michelle had already heard that derogatory nickname; it was a way Abnegation members were referred to by other factions. It indicated their rigidity, their countless unnecessary rules.

"We'll see how long they last."

Four remained silent, and Michelle took the opportunity to observe the young leader. The first thing that caught her eye was the two tattoos on the sides of his neck, two black stripes peeking out from under the collar of his jacket; he had several piercings: one on his eyebrow, one on his lip, and a couple on his ears.

On the roof, she hadn't noticed a detail that made him even more intimidating; he had two icy blue eyes that accentuated his coldness.

He kept his blonde hair short on the sides and longer on top, slicked back with gel.

He was relatively good-looking, definitely different from Four. From behavior to appearance.

"What a lovely group, two stiffs, a know-it-all, and..." he leaned in to observe Michelle, scrutinizing her closely, "and... a Candor who doesn't speak. Well, Four, you've made some interesting friends."

"Eric..." Lauren intervened, receiving an amused look from the blond.

"What? I just want to chat with our friend here. So, tell me, what have you been up to lately?"

While Michelle was confused, Sunny and the others seemed even more perplexed. They observed the scene in silence, unable to understand why their leader was talking to Four as if they were old friends, when just a few minutes earlier, Four had warned them to be cautious around him.

"It's nothing special, just the usual," Four replied without looking at him.

"Mh, boring. But what can you expect? A stiff will always remain a stiff," he commented before getting up and patting Four on the shoulder.

He left the cafeteria, and Michelle let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Were you a transfert?" Sunny asked, visibly shaken. Michelle could understand why: Four didn't seem like a Dauntless at all, but rather an Abnegation.

"How do you know each other if you're not friends?" Tina asked, curious.

"We went through initiation together two years ago; he was a transfer from Erudite," Four explained.

"What does he have to say about me then?" Sunny asked, annoyed by the unpleasant comment he had made.

"Eric is Eric; don't take his words too seriously, or you'll be the first one to leave here," Lauren reassured her.

Sunny responded again, but Michelle no longer heard the conversation happening around her. She continued to gaze at the door through which the man, or rather boy, had just exited; he didn't just appear two years older than them, he seemed at least five years older.

But as Four had said, age doesn't matter.

She turned to look at the boy to her right, and after a few seconds, feeling his gaze, he turned to look at her in return. They were studying each other.

"Be careful, Michelle. Not speaking could get you into the same trouble as saying too much would," he warned.

With that, he got up, leaving Michelle and the rest of the group to finish their dinner.

He returned half an hour later when most of the Dauntless had retired to their quarters. He led them silently through the faction, navigating through several corridors until they reached a point where several corridors intersected.

From one of the adjacent corridors, Eric appeared and stood next to Four at the front of the line. Speaking wasn't forbidden, but not a word was uttered among the initiates.

The place was rather dark, which made Michelle more alert. Occasionally, a fluorescent lamp attached to the wall would intermittently illuminate the corridor, but other than that, they were engulfed in darkness.

Sunny, beside her, cursed several times, stumbling over the uneven ground. She wasn't the only one; Tina, who was behind them along with Max, stumbled once, clutching onto Michelle to prevent herself from falling.

To say that Michelle just wanted to go to sleep was an understatement; she wanted to be alone for at least a few hours.

As they continued walking, she put her hands in her pockets and gripped the photo she had been carrying until that moment. She had heard someone talk about burning all their belongings, clothes, and items they had brought with them.

But she wouldn't allow it; she would safeguard that photo until her death.

She wondered what Anne was doing at that moment, if she was okay. She wished to speak one last time before leaving with the Dauntless; she wanted to make sure there were no issues between them after the previous evening.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Eric, and only then did Michelle realize that Four was no longer with them.

"As you know, I am one of the five leaders of this faction, and since we take your initiation very seriously, I have volunteered to oversee most of your journey," Eric announced.

They had stopped in front of two doors, arranging themselves in a semi-circle to face Eric as he spoke.

"Here are some rules to follow," he paced back and forth in front of the door, making eye contact with all the initiates. "You must be in the training quarters at eight in the morning, and training will last until six in the evening. After that, you can do as you please. You'll have days off between each phase, understood?"

The initiates nodded, and Eric continued speaking. "These are your quarters. You will be trained separately from the residents but will be ranked together."

"What do you mean by ranked?" a voice from the back asked, and Michelle expected a reprimand, but Eric's expression changed to one of amusement, almost sadistic.

"You chose us; now we choose you."