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Knowledge Prologue

check out my other works 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: 475

Warnings: REALLY slow burn, angst, ncn elements, charachte death, Eric being an asshole at the start, hurt/comfort

"Are you ready for tomorrow?"

"No, how could I be?"

"Come on, Ellie, it won't be the end of the world." A slender, red-haired girl with a face dotted with freckles smiled at her, attempting to reassure her, but to no avail, as she too was gripped by anxiety. "So, it's decided." her smile slwowly fading.

Ellie, gazing at the panorama before her, watched as the city below slowly faded with the onset of night. A gentle wind blew, and she tried to shield herself from its cold by wrapping herself in the white blazer draped over her shoulders.

She shrugged, her voice a sigh. "It was decided years ago, Anne..."

Anne looked at her, tears welling up in her eyes. The looming Aptitude Test would separate them, the friendship they had forged would break irreparably.

They could have lied, said everything would be fine, but in that moment, on the rooftop of the building where they had lived for sixteen years and shared countless memories, they realized it would be one of the last times they would see each other.

The redhead approached her friend, resting her head on her shoulder, seeking comfort. Ellie embraced her, allowing a few tears to escape, silently reliving all the moments they had shared together.

But in the end, they had always known. They had become inseparable for a reason, both excluded from the faction that was supposed to be their home, too different from all the other kids dressed in black and white like them, yet at the same time too different from each other to choose the same faction.

Anne was, she was good.

Ellie watched her as she tried to suppress her sobs, hiding within her arms. Her heart was made of gold, rare in its kind. Always ready to help others, hesitant to speak anything but the truth knowing it could hurt someone.

However, the Candor were not pleased with all this caring nature of hers. They were not pleased even with Ellie's silence, especially with her penchant for getting into trouble.

Her mother considered her a disgrace to their family. Ellie's antics tarnished the name her father had built through years of hard work before disappearing, presumably killed by the outcasts, those without a faction.

It wasn't a secret that her mother was more excited for Ellie's Aptitude Test day than Ellie herself. She didn't hide the fact that if Ellie left their faction, she would do everyone a favor.

"I'll miss you," Anne managed to say as she wiped away her tears, her eyes now red and slightly swollen.

Ellie smiled faintly but said nothing, returning her gaze to the landscape before them; the city was fully illuminated now that the sun had completely set, creating a breathtaking view.

"I should go, or they'll wonder where I am. Goodbye, Ellie."

"Goodbye, Anne."

Knowledge pt.1

check out 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: 3.3k

"Wake up, or you'll be late," a woman with short bobbed hair entered Ellie's room, opening the blinds to let in the morning rays. She stood, hands on hips, wearing a displeased expression. "What were you up to last night? I heard you come back late, too late."

"I was with Anne," Ellie stretched, trying to awaken her still-sleepy muscles.

"Always up to something, you two," the woman continued to complain as she left Ellie's room, closing the door behind her and yelling for Ellie to get ready for the Test.

"Good morning to you too, Mom," Ellie thought as she rose to begin dressing, opting for a simple white suit with a black turtleneck to wear underneath.

She took a quick shower to fully wake up and paused to look at herself in the mirror. Her long brown hair framed her pale face, caused by the little time she actually spent outdoors during the day; she preferred the night.

She left her hair down that day, the sky covered with dense clouds and the wind blowing strongly as she stepped out of the house, tousling her hair.

As she exited the building, she was greeted by Anne, who approached her with a big smile, jumping onto her and wrapping her arms around Ellie's neck. "Hi, Ellie!"

"Hi, Anne. I see you're in a good mood," despite their conversation from the previous evening, Anne seemed like her usual self, tears replaced by a big smile.

"There's no point in moping, don't you think? And besides, we still have the whole day to spend together," she said, starting to walk, trying to catch up with the rest of the group of Candors.

Ellie adjusted her jacket, feeling chilly. "You're right, this might as well be the last one."

Anne tried not to let what her best friend had just said affect her; the smile was in danger of fading the more she thought about it. Their separation was inevitable, she knew that well, but it didn't hurt any less.

They quickened their pace and finally joined their companions, who were chatting animatedly among themselves, ignoring the two girls nearby and casting glances in their direction.

Neither of them let the comments they overheard about themselves sway them, walking with their heads held high until they reached the building where they would take part in the test.

"Everything will be alright," Ellie whispered into Anne's ear, seeing her agitated; she was nervously biting her cuticles.

"It's just that... Ellie, what if the test says I'm something I don't believe I am?"

Ellie looked at her with a touch of pity; anxiety consumed her from within every time they had an important event, and the Attitude Test was the most crucial day of their lives.

In contrast, she was calm; her hands tingled from the long wait that would lead to The Choosing Ceremony, her only chance for escape.

"You don't have to choose what the test tells you, you know that," she replied, joining the queue with her peers, observing the boys and girls from other factions doing the same.

Anne spoke to her, but if she were honest, she wasn't listening; she had become lost in watching the different groups of youths join their respective lines. It was a beautiful sight to see five distinct lines, neatly separated by five different colors.

Slowly but steadily, the line moved, letting hundreds of boys and girls from all factions into a massive hall with seats for each of them; a woman dressed in blue with a tightly pulled chignon stood in front of a blackboard, her gaze stern as she watched the youths enter.

Once everyone was seated and silence fell over the room, the woman began to speak, explaining the history of their city, the utility of the Attitude Test, and the importance of the Choosing Ceremony. These were crucial for maintaining order within their society.

But Ellie wasn't exactly paying attention; a notebook on her thigh and a small pen in hand, she doodled random lines on the paper; she didn't care to pay attention, she just wanted lunchtime to arrive so they could start with the tests.

That was her only thought for the next few hours, with the woman's voice in the background and Anne beside her continuing to nibble at her cuticles.

A bell signaled the end of the long lesson, prompting the students to split into various small groups for lunchtime. She and Anne took a table apart from the others, away from any other group to spend some uninterrupted time.

"Was the lesson that boring?" Anne asked her, nibbling on a piece of meat, having no appetite.

Ellie shrugged, continuing to eat. "A bit, it's stuff we already know," she said with her mouth full, looking at Anne. "These lessons are pointless."

Anne looked around the lively cafeteria, sighing before pushing away the plate in front of her. "If I eat anymore, I'll vomit."

They fell into silence until five volunteers, each from a different faction, entered the cafeteria to call two students at a time. The redhead began to fidget more, her hands trembling as she watched her peers leave the cafeteria to take the test.

Ellie took her hand, running her thumb over the back of it to try to comfort her. It pained her to see the person closest to her in such a state of anxiety, but alas, Ellie was the last person capable of consoling anyone.

"I can't do this," Anne said, holding her head in her free hand. Her palms were starting to sweat, and Ellie tried to ignore it so as not to make her feel worse; she was disgusted by having her sweaty hand on hers.

The ten students remained inside the rooms for just over five minutes each, some longer than others, and in no time, the second set of students was called.

The cafeteria was now engulfed in silence, each student engrossed in thoughts about their future. Would they leave everything behind just because the test gave them a different result from their original faction?

Almost ten minutes later, the volunteers emerged again.

"For the Candor, Anne Bishop and Ellie Black," the Candor called before returning to the corridor from which he had come, expecting the girls to follow him.

With great calm, they got up, leaving the cafeteria to finally make their way to the rooms where they would take the test. Anne didn't let go of Ellie's hand until they were standing in front of two separate doors.

"Good luck," Ellie whispered to Anne as they entered their respective rooms. The door closed immediately behind her, leaving her alone with a woman dressed entirely in black.

The room was completely covered in mirrors with a chair in the center, the woman was typing something on the computer without showing any sign of having seen Ellie, who stopped to observe her.

She was an Asian woman with long black hair and clothing typical of the Dauntless faction, perhaps the sleek black jacket was too big for her. Ellie noticed a tattoo on the back of her neck but couldn't make out what it was, her hairs was on the way.

The woman turned around, a fairly serene expression on her face. "Nervous?" she asked, smiling at her. "Don't worry, it doesn't hurt."

"No," Ellie replied, still standing.

The woman gestured for her to take a seat in the chair. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll be with you in a second," she said, returning to enter data into the computer.

Ellie observed the room, her image being reflected multiple times, creating a strange optical illusion.

"My name is Tori," the woman said, turning towards her with a reassuring smile and a curious gaze. "I've never seen a Candor so quiet before."

"There's a first time for everything," Ellie replied quickly, irritated by the phrase that had been repeated to her her whole life. She looked ahead, ignoring the glare Tori sent her way.

"Now I'll attach these. They'll allow me to see your choices," Tori said, attaching two suction cups to Ellie's temples. A slight shock passed through Ellie's body. "Drink."

She handed Ellie a small cup containing a slightly blue liquid, its consistency resembling that of water. Perhaps Tori sensed her insecurity and wanted to reassure her that it was harmless, but Ellie took a deep breath before bringing the cup to her lips and swallowing the liquid.

In a few seconds, she felt a strange sensation, like dizziness, before closing her eyes and reopening them; she immediately noticed how the room had changed, the Dauntless woman had disappeared, and the room had widened.

The simulation had begun.

She rose from the chair she had been sitting on to inspect the room and noticed how the door had also changed, but when she reached out to touch one of the mirrors, a voice interrupted her.

"Choose!"

Ellie spun around abruptly, but when she tried to figure out who had spoken, she was met only by her reflection. When she turned back again to touch the mirror, she found two different pedestals in front of her.

One displayed a slice of cheese, while on the other rested a dagger. Ellie immediately reached for the dagger; it would be useful in various situations and objectively much more useful than a simple piece of cheese.

In an instant, the pedestals disappeared, leaving the room empty again.

Ellie observed the dagger in her hands, the cold blade against her palm sending shivers down her spine. What would happen if she even lightly pressed the blade into her palm?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a fierce growl, and a large dog with froth around its mouth began to charge at her; she stood still, waiting for the dog to come close enough to defend herself and, if necessary, attack.

"Oh, a puppy!"

Another voice chimed in, but this time, when Ellie turned, a little girl dressed in white stood behind her. She observed her for a few seconds, completely forgetting about the dog that was about to attack her.

However, at her feet, a whimper caught her attention; a puppy.

She looked around; the fierce dog from before had disappeared, replaced by an adorable puppy. She bent down to pet it, noticing out of the corner of her eye how the little girl was slowly approaching.

She shifted her gaze from the puppy for a second, just in time to see the little girl's happy face contort into an expression of fear. The growl returned, and when she looked back at the dog, she saw how the sweet puppy had turned back into the fierce dog from moments before.

The latter lunged at the little girl, but Ellie stopped it in time by throwing herself onto it and plunging the dagger into the animal's body. She closed her eyes; she didn't like the idea of hurting an animal regardless of its actions.

But she didn't feel the dagger hit anything, and when she opened her eyes, she noticed she wasn't in the room full of mirrors anymore, but rather on a bus, an old man reading the newspaper next to her.

Ellie immediately noticed the image of a man on the front page, with a caption calling him a brutal murderer.

The man reading the newspaper lowered it, eyeing the girl and narrowing his eyes. "Do you know him?" he asked, pointing to the man's face on the front page, his voice trembling.

Ellie had never seen him before, yet there was something familiar about him, like an invisible thread connecting them. She wanted to answer him, to tell him that maybe she had seen him somewhere before, but she stopped herself before a single word escaped her mouth.

She couldn't.

She decided to ignore the man, looking straight ahead and ignoring his pleas.

The man's pleas turned into distant lament, and Ellie closed her eyes, reopening them immediately after. She was back in the initial room, Tori next to her, observing the computer screen.

"The Test gone well" Tori removed the suction cups she had previously placed on Ellie's temples, returning to the computer to input more data. "You've been identified as Dauntless. I hope to see you in a few days."

She turned towards Ellie, smiling and gesturing that she could leave the room.

Ellie didn't linger on the chair any longer than necessary, leaving as soon as she was given the green light. She stood still in the hallway for a few seconds, hoping to encounter Anne, but a volunteer urged her to leave to make room for the next group.

She was ushered out through the back door where various youths from different factions were talking among themselves, some happier than others. She tried to scan the crowd for her best friend but without success; it was as if she had vanished into thin air.

She attempted to wait for her for several minutes, even an hour, but eventually, bored and likely assuming Anne had left without her, she headed home.

During her journey, the sky clouded over and a few drops began to fall, but she didn't seek shelter, too lost in her thoughts.

Dauntless? Could she really be one of them?

Her heart began to beat fast in her chest; she knew she would be leaving her faction, but the idea that the day had finally arrived filled her with a strange anxiety.

The unknown worried her; she was aware of the challenges of initiation among the Dauntless and wondered if she would be able to pass it.

She hurried home as the rain began to intensify, the sky growing darker, and she needed to see Anne, to know how she was and especially what her result had been.

The rules were clear; it was forbidden to reveal the result of the Attitude Test, but the two friends had sworn to tell each other at least.

When she arrived home, she was relieved to notice that her mother was still at work, so she took the opportunity to leave the house again and take the elevator to Anne's floor. In less than five minutes, she stood in front of Anne's apartment door and knocked, patiently waiting for a response.

The door opened shortly after, but it wasn't Anne who greeted her; instead, it was her mother. Her expression changed, a genuine smile appeared on her face. "Oh, hi Ellie! How are you, dear? Come in!"

The woman made space for her to enter. "Good morning, Mrs. Bishop. I'm fine, thank you. And you?"

"I'm good, dear. How did the test go?" Mrs. Bishop gave her a warm hug, a small part of her old faction never left her.

"Good, I'm happy with the result. Have you seen Anne?"

The woman's expression darkened, the smile fading. "Uh, she's in her room. I don't think she's happy with the result. She came home early because she wasn't feeling well during the test," she whispered the last part to avoid being heard by her daughter, who had returned home in tears.

Ellie thanked her before heading towards Anne's room. Some of their photos were hung on the door; she stood still, observing them for a while, reliving the countless memories that would be lost in less than twenty-four hours.

Ellie knocked, and shortly after she opened the door, closing it behind her.

Anne was shattered, her face covered in tears as she hugged the pillow and didn't even look at Ellie when she entered. Unsure of what to do, her friend glanced around, feeling slightly uncomfortable seeing her best friend in tears and being unable to help her.

Trying to regain some composure, Anne sat on the bed and wiped away her tears. She made space on the bed for Ellie, who gladly sat down, putting an arm around her shoulders.

And that's when Anne burst into endless tears, burying her face in Ellie's shoulder. Ellie began to stroke her back to provide some comfort.

It's unknown how long they stayed there, with Anne crying and Ellie thinking about the Choosing Ceremony that would take place the next morning. She glanced down to see her friend lying down, using her legs as a pillow.

When Anne managed to calm down, she got up to go to the bathroom, and shortly after, she returned with a still-red face and clothes wrinkled from the position she had been in.

"I guess it didn't go very well, I imagine," Ellie whispered, trying to be as tactful as possible, and she sighed with relief when she saw that Anne sniffed without falling into tears again.

"Amity, my result," Anne said, looking at the floor and continuing to nibble on her cuticles.

Ellie nodded. "Dauntless."

Anne gave her a small smile. "It wasn't hard to figure out."

"I could say the same about you," but Ellie's words seemed to hurt Anne somehow, causing her eyes to well up again

"Anne, are you okay?"

Ellie approached her again, but her friend recoiled when she tried to touch her arm. "Yes, I just felt sick during the test. That's all."

"Are you sure, I—" 

"Can you just go, please?" Anne's tone was sharp, catching Ellie off guard. She had never received such treatment from her best friend before. Sensing her mistake, Anne closed her eyes. "I need to think..."

Ellie left without giving her a chance to finish her sentence, irritated by her behavior. She always tried to do her best for her, to comfort her even if she wasn't capable of it, and the fact that she was being dismissed like that when she was just trying to help bothered her a lot.

She returned home to seclude herself in her room, hoping her mother would leave her alone until dinnertime, but luck was not on her side that day. In fact, when she closed the door behind her, she saw her mother sitting at the table in the living room.

Her gaze lifted as she saw her only daughter entering the house in a hurry, a un-happy expression on her face as she tried to avoid eye contact with her.

"How did the attitude test go? Are you pleased with the result?" Despite her feigned interest in her daughter's affairs, she couldn't deny she was curious about which faction her daughter belonged to.

"Well, goodbye," Ellie replied, slamming her bedroom door shut, bidding her mother farewell for the last time. The next day, she would have to go to work early; many of her colleagues would be absent due to the Choosing Ceremony to accompany their children.

And Ellie would wait until late at night to have dinner, wanting to avoid as much contact with her mother as possible, knowing she would try to get her to reveal which faction she had chosen.

She would find out the next day, from the whispers in the corridors after the Ceremony, but she didn't want to give her mother the satisfaction of knowing before everyone else, especially seeing that content little smile knowing she would be rid of her.

She hated to admit it, only Anne knew what she felt towards her mother; she hated her, hated her with all her being, but despite that, she harbored a love for her that she couldn't even put into words.

She always tried to appear worthy in her mother's eyes, even unintentionally, but it was as if everything she did was wrong and branded her as the family's shame, the black sheep tarnishing her father's name.

And that's how Ellie fell asleep, still fully dressed and with tears in her eyes, thinking about her best friend, about what she would leave behind by choosing the Dauntless the next day.

Perhaps it was her time, her opportunity, and she wouldn't let anyone ruin that day for her.

Not even someone she considered a sister.

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."

Knowledge pt.3

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

Wordk Count: 6.5k

That night, Michelle couldn't sleep, whether it was due to the snoring of several of her companions or simply because she hadn't yet fully realized where she was.

She chose a bunk bed with Sunny, taking the cot below, figuring that with her habit of sleeping little at night, it would be more comfortable and effective to be underneath.

The beds were uncomfortable, hard as rocks, and sleeping on the floor would probably have been more pleasant, but the other initiates, unlike her, were already deep in the world of dreams.

Michelle sat on the floor with her back against the edge of the bed, gazing ahead at the open showers and bathrooms, a small source of light emanating from there. It was the only light in the entire room.

If it hadn't been for the thin rays of light seeping through the cracks of the door, the room would have been completely engulfed in darkness. She could barely make out the shapes of the beds, let alone who was who.

She pulled out the photo of her and Anne from under the pillow, smiling as she looked at it. She had managed to sneak it into initiation with her, hiding it under the bed while they changed to take their belongings to be incinerated.

She didn't mind seeing her clothes burn; it was like tangible proof that her past no longer existed. Ellie Black was gone; she had been replaced by a better version of herself.

Michelle.

She promised herself to give her best, to push herself to the limit, and to prove to everyone that she was the best by coming out on top. It wouldn't be easy; she was practically starting from scratch unlike many others; she was agile, fast, but lacked the physical strength she would need for the first part of initiation.

She spent the entire night wandering around the dormitory, curious to see if it held any secrets; of course, she found nothing and remained seated at the foot of her bed contemplating her choice to join the Dauntless.

It was done now; she couldn't go back or she would become an outcast, and if there was one thing she would rather do than be cast out from the faction, it was certainly to die. She would throw herself off the cliff if necessary.

She didn't understand where this innate fear of hers was coming from; when she had stepped onto the platform just a few hours earlier, she had been struck by lightning, realizing that it was the right choice.

Her place was with the Dauntless; she just had to learn to live with it.

She took advantage of the fact that everyone was asleep to take a quick shower, which turned into a full-fledged session. She stayed under the water long enough to hear her first companions waking up.

As the water streamed down her body, Michelle scrubbed vigorously at the dirt she had accumulated throughout the day, from climbing onto the platform to jumping off a moving train. She wasn't dirty, just a bit dusty, but she felt weighed down by it, her only thought being to rid herself of that sensation.

She rubbed so many times at different parts of her body that they began to redden, tingling slightly. She ignored the faint burning sensation before getting dressed and putting on the clothes they had issued that evening. They could go pick out clothes of their choice the next day with the points they were given weekly.

Eric had explained to her how things worked in the faction; there was no money, only points, earned by working or, if participating in initiation, given weekly in small amounts for personal indulgences.

Unless one had a private kitchen, everyone ate in the mess hall, saving on food expenses. The rest, besides clothes, were things they could easily do without.

But there was one thing Michelle wanted to get, a sketchbook to start drawing again. In the short time she had spent in that faction, she had felt inspired for many new drawings; she was brimming with ideas; between the cliff, the Pit, and the various tattoos, she had plenty to work with.

"You're an early bird, huh?" chuckled Sunny, still half asleep with a towel in hand for a quick shower.

Michelle smiled at her disheveled hair, resembling a bird's nest in its disorder. "I didn't sleep."

Sunny stopped and looked at her, eyes wide open. "You're crazy. If you don't sleep, you won't have the strength for training."

Her concern made Michelle smile even more. She had a friend.

"I don't need much to feel rested," she replied, pulling her hair into a tight ponytail for the day; it would be the most efficient solution to keep her hair out of her face.

"Maybe not for you, but for your body," Sunny continued as she undressed, stepping into the warm water and sighing at the heat. "It's not good for your head either; you need to sleep a certain number of hours to be fully functional."

Michelle didn't respond, but someone else did in her place. When she heard the voice, she recognized it immediately, rolling her eyes and trying to brush her teeth as quickly as possible.

"There's no need to repeat it to her; she's always been like this. A stubborn head that doesn't understand a thing."

Chloe stepped up to the sink next to Michelle's, splashing water on her face and smiling at the girl beside her. "Isn't that right, Ellie?"

"Ellie? Who's Ellie?" Sunny's voice sounded muffled under the water stream, but both former Candors heard her clearly.

"Our dear Michelle. Her real name is Ellie, or rather, it was," Chloe's tone was sharp for no apparent reason; Michelle had no problem admitting that she had decided to leave her past behind.

"Michelle?" Sunny stepped out of the shower and didn't find her new friend, but instead the girl she had just been talking to and two other guys she remembered being from Michelle's old faction.

"Oh, get used to this," replied one of the guys, the one with a buzz cut.

She looked at him confused, not knowing what he was referring to.

"Ellie takes off, silently. Don't be surprised if she leaves you in the mess to save her own ass," said the other guy, slightly shorter than the first.

She didn't know how to respond honestly, watching them while clutching her towel to her chest, immediately feeling intimidated. The girl smiled at her before turning on her heels and heading back to the dormitory.

After all, it was only six in the morning.

While Sunny was left alone in the dormitory bathrooms, Michelle was exploring the Pit. It was empty, a stark contrast from when they had arrived the day before.

There were few people, just some Dauntless heading to work or simply going to sleep after a long night shift. It was cold, very cold, and Michelle blamed it on the fact that the structure was built into the stone, consequently isolating the warmth.

She wrapped herself in the black leather jacket provided to her; it wouldn't be the most comfortable for training, so she decided to wear a simple hoodie underneath.

Trying to remember where the mess hall was, she crossed the Pit and thankfully found it right in front of her. The day before, they had taken twice as long, having taken the opposite route to see the cliff; maybe it wasn't the labyrinth she had thought it was.

As she entered the mess hall, she was pleasantly surprised to see that it was almost entirely empty, only a few Dauntless were present. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Four, sitting at the same table they had dined at the previous evening.

She decided to sit at the same table as him, directly across. When she sat down, Four looked up and gave a slight smile. "Isn't it a bit early for you, initiate?"

Michelle looked at him, feeling bored from hearing the same thing twice in a short period of time. She ignored him and poured herself a strong cup of coffee, without adding any sugar or milk, receiving a disgusted glance from her instructor.

"What?" she asked, taking a sip from the cup, savoring the pure taste of coffee that filled her mouth.

"Nothing, I just don't know many people who like their coffee plain, and... that's it."

Michelle shrugged, grabbing a slice of toast for breakfast.

She looked around the mess hall to see who was there at that early hour and pleasantly noticed that there wasn't a soul around. Just then, she spotted Eric and Max sitting at a table in the center of the room; had they just arrived?

She narrowed her eyes observing the blond, he seemed bothered by something Max was saying. They spoke in hushed and suspicious tones, one of them calm, relaxed on the bench where he sat, while the other had a cold, furious expression as he listened to what his superior had to say.

"Ignore them, it's for your own good," Four tried to warn her, but Michelle didn't shift her gaze from the unusual pair, continuing to watch them closely, wishing she could read lips at that moment.

Max turned his head slightly and caught Michelle watching them out of the corner of his eye; he whispered something to Eric, who suddenly turned his head to look at the girl.

Michelle decided it might be best to stop staring and resumed her breakfast, trying to ignore the tension building in her body from being caught. Eric's gaze was sharp, cold. It was intimidating.

She tried her hardest not to turn around to see if they were still talking, but glancing at Four, she immediately understood that someone in particular was approaching. She expected to feel a presence sitting at their table any moment, but instead, two hands fell heavily on her shoulders.

"What do we have here?" Eric's voice was almost amused as he began to move his hands over Michelle's shoulders, who was confused and scared at the same time.

Scared not because she had been caught staring, but because it felt like he was giving her a massage. With his thumbs, he started to knead her shoulder blades, and she even found it strangely enjoyable until he found a spot on both sides and pressed down, causing her to straighten up with her back immediately.

Michelle cried out in pain, but Eric didn't seem to have any intention of letting her go.

"Eric, let her go. She hasn't done anything," Four stood up abruptly, attracting the attention of the few people in the mess hall, who began to watch the scene and whisper among themselves.

"I'm not talking to you, Four. Sit down," he glared at his peer, who reluctantly took his seat again. "So, what do we have here, huh? A nosy little initiate?"

Michelle remained silent, and Eric, not appreciating her silence, pressed even harder on her shoulder blades. Michelle gritted her teeth at the unpleasant sensation, not exactly painful, but very uncomfortable.

"If I ask you a question, you have to answer me, initiate," Eric lowered himself to her eye level and whispered into her ear. "Huh? Has someone cut out your tongue already?"

The mocking tone in Eric's voice annoyed her, and before speaking, she swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, hoping her voice wouldn't tremble when she spoke. "Nothing."

It came out no more than a whisper, and Eric smiled, a rather unpleasant smile according to Michelle; it was the kind of chilling smile, sadistic.

"Nothing? Are you sure, because a moment ago you seemed very interested in our conversation," now he was whispering too, amused by the situation. Max had told him to let it go, that hers was just too much curiosity, nothing to punish a girl for.

But he saw the perfect opportunity to make her talk, whether she wanted to or not. He had seen her the previous evening, silently around people who talked too much, and his curiosity was evident.

Why wasn't she speaking?

Eric stopped pressing on her shoulders, but he didn't release his grip. He straightened up and gave her two pats on the back.

"Nothing, huh? See how you'll become nothing in no time," he said, walking away without saying goodbye.

Only then did Michelle realize the silence that had fallen over the entire mess hall, causing her to blush slightly and lower her head over her own cup. She resumed sipping her coffee under Four's watchful gaze.

She was afraid she wouldn't make it; Eric's words certainly didn't help. The initiation itself was already tough, she didn't need one of the faction leaders against her as well.

Four noticed the slight trembling of her hands despite her efforts to appear impassive; he sighed, continuing to watch her.

"Don't listen to him, you have a chance like everyone else," his voice was gentle, and Michelle looked at him, grateful for his attempt at reassurance.

But the fear of not making it, of becoming an outcast, had already solidified in her mind. She would have to give her best to succeed, to use all her non-physical skills to win because she knew she didn't have much strength.

"Everything okay? You both look like you've seen a ghost," Lauren, full of energy as usual, took a seat next to Michelle for breakfast. Her good mood waned slightly as she noticed that neither her colleague nor the new recruit had said anything yet.

"Michelle, I told you to be careful. It's not a joke," Four stood up from the table, visibly annoyed.

Lauren turned to Michelle to find out what had happened, curious about her friend's strange behavior, but she ignored her, continuing to drink her cup of coffee.

The rest of the faction didn't take long to wake up; by seven in the morning, the mess hall began to fill up, and Michelle decided it was time to head to the training quarters, even if it was an hour early.

She left Lauren with a nod, which she returned with a smile. As she passed through the doors of the mess hall, she encountered Sunny and other initiates heading to breakfast.

"Hey, where are you going?" Sunny stopped her, grabbing her forearm and pausing with her.

"I'm going to find the gym," she replied, waiting for Sunny to let her go.

"Oh, okay. See you later."

Michelle began to walk through the Pit, trying to figure out where the gym actually was; there were no signs or anything that could indicate where the facility might be.

The Pit had come back to life; children ran recklessly, risking bumping into Michelle at any moment, and several Dauntless headed to work, opening the shops that faced the Pit.

She had to give the impression of being lost because someone touched her shoulder, catching her off guard. She jumped back and heard a raspy laugh.

"Hey, easy there. Didn't mean to scare you!" It was the man Max had been talking to while they waited for all the initiates to jump off the roof.

"Everything okay? Are you lost?" Michelle observed him, getting lost in the intricate tattoos that covered almost all of his skin. The man must have noticed because he smiled and rolled up his sleeves. "Do you like tattoos?"

"Yes," she replied, continuing to admire the ink patterns on his arms, fascinated.

"Where's training happening?" she asked, still captivated by his tattoos.

"See that corridor?" The man pointed to a hallway at the far end of the Pit. "There are stairs, lots of stairs, that will take you straight to where you need to go."

"Thanks," she said, tearing her gaze away from his tattoos to head towards the corridor he'd indicated. But before she could leave, he stopped her. Michelle turned to him, puzzled.

"Feel free to drop by the tattoo shop anytime. Tori and I run it. You could get one yourself." Despite his distinctive appearance, filled with piercings and covered in tattoos from head to toe, he seemed like a genuinely kind person.

He spoke to Michelle with kindness, and there was everything but ill intent in his eyes.

Michelle nodded before leaving.

The hallways were as dark as any other, and she paled at the thought of the number of stairs she'd have to climb to reach the dormitories; stairs upon stairs.

During her journey, she encountered no one, making her feel as if she were in the wrong place. After about five minutes of nothing but stairs, she reached a long, empty, dimly lit corridor. From a distance, she saw iron doors and cautiously opened them.

She was relieved to see that she was in the right place. At that moment, she understood why it took her so long to get there, with all those stairs; it was the interior of an old factory, probably, a vast empty space set up with various machinery and objects for training.

In the center of the room were four mats that she guessed would be used for hand-to-hand combat, while a few meters away, several punching bags were hung from a beam.

On the other side of the room, in a corner, there were machines that she had already seen during one of her explorations in an old abandoned complex. It was a weightlifting area.

"You're early," Four's voice echoed through the empty room, and Michelle turned to try to figure out where he was.

Four was on a bench near the mats, holding a bottle. Michelle shrugged and approached, surveying the place with attentive eyes.

"You never talk?" Four asked curiously, watching her as she moved around the gym.

"I don't like to," Michelle simply replied, touching the punching bags to gauge their weight. When she saw that they didn't budge at her touch, she realized she'd likely end up hurting her knuckles.

"I figured as much. You'll be hot in that sweater during training," Four remarked.

Michelle shrugged again, ignoring him, and Four smiled, mimicking her. In doing so, he earned a glare from her, and to defend himself, he raised his hands in the air.

The door opened again with a loud noise, grabbing both of their attention. Four stood up when he noticed Eric entering with Lauren.

They were an odd pair, with Eric looking ready to kill someone and Lauren walking with all the tranquility in the world. When she saw the initiate, she smiled.

"Always early, I like that," she said as she passed by, giving Michelle a friendly punch on the arm.

However, Eric didn't seem pleased with that small interaction and decided to stay silent, with a bored expression on his face as he took a seat on one of the benches opposite to where Four had placed his belongings.

The latter began reviewing data on a tablet, while Lauren took a seat on the other side of the gym where an area similar to where they were now was set up.

Michelle stood with her hands in her pockets, watching Four tinkering with the tablet and occasionally glancing at the blonde to her right, who seemed intent on wrapping his knuckles.

She didn't realize she was staring until she locked eyes with Eric. She immediately looked away, not wanting to risk getting in trouble like she had an hour before, and fortunately, the other initiates, both interns and transfer ones, diverted Eric's attention from her.

Michelle approached where Four was positioned. She began to feel anxious, unsure of what to expect from the first training session, and she sincerely hoped that Eric was only there to supervise.

It was barely eight in the morning, and his knuckles were already sore, blood staining the wraps he had just put on.

In a few minutes, all eleven transfer initiates gathered in front of Eric and Four, who silently observed the initiates. They waited for silence before speaking.

"The initiation is divided into three different modules: the first is more physical, the second emotional, and the third mental. These three phases will last for two months. After these, if you pass, you'll officially be part of the Dauntless," Four began, walking towards the huge windows, and Michelle was grateful she had brought her jacket.

The sky was overcast, as it had been for the past few days, indicating they wouldn't have a sunny day for a while. One of the windows lacked glass, and they passed through it to enter a rooftop, which was set up with various targets and types of firearms.

"One per station!" Four shouted, standing in front of the table where the weapons were positioned, picking up a couple and approaching the initiates to distribute them. "The three modules carry different weights on your score, so don't worry if you're not good at something; you have a chance to catch up."

"If you're not good, you'll be thrown out," Eric added, entering the rooftop behind them with a nonchalant and bored air. He took his place at the table where Four was handing out the guns.

He reached Michelle and handed her the pistol; it felt heavy in her hands, and if she were honest, she didn't like it. She weighed it, passing it from hand to hand, feeling it.

It didn't feel right in her hands. 

"Now copy my position," Four positioned himself, holding the pistol with both hands, legs slightly apart for balance. "And fire."

His shot was perfect. It hit the center of the target's head.

Michelle began to tremble slightly, feeling awkward with the gun in her hand, and looking around, it seemed like everyone else had already done it. She raised the gun and spread her legs.

Around her, several shots rang out, but few of them hit the target. Even fewer were lethal.

She was the only one who hadn't fired a shot yet. She felt as if the gun would explode in her hand if she did.

She felt Four's presence behind her before seeing or hearing him. "Everything okay?" he asked, looking at the target with her, still devoid of holes.

Michelle nodded slightly, and he looked at her, immediately understanding what the problem was. It wasn't the first time he had seen someone react that way to a gun; it was a natural reaction to be afraid of a firearm.

With a gentle touch, he adjusted her stance, nudging her legs apart a little more with his foot.

"If it helps, close one eye to aim," he said, waiting for her to pull the trigger. Michelle took a deep breath, closing her eyes to try to isolate herself from her surroundings.

She opened her eyes and took aim, still trembling a bit, but when she fired the first shot, she managed to hit the silhouette. Nothing lethal, but she would certainly have lost the use of her right leg if it had been a person.

"Well done," he said before moving on to the person next to her.

Michelle smiled at having managed to pull the trigger and looked around, unconsciously searching for Sunny. She saw her busy shooting at a position a little to the right of her, and when she looked at Sunny's target, she was surprised to see two shots to the head, lethal, and some to the abdomen.

When she realized someone was watching her, she turned, locking eyes with Michelle. Sunny smiled at her, a euphoric expression on her face.

Michelle resumed shooting at her target, but she could only hit the arms or legs. She huffed in frustration at not being able to get closer to the heart or head.

"Is that the best you can do?" Eric's derisive tone caught her off guard, turning her head so quickly it gave her a headache.

She watched him in silence, hoping that after this comment, he would leave to torment another initiate. But he stayed there, arms crossed over his chest, watching her as if she were incapable.

"Shoot."

Michelle turned, the trembling in her hands more pronounced under the critical gaze of one of the leaders. She took a breath and took aim. The shot threw her off balance a bit, feeling the recoil more than before.

Surprisingly, she managed to hit the area between the neck and shoulder.

"See you below the red line, initiate," Eric whispered in her ear.

He left Michelle at her station, annoyed to see so many incompetent people gathered together. His eye fell on a girl, the shortest among them all, who had managed to hit the head, heart, and abdomen with every shot.

He stopped behind her, observing her technique. She was short, lacking muscles, without curves, but she had good technique.

The girl realized his presence behind her and briefly turned her head to see who it was. Seeing Eric, she turned her head back to the target, frightened. The stories from Four and Lauren had terrified her; she wanted to have as little to do with him as possible.

"Name?" his tone was monotone.

"T-Tina," she stammered, glancing to her left to observe Max, who watched the scene suspiciously.

"Not bad," he said, returning to take a round to see how the other initiates were faring.

Tina blushed at the compliment, turning to Max to silently celebrate.

Four kept an eye on him, feeling his gaze on his back, and if he were honest, he was annoyed by that behavior. He turned to look at him, catching him again near the same initiate he had sat next to at breakfast that morning.

What was so special about her? He had been wondering since Max, at breakfast that morning, had told him to keep an eye on Michelle. He hadn't told him why, just to be careful of her movements.

He didn't understand; she was obviously incapable, lacking muscles or strength, and she would be thrown out at the end of the first module. Wasting energy on such a recruit was pointless in his opinion.

They remained on the roof for the entire morning, shot after shot, everyone managed to become familiar with the pistol. Some more than others.

Sunny joined Michelle as soon as Four declared that they would have an hour for lunch, releasing them.

"It was amazing!" exclaimed Sunny, taking Michelle's arm, who, on the contrary, had a rather annoyed expression. Her arms and fingers were tingling from the effort of holding the gun up in the air for hours.

"Don't you like it?" Tina asked, joining the two girls and noticing Michelle's unhappy expression. "I thought it was so cool!"

"You did great," commented Sunny.

"Thank you, you were pretty good too," Tina took Sunny side to talk to her, but they were interrupted by Max, who, in a rather impolite manner, barged into the conversation.

"I, girls, was much better than all of you put together," he puffed up his chest, strutting around like a peacock to show off.

Tina shoved him playfully, laughing. "Yeah, right. That's why Eric came to compliment you," she said proudly, and Michelle felt a twinge of jealousy knowing that he had complimented her, when instead he had told her that she wouldn't even pass to the next module.

Michelle detached herself from the group, irritated by Tina's showing off. She knew it was a bit of an overreaction, she had no reason to take it so personally, but knowing that she was already on thin ice made her even more irritable than before.

"Hey…" Sunny tried to call out to her in vain, Michelle quickened her pace to reach the cafeteria.

She arrived at the cafeteria sooner than expected, overtaking anyone in her way, and when she reached the Pit, she was joined by Sunny. Unconsciously, she relaxed, a more serene expression on her face knowing that her one friend in that faction was by her side.

In many ways, Sunny reminded her of Anne, perhaps it was the fact that she was insistent and wouldn't leave unless she spoke to her.

"Are you sure everything is okay?" she asked, approaching her because of the noise in the cafeteria. A worried expression on her face.

Michelle pondered whether to tell her or if it was too stupid of a reason, but seeing her so concerned, she decided to talk to her about it. "Eric is convinced that I won't pass the first module."

Sunny looked at her first surprised and then angry. "Don't listen to him, we've just started. You have plenty of time to improve, and besides, you weren't even among the worst. Some didn't even hit an arm on the target!"

"I don't know what to say," Michelle shrugged and went to sit at the same table she had chosen since it always seemed to be empty.

"Ignore him, show him that you're the best in here," Sunny clung to her arm, smiling, and Michelle couldn't help but laugh along.

She reminded her too much of Anne.

"Anyway," Michelle lifted her head from her plate when she heard Sunny speaking to her, "What do you think of the other initiates?"

Michelle looked around to locate where the remaining nine initiates were sitting. Most of the former Erudite were sitting together, except for the brunette in front of her; the two Abnegation were sitting by themselves with the lone former Amity.

Then there were her former faction mates, talking amongst themselves on the other side of the cafeteria.

She shrugged. "Nothing special."

"True, but that Patrik over there is really good at shooting. He also seems to be in good shape," Michelle turned to look at the boy sitting with Chloe and Connor, with his usual cocky expression.

Michelle remembered all the times she saw him bullying some poor kid at school; it was obvious he was in good shape. He was the type of person who sailed through every situation, and it was almost normal for him to be so comfortable among the Dauntless.

"I guess you two don't get along from the way you're looking at him," Sunny turned to her, smiling mischievously.

"He's been a jerk since we were kids, that's all," Michelle replied bluntly.

"Yeah, it shows," her friend said lightly, returning to her meal.

The remaining ten minutes passed in silence as they finished eating and headed back to the training quarters. Michelle and Sunny were the first to leave the cafeteria and the first to arrive in the gym, after Four, of course.

He turned to look at them when they entered and then returned to writing something on a whiteboard placed near the various mats used for combat. "Today we start with techniques, we don't want you to get hurt."

"Good," Sunny said, starting to stretch, receiving confused looks from Michelle. "You should stretch too; it will make your muscles hurt less."

Michelle trusted her, especially after Four nodded in agreement with her friend. She stood next to her, copying her movements, and discovered that she was more flexible than she had imagined.

It didn't take more than ten minutes, just enough time for the huge room to fill up again with the transfers.

Michelle looked around and was relieved not to see Eric with them, but rather in the distance with the Dauntless kids and Lauren. Maybe this time she would be able to do her best without feeling intimidated.

She was wrong.

Eric's presence or absence didn't change the fact that she struggled to move the punching bag. She was relieved to see that many of her other classmates were in the same situation, although not exactly as bad.

Four moved from initiate to initiate to correct their form and give advice on how to improve, but when he came to her, he remained silent, observing her.

"You lack strength," he remarked, moving from her right side to her left. Michelle felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "But you're fast, very fast. Use that to your advantage."

He helped her improve her form, slightly bending her back and then pointing out critical points to strike. She felt slightly relieved to know that she wasn't completely lost, but that she simply needed to focus more on her tactics than strength.

Four had been kind in correcting her mistakes, in highlighting her weakness, but she knew that when Eric passed by, he could bury her. 

As she continued to hit the punching bag, she thought about how much harder than expected it would be to pass the initiation; she never imagined it would be so tough. Had something changed?

Towards the end of the training, Four stopped them and ordered them to pair up according to what was written on the whiteboard. Michelle paused for a moment to catch her breath and, walking towards the whiteboard, saw that her name was not paired with anyone.

She looked at Four in confusion, who approached her. "You're odd, one of you had to be with me."

Everyone took their places on the mats, and Four began to speak. "Now apply what you've done so far between yourselves. Don't hit each other hard; it's just to get the hang of the movements."

He turned to Michelle, giving her a small smile. "You start."

Initially, she was worried about having to train with their instructor, thinking he would be too harsh, but instead, it was pleasant; the movements were fluid, and every mistake he corrected, showing her a more effective way to defend or attack.

"Four!" all the initiates stopped to watch Eric advance towards them, a malicious grin on his face. "Allow me to give a demonstration."

Four looked at him grimly, not pleased with his tone and behavior. He approached them and took his place in front of Michelle, before casting a brief glance at the other initiates.

"Continuing like this will get you nowhere," he said sternly. "You have to prove that you're the best for us to choose you."

He assumed an attacking position, and Michelle watched him, immediately going into defense mode. She tried to hide the trembling in her hands as people began to surround them to watch the scene.

Everyone knew Michelle wouldn't come out of this without a bit of blood. Especially Four.

"Now watch, and maybe you'll learn something," Eric said before turning his attention back to Michelle, immediately noticing her insecurity and trembling. He smiled, pleased with her reaction.

Eric began to circle, forcing Michelle to move. He waited a few seconds before taking a step and then attacking, which she immediately noticed, allowing her to dodge the punch coming her way.

He was surprised, he had to admit.

After the first missed strike, he focused on the poor girl, launching blow after blow but failing to land a hit. Sunny watched them tense, ready to assist her friend as soon as something happened.

Four was surprised; he had noticed her speed but underestimated her tactics; Michelle could anticipate Eric's moves.

Eric, unlike Four, was more pissed off and annoyed than surprised. Sure, it was lasting longer than he wanted, but the fact that he missed her by inches was infuriating him.

Their skirmish picked up speed, and Michelle began to miss shots; her anxiety was starting to get the better of her. Her movements became less precise, and with a lunge, Eric managed to graze her, making him realize that this was his chance.

Michelle tried to dodge his strikes, but with each blow, Eric was getting closer and closer to hitting her. She was short of breath, her heart racing as she struggled to hold her ground.

The only thing she could focus on were Eric's words, telling her that she wouldn't make it, that she would be eliminated at the end of the first module, and as much as she wanted his words to motivate her, they had the opposite effect.

They dragged her down.

She got distracted for a moment, just a second, and in that moment, Eric managed to land a hit on her cheekbone. Michelle fell to the ground, and for a few seconds, she felt nothing, neither the people around her nor the pain.

But then it came.

She gritted her teeth in pain, the sharp sensation preventing her from opening her eyes. It felt as if her entire face had been shattered into a thousand pieces by that simple punch.

In the background, she could hear Eric's voice speaking to the initiates, but she couldn't focus on his words because of the intense pain.

She remained on the ground for a while, not too long, because when she got up, Eric was still standing in front of her, proud with his arms crossed over his chest as he looked down at her.

He smiled at her. "That's how you get yourself kicked out," he exclaimed to the other initiates before dismissing them.

It was already six o'clock.

Some of them stayed to watch Michelle for a few more seconds before heading back to the dormitory to take a shower. She remained still, holding the right side of her face with her hand, the pressure alleviating the pain.

She stared at Eric, who was still on the mat. He looked back at her, pleased with the blow he had landed; it would leave a nasty bruise if it hadn't already broken it.

They locked eyes, a silent promise to make each other's lives hell.

Omg i need capther 4😭😭😭

you ask and you receive!

Knowledge pt.4

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.

Ppairing: Eric Coulter x Reader

Word count: 6k

"You've got quite a nasty bruise," remarked Sunny as she sat down beside her on the bed, later that evening after their first training session. "You're lucky it's not broken."

"It hurts," Michelle said, still holding the ice pack against her cheekbone. The icy sensation kept her awake. She had just woken up from a long nap after returning from training.

"Did you go to the infirmary?"

"No, Four checked it," Michelle recalled Four; he had stayed back to assess the damage, having seen the hard hit she took. He commended her agility and speed in dodging blows, encouraging her to continue improving those aspects of her technique.

But she lacked strength. If she had attacked Eric, she would have lost immediately.

"Hmm..." Sunny got up to climb onto her own bed, bidding her goodnight.

Michelle lay awake in bed, staring at the cot above hers, listening to the snores of some of her comrades. She wasn't sleepy at all.

She remained lying in bed for what felt like an eternity, waiting for her comrades to fall completely asleep. She didn't want any of them to rat her out for leaving the dormitory at night.

When she felt like everyone was asleep, she waited another five minutes to be sure; then, from under her pillow, she took out the photo of her and Anne, tracing her best friend's face with her fingertip.

It had only been a day since they parted ways, yet it felt like an eternity.

She quickly got up and grabbed her boots, not putting them on right away to avoid making noise. She opened the metal door very slowly and slipped out, donning her boots and covering herself against the cold with a leather jacket.

The corridors were completely empty that night, like the days to come. It had become Michelle's routine to sleep after training and then spend the entire night training on her own.

She found it easier to train when no one was there to bother her, and she was lucky not to find anyone else training at night, or she would have gotten into trouble in no time.

And she didn't want to be face to face with Eric again, who, after their sparring on the first day of initiation, had finally left her alone. It was as if she didn't exist anymore, and she was grateful for that. His attention was the last thing she wanted.

She didn't know why Eric had decided to stop tormenting her, making snide remarks about her incapability and weakness, and maybe it was better that way. Eric himself wasn't pleased with such an order, received from higher-ups.

He had to leave her alone, let her follow her path.

During that first week, Michelle found herself spending more and more time with Sunny, a ray of sunshine in that cold, dark place. Having a friend had helped her a lot, especially with her little aiming problem.

She had improved at shooting, finally managing to make critical hits on the target. Nothing extraordinary, but it was better than how she had started a week earlier.

However, that night someone joined her in the gym, scaring her to death when they spoke.

"Isn't it a bit late?" Lauren's voice made her jump, causing the Dauntless leader to chuckle. "You're always so lost in thought that you never notice me."

"You're quiet, it's different," Michelle replied, watching her approach, dressed in heavier clothes.

She didn't know whether to go back to training or grab her things and leave; she was just waiting for Lauren's reaction to know what to do. But when the woman started taking off the extra clothes, she was almost surprised.

Lauren approached her, now wearing only leggings and a long-sleeved shirt. "You're weak."

Michelle rolled her eyes, returning to hitting the punching bag. "I hadn't figured that out," she replied sarcastically, annoyed at how obvious it was.

She trained every afternoon and every night, yet she couldn't put on muscle; all her comrades were starting to get stronger, more defined, while she remained stagnant.

Lauren smiled before moving closer to the punching bag to look her in the face. "The fact is, you don't eat enough. For breakfast, you just have a cup of coffee, for lunch, you stay light because you're afraid of feeling sick in the afternoon, and often you skip dinner in the evening."

She kept hitting the bag, her knuckles and arms throbbing with pain, but she gritted her teeth and kept going. She thought about Lauren's words and had to admit she was right.

She slowed down her punches, eventually stopping to look at her, expecting some advice or something of the sort. Lauren immediately realized she had her full attention and smiled.

"You need to eat more, have more substantial meals, otherwise you burn more than you eat. You should gorge on meat, in short, eat as much as you can, and for breakfast, go for eggs maybe."

Michelle was used to eating little even when she was in her old faction; she and Anne preferred to grab food and move to a less crowded place, so they could carry less food with them.

She nodded, turning back to look at the punching bag and then at her knuckles, bleeding. The only reason the bag wasn't stained with blood was because of its black color.

"Come on, I'll show you how to wrap them properly," Lauren took her by the arm, dragging her towards one of the benches scattered around the gym.

As the woman got up to fetch the wraps, Michelle turned her head to gaze at the sky outside the windows, still as black as pitch. It must have been around four in the morning.

Lauren returned shortly after with a small white box and knelt in front of her; she took out a white bottle, cotton, and the wraps from it.

"It's going to sting," she warned before dipping the cotton into the bottle and dabbing it on Michelle's knuckles. Michelle gritted her teeth and closed her eyes; she felt her hands catch fire, but fortunately, the sensation didn't last long.

With great care, Lauren cleaned her knuckles with the disinfectant before taking the wraps and, showing her the most effective way to do it, wrapped them around her knuckles. As she handled the wraps, she glanced at her stealthily, wondering why they wanted her to be kept under observation.

She would never disobey orders, but she wondered why she, of all people, was important. Unlike her, Eric was anything but pleased with the orders, annoyed by the obligation to leave her alone.

She couldn't understand Eric's behavior; he hadn't always been like this, yet now his greatest pleasure was to make people around him miserable, showing off his superiority at every opportunity.

"There, all done," she whispered when she secured the wraps to ensure they wouldn't come loose during the day. Lauren stood up, dusting off her knees, and took a seat beside the girl, giving her a light shove. "Listen to my advice, eat more."

Michelle nodded again without taking her eyes off her wrapped knuckles.

She was grateful that the fights hadn't started yet; she wouldn't stand a chance against anyone. She was fast, able to avoid getting hit, but that wouldn't earn her any points.

Remembering something Lauren had said to her one of the first times they spoke, she turned to her, catching the woman a bit off guard with her ice-blue eyes. She had never noticed it before.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, I'm here for that."

"Will you help me become stronger?" Lauren was confused by that question, and Michelle clarified, "I can't win if I'm just on the defensive."

The woman smiled at her more than before and got up from the bench, heading towards the mat. "Come?"

Michelle followed her onto the mat, standing in front of her, waiting for instructions, but Lauren had something else in mind.

"Let's pretend we're fighting. I won't hit you. I just want to see what tactics you have and how you move." Lauren took a fighting stance, and Michelle immediately copied, bringing her hands up in front of her face.

They started circling the mat just as she had done with Eric, waiting for an attack, and soon after, Lauren lunged at her. Michelle noticed the slight lunge she made before actually throwing herself at her and dodged it.

They went on like this for a good ten minutes, with Lauren attacking and Michelle staying on the defensive until the leader called off the fight.

This time, Michelle didn't feel out of breath. Sure, she had gone easier than with Eric, but she was pleased to notice that at least her stamina had increased.

"You're good, but you're right. If you only stay on the defense, you won't win." Lauren observed her for a moment before creating a plan in her head. "Try this: you're quick, use it to your advantage to hit critical points like the throat or temple."

Lauren approached her. "Now I'll show you how to do it, and you have to try it on me, okay?"

Michelle nodded and watched Lauren's movements, trying to copy them immediately afterward. Unsuccessfully, however.

They continued to train, but she began to get frustrated finding herself on the ground over and over again. She huffed, getting up for the hundredth time and getting into position.

"Think of something that pisses you off or someone you want to smash in the face," the leader tried to encourage her.

Michelle closed her eyes and thought of something that annoyed her, so much so that she hated it. It didn't take long for Eric's image to appear in her mind, telling her she couldn't do it, that she was a liability and a waste of resources.

She opened her eyes and nodded to Lauren to start, the woman in front of her glad to see something different in her eyes.

Lauren lunged at her, and with speed, Michelle dodged the blow, attempting to strike back at her temple, almost succeeding. "Better, keep it up!" Lauren encouraged her.

This time, Michelle took the initiative, attacking Lauren's defense, trying to hit her throat, but only managed to strike her stomach, causing her to step back.

They circled on the mat for a bit before Lauren returned to the attack, landing blow after blow and only managing to hit Michelle's shoulder once. However, Michelle didn't give up and countered, hitting her abdomen and blocking her blows.

In a moment of distraction, though, Lauren managed to sweep her feet out from under her, tripping her.

Michelle stood there, tired and sweaty, trying to catch her breath.

"That's better. Once you eat more and build muscle, you could really become one of the best among the transfers," Lauren said, sitting down on the mat, exhausted from the workout.

It had been a while since she sparred with someone so fast. It was hard to block her blows, let alone land one unless she was distracted.

"Pay attention to your feet too, otherwise you'll end up on your ass," both girls laughed.

“Why could I be one of the best?” It was a legitimate question that had come to mind as soon as Lauren mentioned it, and Michelle straightened up to look her in the face, her muscles sore.

Lauren sighed, pushing her hair away from her face. “The guys I train with assume that just because they're Dauntless-born, they have a guaranteed spot here. But you have good technique, you're a natural force.”

Michelle blushed at the compliment and looked down, fiddling with her fingers.

“How are you doing in the rankings?” Lauren asked her.

"Tenth," Michelle said, turning to look at the board on the wall. Thankfully, her name wasn't below the red line; for now, they were only based on results from pistol training.

But it made her anxious to be so close to the red line, it was the last safety net, and one mistake would be enough to drop her below.

"Not bad, especially considering you started from scratch," Michelle shot her a glare; she knew those weren't good results, she didn't want to hear nonsense. Lauren raised her eyebrows.

They remained silent for a while, and when Michelle turned her head, she noticed the sky beginning to lighten. She got up from the mat to grab her things and head back to the dormitory for a well-deserved shower.

"It's been a pleasure. If you ever need to train again, you know who to ask," Lauren grabbed her belongings too and left before Michelle, closing the doors behind her. Michelle wondered what she was doing out at that hour dressed like that.

It wasn't her business, and as she had come to understand during that week, it was better not to pry into other people's affairs. She decided to take all the time in the world to return to the dormitory, not wanting to face everyone else just yet.

She decided to take a different route and found herself in one of the corridors overlooking the Pit. The shops were all still closed, naturally, but she noticed the tattoo parlor was already open, its lights on.

Deciding to pass by, she walked past the staircase that would lead her down to the Pit and then back to the dormitory. She stopped in front of it and saw movement inside, the same man who had helped her find the gym on the first day of initiation.

Michelle paused to look at the designs on display. She didn't realize the man was approaching the entrance until she saw him standing beside her out of the corner of her eye.

They silently observed the drawings for a while. "Do you like them?" he asked without shifting his gaze from the window.

"They're not my style, but they're nice," Michelle replied.

"Do you want to take a look inside?" the man moved towards the entrance, glancing back to see if she would follow. He smiled when she joined him after a second of hesitation. "I'm Tyson, by the way. We never properly introduced ourselves."

"Michelle."

"I know, I've heard about you," his tone was amused as he glanced at her, but Michelle seemed not to appreciate it. "Don't worry, only good things. Except for the punch you took from Eric on the first day."

Tyson laughed, and Michelle ignored him, moving away to approach one of the many columns where several designs were hung. They were beautiful; she got lost in observing them one by one, but only a few were to her liking.

She wasn't particularly fond of the designs themselves; she preferred geometric shapes, interweaving lines, or similar things.

Tyson joined her. "Do you want one? It's early, but I could make an exception for you."

Michelle looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "Lauren and Tori weren't kidding; you're not much of a talker, huh?"

He started to walk away, somewhat disappointed that he couldn't seem to have a conversation with the girl, but her voice stopped him. "If I draw something for you, would you tattoo it?"

Her question was unusual; he had never had anyone want to tattoo something they had drawn before, but he nodded. "Do you have something in mind?"

It was her turn to nod. "I'll be back in a few days."

When she reached the dormitory, it was probably around seven in the morning. Most of her companions were already up and having breakfast, but when she went to take a shower, she encountered Tina trying to dry her tears in front of the mirror.

Michelle hesitated, contemplating if sneaking away before Tina noticed her would be a good idea, but the girl turned towards her, looking at her. 

Tina had red and swollen eyes, her face twisted in a sad expression, and she sniffled occasionally. Saying that Michelle felt uncomfortable would be an understatement.

It was embarrassing, and she decided to move towards the showers, hoping to avoid the impending conversation, but she didn't have time to undress and turn on the water before Tina's voice distracted her.

"What am I doing wrong?" her voice was interrupted by sobs and crying. Michelle leaned her head against the shower door before turning towards her, trying to figure out what she wanted her to do.

"I do, I do everything for him! And he treats me like this!" she started crying again, and feeling guilty, Michelle approached. Tina quickly hugged her and cried on her shoulder.

Michelle stood still for several minutes before someone else entered the bathroom, luckily, it was Chloe. The girl always had the need to show off and help anyone in trouble to improve her image, and things hadn't changed at all.

When she saw Tina in tears, she reached her, forcefully pushing Michelle aside. "What did you do?" she accused, turning towards her and stroking Tina's hair.

"It's not her fault," Tina managed to say through tears.

Michelle didn't stay to watch the scene unfold and immediately stepped under the hot water jet, cursing as she remembered the wraps. She removed them and winced as the sensation of the water droplets hit the open wounds. It wasn't pleasant.

Fortunately, Michelle heard Tina's complaints fade away from the bathroom, indicating she would have the chance to get ready in peace.

She wished she could stay under the hot water jet for hours, but she remembered Lauren's advice to have a good breakfast, so she forced herself to step out and get ready. She put on simple black sweatpants, comfortable shoes, and a hoodie, knowing that today they would start hand-to-hand combat.

She braided her hair into two loose braids and hurried out of the dormitory, reaching the cafeteria in a few minutes. Every muscle in her body was on fire as she tried not to bump into anyone while wrapping her knuckles in motion. They were still bleeding, and she didn't want to mess around, especially not while eating with the smell of blood in the air.

When she arrived at the cafeteria, she scanned the room for Sunny and soon spotted her, sitting with Four, Max, and another initiate she had never talked to before. She joined them and took a seat next to her friend, who greeted her with a big hug.

"There you are! I was wondering where you were; you weren't anywhere when I woke up," her cheerful tone made Michelle smile as she grabbed scrambled eggs and, of course, her usual cup of coffee.

Four looked up upon hearing Sunny and glanced at her friend next to her, confused, wondering where she was, and especially why she was out of the dormitory when it wasn't allowed. He shrugged it off, maybe he had misunderstood.

He didn't stay long to listen to the guys' conversation and grabbed his things to head to the training quarters, finding Eric already there. He was standing in front of the whiteboard, engrossed in something.

Eric slightly turned his head upon earing Four entering, then returned his gaze to the whiteboard. "They're odd, one won't be fighting today," Eric said simply when Four joined him, maintaining a certain distance.

That made Eric smile.

Four glanced over the pairs Eric had created, and when he reached the end, he saw Michelle's name alone. He furrowed his brows and turned to Eric. "Why Michelle? There are initiates worse than her."

"Because she's not capable, she lacks strength, and the sooner she fights, the sooner she'll end up below the red line, which the higher-ups don't want, and you know that well, Four," his tone was serious as he spoke without looking at him, standing straight, still irritated by the orders that had been strictly given to the two of them, Lauren, and Max.

"No, I don't know. I've seen less capable people than her, and we both have seen how capable she is," he insisted.

Eric turned towards him, a displeased smirk on his face as he took a step closer. He was slightly taller, just enough to assert dominance. "Because I've decided so, don't contradict me, Four."

When Michelle and Sunny reached the quarters, they were surprised to see some of their companions already there, positioned in front of the blackboard near the mats.

"They must be the pairs, come on!" Sunny grabbed her by the wrist, pulling her in front of the blackboard, and indeed, she was right; there were the pairs for the day.

Arlo - Connor Patrick - Thomas Bowie - Andy Chloe - Max Tina - Sunny Michelle -

Michelle?

Furrowing her brows, Michelle turned to find Four, ignoring Tina's arrival; she walked away from the group to join him on one of the benches, but before he even looked up, he responded.

"It wasn't my choice," he said.

"It was mine," Eric's icy voice sent shivers down Michelle's spine, and she immediately stiffened. "Consider it a favor. Now, join the other initiates."

Turning to look at him, she clenched her fists, imagining punching him in the nose. Still tense, she nodded and walked towards her companions, trying to ignore the anger his presence alone stirred within her.

He was insolent, arrogant, and above all, he was a jerk.

She was relieved to know it wasn't just her perception; Tyson had told her some stories about the young leader when he was an initiate as she spent the morning in his shop. Tyson's company was one she was starting to appreciate more and more as the days passed.

"So? You're not fighting?" Max asked when she took a seat among them, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face.

She shook her head.

"How come?" Max smiled, and Michelle wished she could wipe that smirk off his face; his inability to be serious for five minutes straight was exhausting.

"I fight tomorrow, we're odd," Michelle simply replied, taking a seat on the floor, ready to endure hours of combat without being able to participate.

On one hand, she was grateful; she had the opportunity to study the fighting style of all her companions, which would help her a lot when it was her turn. But the fact that she, of all people, had been chosen to sit out among them gnawed at her.

It hadn't been Four's decision, but Eric's.

Was it another way of telling her she was incapable? Did she really suck that much? Didn't she deserve to be there with them? Was she not up to their standards?

The more she thought about it, the more she felt tears welling up at the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. But she couldn't wallow in self-pity, not with Chloe staring at her from across the mat with an air of superiority.

She would prove to everyone that that was her place. Not theirs.

"Arlo and Connor! On the mat!" Eric shouted, grabbing the attention of the two boys.

They took their places on the mat facing each other, and Arlo seemed much more prepared than Connor; he had a confident air and a stance ready to attack. Although his muscles weren't well-defined, Michelle could see them as he brought his hands up to his face.

Connor, on the other hand, seemed almost awkward in front of him, his cocky and impertinent demeanor from when he was with his little group of friends nowhere to be seen. Michelle smiled at seeing him struggle.

"Begin!" Four signaled the start of the match, and the two boys began circling the mat, waiting for one of them to strike first.

They went on for a good five minutes, and Eric's expression became increasingly bored and frustrated, playing with the piercing on his lip as if to entertain himself somehow.

Michelle had to admit that small action was quite attractive.

When she refocused her attention on her companions after Sunny nudge her with her elbow, she saw Arlo take the first step, closing the distance between them. This caused Connor to retreat and go on the defensive.

"We're not at the playground, let's go!" Eric huffed, and the two boys glanced at him for a split second before turning their attention back to each other.

Arlo closed his eyes for a fraction of a second before reopening them and landing a blow to Connor's face, which he barely parried by bringing his arms up to shield himself. They began grappling, with Arlo on the offensive and Connor on the defensive.

Arlo lunged at him, trying to bring him down, but Connor managed to grab him around the waist and, despite being shorter, he managed to hurl him across the mat.

"Go, Connor!" Chloe cheered, clapping her hands.

"Keep it up!" Patrik chimed in.

Michelle watched them, still somewhat envious that she had never been able to be friends with them when they were kids. But that didn't matter now; she would prove herself to be better than them.

"You'll regret this," Arlo gritted his teeth, getting back up and charging at Connor.

They resumed exchanging punches, occasionally attempting to take each other down without success. Arlo was stronger and taller, but Connor seemed to have better balance and was thinking more with his head than with his fists.

They remained on the mat for half an hour, and just when everyone thought the match would go on indefinitely, Arlo began ruthlessly attacking his opponent after taking a nasty right hook to the face.

He grabbed Connor's head from behind his neck, forcefully bringing it down to bash against his knee. Connor's nose immediately started bleeding, and he brought his hands to his face to try to stem the flow of blood, but Arlo showed no mercy.

He continued to strike wherever he could, targeting the protected face, stomach, and sides. Anywhere he could land a blow.

"Enough! I surrender!" Connor exclaimed, falling awkwardly to the ground after a vicious punch to his left temple.

Michelle observed his fragile figure curled up on the mat, staining it with blood from his undoubtedly broken nose; then, she shifted her gaze to Arlo, standing next to him, looking down at Connor with empty eyes. He was panting, his face flushed as he watched drops of sweat fall onto the mat.

"What a mess," Michelle whispered, and Sunny turned to look at her, tearing her eyes away from the battered boy in front of her.

"Yeah, I didn't think they'd make us fight to this extent."

"No, I mean the mat," Michelle emphasized, realizing that her friend had interpreted her statement differently.

"Do we have to fight like that too?" Tina, who had sat down next to Michelle, leaned forward to look at Sunny, waiting for an answer. The brunette shrugged.

Michelle thought about how stupid Tina had been to fill herself with earrings and get two piercings at that stage, the only physical one among the three. She would find herself receiving punches from Sunny in a couple of hours, and the girl wasn't stupid; it was obvious that she would target those sensitive areas.

Two Dauntless boys carried Connor to the infirmary. He hadn't lost consciousness, but the blow to his temple had been strong enough to rob him of his balance for a while.

The next two fighters got on the mat without waiting for someone to call them, and only now did Michelle realize what her friend was talking about. Patrik was really big.

In that short week, he had managed to put on an impressive amount of muscle, and Thomas swallowed nervously. Despite this, he showed confidence.

"Begin!" Eric exclaimed, starting to walk around the mat.

Michelle thought that this fight would also last half an hour like the previous one, but Patrik wasted no time and attacked Thomas without giving him a chance to react. He was fast and strong.

Thomas took blows to the throat, making him gasp for breath and stagger. Patrik grabbed him by the arm to pull him closer, elbowing him in the nose, causing more blood to drip onto the mat.

With his left foot, he made him fall and got on top of him, blocking every attempt at defense. Patrik started hitting him in the face, punch after punch, until Thomas stopped trying to defend himself, leaving everyone with a lump in their throats.

"Why doesn't he stop it?" Tina whispered, and Michelle turned to look for Four, but when she didn't see him, she looked for Eric.

What she saw didn't sit well with her at all. Eric was enjoying himself.

"Now that's enough," his voice was almost cheerful, light, very different from before when Connor had withdrawn from the fight.

Four arrived from behind them and bent down to help Thomas, his face disfigured due to swelling and blood, but surprisingly the boy refused assistance and, staggering a bit, got up and headed towards the infirmary on his own.

"Try not to fall into the abyss!" Eric teased, observing Thomas's unstable figure as he moved away from the scene.

"What a jerk," someone whispered in her ear.

"Indeed," Michelle replied to the unfamiliar voice and saw the boy who had sat with them at breakfast. She couldn't remember his name, it was something like Brownie though.

The aforementioned boy got up and got on the mat, soon joined by another boy whom she had never spoken to.

"Who's that?" Michelle asked Sunny.

Sunny turned to her friend, then back to the two boys. "Oh, I think it's Andy? If I'm not mistaken, he was an Erudite with me."

"You don't remember if he was with you?" Tina chimed in.

Sunny shrugged. "I think so, but he was always with the Dauntless. He always hung out with them at school, and if you notice, during meals he's always sitting with them."

"Hmm."

"When you're ready," Four initiated yet another fight, and this time Andy wasted no time. They were both lean but with some muscle, the only physical difference being that Bowie perhaps had about twenty centimeters more than his opponent.

Andy was skilled, but one thing Michelle noticed was that he looked at the point he wanted to hit before striking. However, Bowie seemed unable to grasp his strategy and showed great clumsiness in trying to block the attacks.

She noticed the difference between the first two fights, especially the second one, and this one; here, they seemed like two boys training, fighting against each other without exaggeration, whereas before it seemed like if Eric hadn't ended the fight, one of them would have ended up dead.

Bowie managed to block some blows and even land one himself, but with a quick move, Andy managed to make him lose balance, and when he fell, he hit his head hard on the ground.

"Ow," the boys standing still watching the fight exclaimed.

Bowie grabbed his head with his hands, rolling onto his side. He cursed in pain, and Andy, still standing, turned to look at Eric behind him; the blond nodded at him.

Andy turned back and with a kick to the temple, he knocked out his opponent, celebrating his victory as some of his Erudite friends applauded for him.

Two more Dauntless carried away his limp body. Michelle watched the boy's body being taken away, realizing only now that she would end up below the red line by force, probably becoming the twenty-second with zero points.

Her hands began to tremble at the thought of having to really give her all to make it to the top; initially, she didn't think it would be too difficult, she could easily win by following Lauren and Four's advice, but her fellow initiates were brutal.

She feared the moment when she would have to face Patrik or Arlo, who seemed the most brutal.

She was fast, but their strength was too much to ignore.

"Max, Chloe, on the mat!"

Chloe arrived confident, chest out and head held high, and Michelle hoped with all her might that she would get her ass kicked, and so it was. She managed to put up a good fight against Max, knowing where to strike while the boy acted on instinct, blindly.

But when Max managed to grab her, it was her end.

Chloe got up unsteadily, covering her face, crying. Max's punches had been strong, too strong against her delicate face, and Michelle couldn't hide a satisfied smirk seeing the girl's disfigured face.

It was time for the final showdown, almost three hours after the training began, and it was Sunny's turn to take her place on the mat.

"Good luck," Michelle said, watching her friend rise, who turned to smile at her.

Tina's smile, however, vanished when she realized she would actually have to fight against a friend. "Ready?" she asked.

Sunny didn't answer, waiting for the start of the match. Eric ordered them to begin, and Sunny started circling.

Tina looked worried, her movements uncertain. With each move Sunny made, Tina went on the defensive, ready to block any blow. Sunny struck first, and her opponent covered her face, leaving her abdomen exposed.

And Sunny struck right there.

Tina doubled over, screaming, and soon the gray shirt she was wearing began to darken around the belly button area; she lifted the shirt, exposing the belly button piercing, which was bleeding.

She looked at Sunny with a hurt expression. "What the hell!"

"Stop playing around!" Eric grumbled, annoyed, watching the two girls. Sunny briefly turned to look at the young leader, and Tina took the opportunity to throw a punch.

Sunny recoiled immediately and began hitting Tina, who was too weak to defend herself. She had no defense technique, just raising her hands in front of her face, leaving all other areas exposed, and Sunny repeatedly hit her left ear.

The girl fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Sunny stepped back, continuing to hop around to stay ready in case the girl got back up, but Tina seemed to show no signs of getting up.

Sunny relaxed, lowering her fists and looking at Four, who had moved to her side. "What should I do?" she asked him.

Four sighed and indicated to Max, who was watching the scene angrily, to help him lift Tina up.

"The fight isn't over," Eric said, remaining where he was, his arms as usual crossed over his chest.

Michelle hated to agree with him, but what had just happened couldn't be considered a fight; a couple of punches, and it was over?

"Don't you think it's time to end it?" Four said through clenched teeth as he gently lifted the girl.

"If she can't get up on her own, she can consider herself out of the initiation."

"It's not fair!" Max exclaimed loudly, receiving a deadly glare from Eric, who laughed in his face.

"Not fair?" he laughed. "Your little friend can't make sensible choices, and you think it's fair to let her win?"

"No, but-"

"No buts!" When Eric shouted, everyone fell silent, even the other initiates on the other side stopped to watch the scene from afar. "Either she gets up, or she's out. Her choice."

Eric remained impassive.

Four let go of Tina's arm, making sure she didn't fall to the ground badly, and walked away from the scene. Even Max, with much reluctance, stepped away from the mat.

Tina, still on the ground, sobbed. She tried to pull herself up, very slowly, and Sunny watched, waiting to see what to do.

When she got back on her feet, she wiped away her tears with her sleeve and got back into an attacking position. She lunged at Sunny, but Sunny blocked her, hitting her again on the ear where she had already made her earrings bleed.

Tina fell onto the mat, bringing an end to the fight.

Knowledge pt.5

check out 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: 5.1k

Michelle was nervous at the thought of facing the combat the next day. After witnessing what some of her peers were capable of, she felt somewhat intimidated. She hoped to be paired with someone relatively weak to train with.

Lauren was skilled, very skilled, but she didn't fight to win.

It must have been shortly after 7 pm when Michelle reached the tattoo shop where Tyson worked. Unlike the previous mornings when it was closed, this time it was open to the public.

The place was bustling with Dauntless eager to get a tattoo, and as she made her way through the crowd, she tried to find him near the stations.

To her surprise, however, she found Tori busy working on a tattoo for a girl she had never seen before. The woman looked up as she saw Michelle approaching and offered a brief smile before returning her focus to her work.

"Hey, Michelle. Nice to see you here. Have you decided to get a tattoo?" she spoke slowly, too focused on the tattoo.

It seemed to resemble a snake, although from where Michelle was standing, she couldn't clearly make it out.

"Let's say I have," she replied, taking a seat on one of the nearby stools, clutching the notebook she had recently purchased in her hand.

She had already started jotting down some ideas, hastily and without anything specific in mind. Getting a tattoo was more complicated than she thought; she felt very uncertain about certain aspects, knowing that such work would later be permanently inked on her skin.

It had to be perfect.

"Any ideas? Tyson told me you were working on something. Everything okay, Mia, go to the counter and book the last session," Tori spoke to the girl sitting on the chair, who got up and greeted her monotonously.

Michelle watched the girl leave with a dismissive air.

"Never mind her, she's always like that," Michelle's attention was once again drawn back to Tori, who was now setting up the station for a potential new client. "So, let's see?"

Michelle opened the notebook and showed Tori the various doodles she had made. The woman examined them carefully, occasionally making comments. The style was one she had never seen before, and she quite liked it.

"These are really beautiful, unique," she said, passing the notebook back to Michelle. "Which one would you like to do? So I can start making the stencil."

Michelle flipped through the pages until she reached a drawing that Tori hadn't seen before; she had stopped earlier.

She handed the notebook back to Tori, who carefully observed the intricate lines and details within. At the center of the different lines was the symbol of the Dauntless.

Tori furrowed her brows; the pattern seemed familiar to her, yet she couldn't recall where she had seen it before.

"It's like a map of the place, and the symbol marks where the Pit is," Michelle explained, watching Tori's reaction. The woman's eyes widened slightly as she realized the different corridors leading to the Pit.

"It's...wow," she said, genuinely amazed. Slowly, she tried to trace each tunnel, and indeed, Michelle's drawing was accurate. "Do you want this?"

Michelle nodded, and with her permission, Tori went to make a photocopy of the drawing and then create a stencil. She returned shortly, handing back Michelle's notebook. "Give me one, maximum two days, and you can come to get it done. Where would you like it?"

Michelle pondered for a moment. Her arms were too small to accommodate a tattoo of that size; it wouldn't have the right impact.

"Back," Michelle replied.

"I'll let Tyson know," Tori responded before bidding her farewell to attend to a new client who was patiently waiting beside the station, holding a sheet with the design he wanted to get tattooed.

Michelle returned to the dormitories after briefly stopping by the cafeteria to grab something to eat, trying to follow Lauren's advice as much as possible. She ate a couple of hamburgers and a side before heading to the dormitory for a shower, taking advantage of the fact that everyone had gone to dinner.

The warm water relaxed her muscles, and the smell of sweat quickly washed away, replaced by the scent of cleanliness.

She tried to be as quick as possible to get some sleep; she was undecided whether to go to sleep now as usual or actually use the night to rest. The next day, she would have to face one of her peers, and she didn't know what would be wiser.

Michelle riflected on Arlo and Patrik's fight, the memory of the sound of their fists against their opponent still fresh in her mind. She had to be as prepared as possible; sleeping wasn't an option.

She slipped into bed, closing her eyes and falling asleep for what felt like an eternity, but something disturbed her sleep, causing her to wake up abruptly. When she turned to check the time, she noticed the clock was nearing midnight.

She got up very cautiously, trying to figure out what that sudden noise had been, but not noticing anything particular, she assumed she had imagined it, still half in the world of dreams.

She quickly changed into her clothes and slipped out of the dormitory. The dimly lit corridors at night made her feel a bit anxious; it was true. The occasional blue light that illuminated them was not enough to make her feel safe. She remained stiff-backed, ready to block a possible attack.

As she walked away from the dormitory, she heard another noise similar to the previous one.

She hadn't imagined it then.

It was the door of her dormitory opening and closing. The unmistakable creaking made Michelle flatten against a dark wall, not knowing who it could be at that hour. She heard whispered laughter fading away from the corridor where the dormitories were located. She was puzzled by this. Who were they? What did they want? Would she get into trouble if her absence was noticed?

Ignoring such concerns, she quickened her pace toward the gym accommodations, reaching them in record time to avoid whoever might be in the corridors.

As she did every night, she was relieved to find the gym empty, devoid of life, allowing her to train in peace. She wrapped her knuckles as Lauren had taught her and began hitting the bag for hours, ignoring the burning sensation in her arms.

She needed to be strong, to improve her standing.

She was the only one with so few points; everyone else had already fought, causing them to either rise or fall in the rankings. She, on the other hand, had only fallen, placing her below the red line.

She was no longer tenth; she was eighteenth.

She would have to work her ass off to get back to the top, but she promised herself she would make it. She would do whatever it took to climb back up.

Everything.

"Do you ever sleep?" Michelle jumped in place, hearing a voice from the other side of the gym. She spun around to see who it was, not recognizing the voice. She relaxed when she saw Four entering with a duffel bag.

She shrugged at his question, Four must have figured out her routine. "Lauren told me I'd find you here. You should rest, Michelle," Four said, more as advice than an order. His voice was gentle, as if he genuinely cared about her and her well-being.

"I'm rested," she replied, averting her gaze from his blue eyes.

Four clicked his tongue against his teeth, placing his stuff on a nearby bench. "Come here."

Michelle stopped punching the bag and turned to see what Four meant. She saw him standing on the combat mat, patiently observing her.

Confused, she approached.

"Show me what you can do," he said, getting into an attacking stance, followed immediately by her.

Four lunged at her, trying to grab her, but Michelle followed Lauren's advice and threw a lateral punch to his temple, making him step back.

He gritted his teeth at the impact but quickly recovered, continuing the sparring with her. Once again, he was surprised by her agility and speed. She dodged his blows with ease, and she had improved since the first time he had seen her spar with Eric.

She had refined her technique, attacking instead of always being on the defensive. But Four was good, better than her, and after twenty minutes of exchanging hits, he managed to bring her down.

"Watch out for—."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," she replied, irritated, getting back on her feet. It was the same problem that Lauren had pointed out to her several times: she couldn't focus on attacking and protecting her feet at the same time.

She assumed an attacking stance again, and it was her turn to launch herself at the guy in front of her, putting him in serious difficulty. Michelle landed several blows to his chest, legs, and even one to his throat, managing to regain the upper hand.

But what she didn't know was that Four was holding back, reducing the force of his blows. He wanted her to improve, to make her better, but without hurting her.

He had to admit, though, she was good. She knew what to do, and it was incredible how she could predict almost every one of his moves. She had potential.

And that's when it occurred to him that perhaps the reason they needed to keep an eye on her was precisely for that, for her potential abilities; a member like her was necessary within the faction.

But it couldn't be just that.

Nearly an hour passed before Michelle started to tire, causing her to lose concentration and allowing Four to bring her down, equally exhausted.

Michelle relaxed on the mat, staring at the ceiling when she felt Four sit down beside her, handing her a water bottle.

"It's still early, it's not even three yet. You should go rest," he said.

But Michelle shook her head, getting up and heading back to the punching bag, ignoring Four's bored look. Why was she so stubborn, he wondered?

Four had to admit that he admired her in a way. He saw determination in her eyes and knew she would make her way through the initiation; she hadn't started off on the best foot, but there was time.

He watched her train for a while, then left via the rooftop, leaving the girl to her thoughts.

Unlike Four, Michelle was confused about why he had come there, only to leave after sparring with her. It couldn't have been just for her; otherwise, he wouldn't have arrived with a duffel bag and left via the rooftop instead of returning the way he came.

As she punched the bag, she felt weak, as if her punches, despite all the determination she put into them, were too feeble. She felt restrained, as if something was holding her back from pushing beyond her limits.

She couldn't give it her all, she knew, but she didn't know how to break through that mental barrier.

She kept hitting the bag repeatedly until she couldn't feel her arms anymore and until the sun began to lighten the sky, illuminating the room. She stopped, exhausted, but she was starting to love the sensation. The burning of her muscles was becoming a feeling of comfort for her.

She quickly headed back to the dormitory to take a quick shower and then go to the cafeteria for a hearty breakfast, but her plans didn't go as smoothly as she thought.

As she approached the iron doors of her dormitory, she began to hear a rather loud commotion coming from inside. When she opened the doors, she understood the reason for the agitation.

The entire room was covered in a black dust that had not only stuck to the walls but also to all the initiates present there. She saw Chloe almost in tears as she noticed that the strange substance didn't come off easily from her body, and Michelle looked for Sunny, who was sitting on her bed with a resigned expression.

She reached her as quickly as possible, ignoring the confused looks and unpleasant comments from her peers.

"Why isn't she dirty? She must have something to do with this!"

"It must have been her, for sure!"

"Where the hell was she? Why is she clean?"

When she stood in front of Sunny, the girl smiled at her despite her downcast face. "Funny, huh?"

"What happened?" she asked.

"I don't know, we woke up and suddenly found ourselves covered in this strange powder. It doesn't come off easily, it stains," he showed her his arm, which was no longer black but gray.

Michelle looked around, watching her desperate companions trying to get the substance off themselves.

On the other side of the room, Chloe observed Michelle with hatred and suspicion. She wondered why she was outside and especially if she had organized this prank, a way to skip the sparring that would take place in a few hours.

"You think?" Connor whispered next to her, glancing between her and Michelle.

"Come on, bro, you can't tell me something smells fishy here! She was outside the dorm, she came back just in time to see all of us covered in this stuff, and she's clean," Patrick continued to vigorously rub his face with a wet cloth to try to get rid of the residue.

Chloe huffed, "I agree, it's too much of a coincidence."

The dormitory doors swung open again with such force that they slammed against the wall, drawing the attention of all the teen present. They turned to see who had entered with such vigor, and the room fell into a deathly silence as Eric strode in, followed by Max and Lauren.

He looked around, his expression furious. "Can someone explain what happened?" he said very slowly.

He was trying to restrain himself from shouting at everyone and punishing them for this prank. He was even tempted to make them all Factionless after this. He had never seen anything like it in three years.

No one answered the question until Chloe, convinced of her theory, stepped forward.

She was scared to speak to Eric, especially with his current mood, but she swallowed her fear and began to speak, her voice slightly trembling. "We woke up, and the room was like this, covered in this substance, and..."

"And?" Eric raised an eyebrow, unsatisfied with her explanation. He wanted a culprit, someone to punish for this action.

Chloe glanced in Michelle's direction, who immediately understood what was about to happen. Michelle paled, realizing the trouble she would be in within seconds. She had no way to defend herself.

It was her word against at least three of theirs.

"Michelle was outside the dorm, she came back just in time to see us covered in this stuff... and she's clean," Chloe insisted.

Eric's head turned slowly to find the girl in question, and when he did, indeed seeing her completely clean and dressed for training, he smiled.

Shivers ran down ers spine as she saw his smile. It wasn't a good start.

"Oh really?" His tone was strangely light, cheerful, and Michelle swallowed the lump forming in her throat. What would happen to her?

Before Eric could speak, Max intervened. "Do you have any evidence that it was Michelle? Besides her absence from the dorms?"

"No—" Chloe tried to speak and continue her accusation, but she was interrupted by Lauren.

"Then let's not point fingers at anyone, I believe Michelle has a valid alibi for tonight, right?" Lauren turned to Michelle, expecting an answer, and the girl nodded. "Good, then we'll check her alibi now and then we'll see."

"I don't think that's necessary, it's quite obvious," Eric said, annoyed. "Get up, come with me."

Michelle didn't immediately get up, and the boy looked at her, the smile gone. "Now!" he shouted.

Michelle stood up abruptly, following the blond boy out of the dormitory, hoping that at least Lauren would join them. She kept her head held high as she followed Eric along a series of different corridors until they reached a door on the right.

Someone was following her, she heard footsteps, and she fervently hoped it was Lauren and not Max. She needed someone for support.

Eric opened the door for her, gesturing for her to enter, and feeling very uncertain, she stepped inside, trying not to turn her back on the boy for too long. Inside was a long table with several chairs, and what made her most uncomfortable was how unnervingly calm Eric was.

"Sit down," he ordered, and Michelle complied, taking a seat as far away from him as possible. But of course, the boy had no intention of letting her off so easily and approached her.

Out of the corner of her eye, Michelle saw Max and Lauren enter, which made her feel a little better. How could she testify to her innocence? She would have to ask Four to testify for her.

Max approached them, a serious and bored expression on his face. "Michelle, let's make things clear. Did you do this?"

"No."

"Do you have a way to prove your innocence?"

"Yes."

"How?" Eric asked sharply, convinced that hers was a falsehood.

"Four."

The three leaders looked at each other in confusion.

"Explain," Eric ordered, ready to catch Four in an inquisition and dismiss him.

"I was training, he arrived too, we sparred, and then I returned to the dormitory," Michelle began, unconsciously playing with her cuticles.

Max observed her bandaged knuckles and glanced at Lauren, who nodded and left the room.

However, Eric wasn't satisfied with her brief explanation. "Why were you outside the dormitory in the middle of the night? You know it's forbidden, or do I need to remind you?"

"I was training," Michelle simply replied, trying to remain as calm as possible, not wanting to get agitated and give Eric any satisfaction.

She wouldn't play his stupid game.

"And why?"

"To improve."

Eric clicked his tongue against his teeth. "Oh, because you know you're weak and incapable? Hmm, I can accept that even though I warn you how useless it is in your situation."

Michelle remained still, silent, as she absorbed the young leader's criticism in front of her. She had to try not to be influenced by his words; they were baseless cruelties and she shouldn't give them weight.

He was a jerk, an asshole, selfish, and arrogant. She wanted to smash his face in more and more with every inch he approached her. They were face to face, at the same height, his gray eyes against her blue ones.

Max watched the scene from outside, intrigued.

Their staring match was interrupted after a couple of minutes when the door of the room opened, letting in Lauren and then Four, who seemed anything but happy to be there. Eric straightened up, shifting his attention to his peer, ready to hear what he had to say, but Max spoke up first.

"Four, we've called you here to testify that Michelle was in the training dorms all night. She said you were together at some point," his tone was monotone as he spoke to the boy, Eric beside him crossing his arms, waiting for his response.

The boy briefly glanced at Michelle before returning his gaze to Max's eyes. "Yes, that's true" he said.

Max nodded, perhaps a little unconvinced, before letting them both go their separate ways. But it wasn't him who was most bothered by the situation; it was Eric, who watched Michelle's back as she walked away as if he wanted to plant knives in it.

When the door of the room closed behind them, Michelle released a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, stopping in the corridor to try to understand what had just happened.

Was someone trying to blame her?

"Everything alright?" Four turned back, not hearing her footsteps.

She nodded, resuming walking as if nothing had happened. She had promised herself not to show weakness to anyone, not even Four; his kindness towards her made her suspicious, the way he interacted with her was different from how he did with others.

"We'll find whoever is behind this tasteless joke, you don't have to worry about Eric," he assured.

"I'm not worried," she lied, a big one at that. Eric's hostility towards her was unfounded; she had done nothing to antagonize him other than blocking his blows during training.

But was that really enough reason for him to hate her? As a leader and coach, he should have been proud of her, happy to see that an inexperienced initiate was able to put up some challenge.

They walked in silence through the long corridors until they reached the dormitories again, where the boys were cleaning the strange dust off the walls, their skin speckled with gray patches.

Chloe's excitement faded when she saw Four return with Michelle, still intact, ordering her to go take a shower and then go help the other initiates clean the room.

She was grateful; she hadn't had the chance to change out of the clothes she had trained in that night, and she felt sticky all over, a light layer of persistent sweat on her skin.

"Keep cleaning, when you're done, meet us in the gym!" Four said before leaving.

Chloe threw the rag she was cleaning the floor with to the ground and angrily approached Michelle, grabbing her shoulder and forcefully turning her around before delivering a punch to her cheek.

Michelle whimpered, touching her face. It was the same spot where Eric had hit her earlier in the week, and the bruise hadn't completely faded yet.

"You're sleeping with Four, aren't you?" Michelle stopped to stare at the girl with wide eyes, incredulous to hear her words. "You break the few rules we have, pull this stunt, and still nothing happens to you. You even skipped the fight yesterday, what a coincidence!"

The room fell silent, and Sunny joined Michelle, standing by her side. "What the hell, Chloe?"

"No, I'm not talking to you!" Chloe was furious, pushing Michelle again, and Sunny intervened to stand between them, receiving a slap from Chloe. "Tell me, who? Four or Eric? Huh?"

Michelle looked at her confusedly and smiled, then laughed lightly. Sunny turned to her sharply, never having heard her laugh before. "Chloe, I'm not the whore here," she said, still holding her hand to her cheek.

"What do you mean?" the girl said through gritted teeth, her eyes frantic as she glared at her with anger. Connor and Patrik approached their friend, passing by the group of boys who had formed a circle to watch the argument between the two former Candor members.

Chloe knew exactly what Michelle was referring to. They were no longer in their old faction, but if anyone were to expose that information, her reputation would be permanently stained. Not to mention the trouble it would cause for the other person involved.

Michelle smiled even more, and the brunette next to her shuddered slightly. Her smile, at that moment, seemed sadistic. "You know very well," Michelle said.

Chloe remained silent, straightening up and returning to her original position, not wanting Michelle to reveal that secret out of spite. What worried her the most was one thing: how Michelle could be aware of what had happened during that school year.

"Stay quiet, and we won't have any problems," Chloe said, turning her back to Michelle, effectively putting an end to the small spectacle that had unfolded.

As the crowd of students dispersed, Sunny turned back to Chloe with a puzzled expression. "What have happened to make her react like that? She seemed ready to pounce on you until you mentioned that!"

"She slept with a teacher to pass the year" Michelle replied simply, heading off to finally take a shower. She left her friend behind, mouth agape, as she contemplated the revelation.

Michelle had stumbled upon the secret by chance, her curiosity leading her to the rooftop of their school where she caught them in the act. She wished she could wash her eyes out with bleach to rid herself of the memory.

If the secret were to come to light, it would undoubtedly spark the most scandalous uproar their faction had ever witnessed. Michelle, however, had resolved to keep it buried, seeing no advantage in its exposure. On the contrary, she feared repercussions for herself, for once again venturing into forbidden territory.

Even as she turned the faucet, the echo of their voices from the adjacent room persisted, but she pushed them to the back of her mind. What lingered, haunting her thoughts, were Eric's words—spat with such venom and malice that they cast a shadow of doubt over her very being.

She knew she had to demonstrate her superiority to all. Yet, the path ahead seemed strewn with obstacles.

After finishing her shower, Michelle joined her companions to help with the remaining tasks. They had already completed most of the work before they headed to the gym, almost two hours later than usual.

Upon their arrival, Four and Eric were already present, standing in front of the board with the names of those who would be fighting that day. Everyone was there, even those who had taken a beating the day before.

"Run three laps as warm-up, then come back here!" Four instructed the boys, who started jogging around the room.

Before joining them, Michelle approached the board to check who she would be matched against for the upcoming fight. She drew close to the board under Eric's watchful eye, who observed her with almost disdain.

"Scared of ruining that pretty face?" Eric's hand shot out unexpectedly, catching Michelle off guard as he took hold of her chin to inspect her face, smiling at the fresh bruise. "Oh, it's already ruined. What a shame."

His tone was sarcastic, and Michelle hated the sensation she felt when his hand touched her face. She wanted to rip his hand away, yet at the same time, the warmth it left behind was something she longed to feel again.

When Michelle saw who she was matched against, she scowled. As much as she couldn't stand Tina's shrill voice, at that moment, she wished she could smash someone's face in. Why not the girl who had punched her a couple of hours earlier?

"I want to fight Chloe," she said, looking Eric straight in the eye, who raised an eyebrow, smiling.

"Do you really think you have a say in this?" he chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Michelle contemplated begging him, maybe it would work. "Please," her voice was barely a whisper, and the young leader's smile faded as he straightened up from where he was leaning against the wall.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch it," he said.

"Please, Eric," she said louder, and he observed her, noting her clear eyes and the bruise on the side of her cheek that had broken a few blood vessels in her eye.

He considered her request; she wasn't asking to back out of the fight but to change opponents. He would have said no to anyone else, but his old Erudite mind immediately grasped her purpose.

He arched his lips into a smirk, watching Chloe jog to the other side of the room. It would be amusing to see Michelle take her frustrations out on her companion, especially after accusing her of being involved in the prank.

He turned to look at the initiate in front of him before giving her his back and changing the names on the board. When he turned back, he didn't find Michelle; she had left after getting what she wanted.

"In the center!" Eric yelled, gathering all the initiates. He decided to make a small change to the list. "Chloe and Michelle, on the mat."

Four, who had joined him, looked at him. "That's not the pair or the order," he said, watching the two girls take their positions.

"I don't care," was all Eric said, keeping his eyes fixed on them. "It will be entertaining."

Four looked worriedly at the pair before resigning himself to the situation and watching the match unfold. He couldn't do anything if Eric said otherwise.

The two girls faced each other, Chloe ready in defense, confident she would win the bout. She threw the first punch, but Michelle dodged it, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards her, causing Chloe's fist to collide with her own face.

The girl stumbled back, holding her bleeding nose in her hands.

Michelle felt a surge of satisfaction; striking her opponent's face had given her a sense of fulfillment she had never experienced before. She brought her hands up to her face, ready for a response from her adversary.

Chloe didn't take long to compose herself and launch herself at Michelle, blinded by anger. How dare she behave like this towards her?

For a while, Michelle continued to dodge her blows, careful to observe every move Chloe made. Before attacking, she moved her fingers, as if realigning them after each strike.

She dodged a blow to her temple, but Chloe still managed to catch her off guard, sweeping her feet out from under her. Chloe pounced on her, pinning her to the mat and starting to repeatedly strike her in the face.

Eric smiled at seeing the girl on the ground, finding it ridiculous how it had all ended up like this, while Four walked away, not wanting to witness the scene. It would be hard to get out of that position, especially if the opponent kept hitting you in the face.

"Come on, Michelle!" Sunny cheered, and Michelle, determined not to be overpowered, gathered all her strength. Despite the throbbing in her head, she managed to free one arm and strike Chloe in the throat.

The girl stopped hitting her, rolling to the side with the sensation of suffocating. Michelle seized the opportunity and threw herself on top of her, pinning her down.

Now it was her turn to strike; she felt nothing, a loud ringing filled her ears, her vision was blurred, and her head pounded, but she kept hitting her, harder and harder.

Chloe's hands tried to push her away in every way possible, but by now Michelle had only one thing in mind: to finish it.

It felt as if she were watching the scene from outside herself, unable to stop, but what worried her the most was that she didn't want to stop. She would continue until the last breath left the girl's lips beneath her.

"That's enough," Eric said, observing the scene, Chloe now unconscious on the mat.

He was pleased with what he had seen; he hadn't expected such a reversal, but his almost happiness was cut short when he saw Michelle continue to strike Chloe.

"Initiate, I said enough!" he raised his voice, and Michelle stopped, still not taking her eyes off Chloe's almost unrecognizable, inert body.

She looked up, watching Eric, who nodded for her to move away from the girl. She obeyed, getting to her feet and wiping the blood from her nose with the sleeve of her hoodie.

She was short of breath, and a strong metallic smell invaded her nostrils. Blood.

She left without saying a word to anyone, and no one said anything to her, not even Eric, who let her go.

"I told you, she's capable," Four said upon his return, now worried not only for her well-being but for what she might become.

He had witnessed the final part of the match and saw how Michelle struck Chloe, with pure fury and hatred.

"She's dangerous," Eric said, watching her leave, a smile on his lips. "I don't mind."

That was the beginning of the end for Michelle.

Request are open!

I have never written with requests before, so please be lenient with me!

From today on, I'm open to requests, so I'll leave you below the fandoms I write for. Also, I wanted to inform you that I write for characters I don't know, but it might take me a little longer as I need to research them!

Fandom i write for:

Twilight

Marvel

Harry Potter/Marauders

Divergent

Fandom i know:

Hunger Games

Resident Evil

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Knowledge pt.6

check here 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: 3.4k

Throughout the entire day, Michelle kept to herself, observing her peers one after another engage in combat on the mat. Sunny attempted to stay with her for a while, noticing her seeming shaken as she stared blankly ahead.

She appeared to be in a trance, as if she were inside a bubble isolating her from everyone else.

When six o'clock rolled around, they were dismissed, and Michelle wasted no time in getting up to leave the room, not waiting for anyone. However, a hand on her bicep stopped her. She glanced at the hand that halted her movement and then lifted her gaze, coming face to face with Eric.

"Good job today," he said, his expression devoid of emotion.

She looked at him for a moment before nodding and walking away, freeing herself from his grip.

Eric wasn't pleased with what he had been ordered to do, to go easy on her and keep an eye on her, but after that training session, his curiosity was piqued. He had thought she was weak, inadequate, and useless, but seeing her beat a fellow trainee until she passed out had stirred something within him.

He had seen the look in her eyes, devoid of emotion, her stoic face as she broke her opponent's nose. He liked this side of her.

He glanced at her one last time before turning back to the center of the gym, ready to start training on his own.

Meanwhile, Michelle headed straight to the dormitory, Sunny following behind her with Tina and Max catching up. She just wanted to hurry up, take a shower, and then rush to Tori's place to see if the stencil was ready.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sunny caught up, putting an arm around her shoulders.

She nodded, still staring ahead. She didn't know how to honestly answer her, she didn't even know herself how she felt at that moment; her knuckles tingled, bloody, and she had a strong headache from the blows she had taken.

"Sure?" Sunny insisted, pulling her closer, giving her a sideways hug. "I saw you a bit distant after the match."

The truth was she felt scared, losing control was something that had never happened to her before. When she heard Chloe surrender, she wanted to stop, but seeing her beneath her, bleeding, tears in her eyes, made her feel invincible.

Not even Eric's voice had stopped her with the first blow, too caught up in the euphoria of venting out everything she had endured among the Candor.

Sunny let her go, seeing how she didn't even respond to one-word answers, stopping Tina and Max who wanted to congratulate her. She needed time alone, and she was grateful for Sunny who understood that.

She entered the dormitory and took a seat on her bed, resting her elbows on her knees and burying her head in her hands.

"What am I doing?" she whispered to herself, reliving the images from a few hours earlier.

She retrieved from under the pillow the photo of her and Anne, now slightly crumpled from always having to hide it in inconspicuous places; she missed her, a lot, and she wondered what Anne would have thought if she had seen her in that situation.

She would probably have hated her, but she wouldn't have been able to leave her.

A drop fell onto the photo, and Michelle sniffled, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her hoodie, trying to stop the tears that kept flowing one after another.

She hid the photo and headed to the showers, trying to avoid the gaze of the few initiates present in the dormitory, and got under the water as quickly as possible. It was there that she let go, crying silently and covering her mouth with her hands to muffle the sobs.

She couldn't be weak, she shouldn't be, yet she couldn't stop crying.

She spent more time than necessary under the now cold shower water, the stinging of her bruised knuckles had disappeared, and they had stopped bleeding. She realized that most of the blood on her hands wasn't hers but Chloe's.

She joined Sunny in the cafeteria, taking a seat beside her and Four, who were discussing their plans for the next day.

"...shooting range," Four was saying, but she ignored them, leaving them to their conversation. She wasn't in the mood to socialize, so she grabbed some food and remained in complete silence, hardly making any noise.

She glimpsed Max across from her getting fidgety, speaking in hushed tones with the girl next to him, Tina. Michelle rolled her eyes.

"Really good fight earlier," Max suddenly said, smiling at Michelle when she looked at him. "Awesome," he added with a thumbs-up.

"Yeah, it was so cool!" Tina exclaimed, and Michelle had to refrain from throwing her plate at her to wipe that amused expression off her face.

She watched them in silence, a monotone expression before finishing her meal and getting up. "Hey, no, don't-"

"Tina, stop!" Sunny interjected as her friend left, exiting the cafeteria after barely ten minutes.

"No, I wasn't making fun of her. It was really a good fight," Bowie, the tall guy, rolled his eyes at Tina voice.

"Oh, someone who gets it."

"But why would she react like this? She won!" Max exclaimed, confused.

Four let the forks fall onto his plate, drawing the attention of the table. He looked down before raising his gaze back to the initiates, a sarcastic expression. "She lost control."

"And so?" Max continued.

"And so, if she hadn't stopped, she could have killed her," Four replied, standing up. "Chloe won't be at training tomorrow; she's in the infirmary under observation."

Michelle made her way through the cold and dark corridors with the sole intention of reaching the tattoo shop, knowing that either Tori or Tyson would be there instead of in the cafeteria. She arrived at the brightly lit storefront and was fortunate not to encounter many people during her brief journey.

Entering, she noticed movement inside, and Tyson emerged from behind the counter, his stern expression replaced by a smile as he saw the girl approaching him.

"Michelle, I was hoping you'd stop by tonight," he said, straightening up the counter before moving towards one of the stations. Michelle followed him in silence.

She was tired.

"Tori gave me the stencil, what do you think?" Tyson showed her a sheet with his design on it, only enlarged and with some added details that she really liked. It was her design, just improved.

"I like it," she simply said.

"Do you want to do it tonight?" he began cleaning the station, expecting a yes. "I'm not sure how long it'll take; we've been provided with some new technologies to speed up the process. But it will hurt."

Tyson looked at her, warning her. He wasn't a big fan of the new machines; it felt like they took away his manual skill, but for a tattoo of that size, maybe it was more appropriate.

"That's okay," she wanted to finish it as soon as possible.

He motioned for her to lie face down on the table, and Michelle complied, taking off her hoodie and bra. The table's skin was cold against hers, giving her goosebumps.

"I'll apply the stencil," Tyson wasn't one to talk much, and Michelle was immensely grateful for it, managing to enjoy a couple of hours in silence.

At that hour, few Dauntless came into the shop, many busy resting or partying somewhere else.

She had to admit it was painful, not as much as she imagined, but she still had to hold back from releasing a groan more than once as Tyson passed over a sensitive area on her back.

Tyson followed her closely, his calloused fingers occasionally touching her to ensure the design was in place.

"We should be done," he said, approaching her and sitting on the stool beside her.

Suppressing a satisfied smile, he looked at the enormous tattoo etched on her skin. It had turned out better than he had imagined. He gave Michelle's shoulder a pat to signal her to get up.

"Look in the mirror."

Michelle rose from the table, holding her unfastened bra to her chest to see the tattoo in all its beauty. It was stunning; she stood there with her mouth agape, admiring the long stretches of black ink on her skin.

She was slightly flushed, but other than that, she was unfazed. "It's stunning," she whispered, continuing to gaze at herself in the mirror.

Tyson approached from behind, noticing his reflection in the mirror. He smiled at her. "I'm glad. You have talent, you know? You could come work here after initiation. You have your own style, and I think people here would appreciate it."

Michelle smiled to herself, blushing slightly at the compliment. She went to fasten her bra, but her shoulders were sore, stiffened after two hours in the same position.

"Can I?" Tyson whispered, and Michelle, uncertain, turned around, letting him fasten her bra.

"Thank you," Michelle returned to the station to put on her hoodie and then went to pay, but he stopped her.

"Consider it a gift and an extra reason to get through initiation. It would be a waste of such a tattoo among the factionless," he chuckled, refusing the payment.

Michelle looked at him, slightly confused by the gesture, but she smiled and nodded at him, bidding him farewell.

The corridors were cold as Michelle left the tattoo shop, not that it was anything new, but the noise coming from the Pit compensated for the coldness of that place. She leaned out, trying not to stumble, and saw a large group of Dauntless scattered all over the Pit.

Shouts, laughter, and songs echoed throughout the place. How could she not have heard them?

Michelle spotted some of her peers but decided to ignore them. She wasn't in the mood to celebrate, and to be honest, she never was. She wasn't a fan of parties.

She preferred silence, the ability to be alone with her thoughts. Her mind, already chaotic, didn't need further external distractions like blasting music, sweaty people, and drunkards constantly bumping into her.

It just wasn't her scene.

When she returned to the dormitory, she found only Bowie, the guy who had sat with them at dinner but whom she had never spoken to before. He was lounging on his bed, a book in hand.

She ignored him, taking a seat on her own bed instead, trying to get some sleep. However, it didn't take long for her to realize that sleeping on her back wouldn't be possible that night.

She turned on her mattress, as hard as concrete, before the boy's voice spoke to her. "Aren't you going to celebrate?"

It was monotone, tired.

"No," she replied.

Bowie lowered the book and observed her for a moment, intrigued by the girl who moved through the faction like a ghost. She went unnoticed, didn't linger in crowded places, and certainly didn't talk much.

He would have bet everything he owned that probably only they knew of her existence.

"I understand," he simply said before returning to his book.

Michelle managed to close her eyes, isolating herself from the noise coming from the Pit, and eventually drifted off to sleep. She didn't hear her roommates come back, or Sunny bumping into her bed.

She was immersed in the world of dreams, enveloped in darkness.

Her heart was racing, she couldn't see anything, not even her hands when she brought them to her face, and she started to panic when she felt wetness on them, as if someone had poured something over them.

Then, above her, a faint light appeared, illuminating the room she was in, but she still couldn't see the walls of it.

She lowered her gaze, observing her hands covered in red. The metallic smell invaded her nostrils, and she had to fight back the urge to vomit when she saw the body at her feet.

When she realized she was the one responsible for this, she began to tremble; the body was covered in bruises and blood, the face so disfigured that she couldn't tell whose it was.

Her breath was shallow, her heart racing as she clenched her hands into fists, biting her lip to distract herself from the excruciating pain radiating from her knuckles.

"Ellie?" the girl froze upon hearing that sweet voice, unable to turn around to face her. "Ellie, is that you?"

Tears began to well up in her eyes. She couldn't run, she couldn't hide, and she didn't have the courage to turn around and look Anne in the eyes, covered in blood.

Wasn't bravery supposed to be a defining trait of the Dauntless? To fear nothing?

Yet in that moment, she felt like a coward. She was scared, no, she was terrified of how her best friend might react.

But she turned anyway, very slowly, and when she raised her gaze to meet Anne's eyes, she saw her in tears, her face terrified. Michelle fell to her knees, unable to stand from shaking so violently.

"What have you done?" Anne whispered, keeping her distance.

"Anne-"

"What have you done to me, Ellie?" Michelle stopped crying at that moment, confused.

"What?" she asked, but Anne began to cry louder.

"Why? Why did you do this to me?" It was almost impossible to understand what she was saying, and Michelle turned to look at where Anne was pointing.

When she turned to look at the body, she screamed, falling to the ground, moving as far away from it as possible. She couldn't breathe, and tears began to stream down her face.

"No, no, no," she whispered to herself, pulling her knees to her chest and closing her eyes to try to rid herself of that image.

It wasn't real, it was just a bad dream, but she couldn't wake up. Why couldn't she wake up?

"Look what you've done," Anne whispered in her ear, crying. "Look at me."

Something pulled her hair, forcing her to look at the body a few meters away from her. Michelle struggled to see what was in front of her, her eyes blurred with tears, but her red hair was unmistakable.

"I'm sorry," she managed to say between sobs. She felt her heart shattered, as if someone had taken it and torn it from her chest.

Michelle jerked up from her bed, falling to the floor. She couldn't breathe, feeling her heart pounding out of her chest. She got up and ran to the bathroom.

She turned on the faucet and began to scrub her hands under the water forcefully, ignoring the sharp pain caused by the wounds that were reopening. She tried to stay quiet, suppressing the sobs and moans that escaped her mouth every time she thought of Anne's unrecognizable body.

"It wasn't real, it wasn't real, it wasn't real..." she kept whispering like a broken record. She had to convince herself it wasn't real, just a bad dream. But then why did it feel so vivid?

She could have sworn she remembered the warm blood still on her hands. Anne's blood. "No..." she whimpered at the thought and decided to leave the dormitory, unable to stay silent for much longer.

She didn't even bother to put on a pair of shoes or pants other than her pajama shorts. She ran through the corridors, ignoring the pain caused by the uneven floor under her feet.

Nothing could compare to the pain her heart felt at that moment.

She didn't think about where to go, but her feet led her to the chasm. She stopped to observe it, not understanding why she had ended up there, but she decided to stay, sitting on the metal walkway overlooking the rushing water.

It would take just a small push to end her life; someone could come up behind her and give her a gentle nudge to make her fall. Yet she didn't care.

She pulled her knees to her chest and resumed crying, ignoring the cold that the current brought with it; she had goosebumps.

Her sobs were barely audible over the crashing water against the rocks. She felt powerless in that moment, a feeling entirely different from the one she had felt that morning when she had felt invincible, with Chloe's life in her hands.

Maybe this wasn't the place for her. Maybe she was right to think she wouldn't make it through initiation.

Maybe Eric was right.

Michelle, however, was unaware that she was being watched by the latter. Eric observed her through the cameras in the control room, with Four seated in front of him.

"Is she planning to jump?" Eric asked, raising an eyebrow. He had to admit he was confused to see her so broken when just a few hours earlier he had seen her stronger than ever.

"I don't think so," Four replied, rising from his seat.

Eric watched him leave. "Where are you going?"

Eric's colleague stopped and turned to look at him, wearing a serious expression. "I'm going to make sure she doesn't seriously jump."

Eric scoffed. "Too bad for her. We can't babysit initiates who can't handle everything, Four. We can't have weak links in here."

Four looked at him and chuckled, incredulous and annoyed. "Not everyone is a sociopath like you, Eric. Michelle lost control with Chloe, you saw it yourself, she wasn't herself! What did you expect her reaction to be?"

He resumed walking towards the cliff to find Michelle, hoping her plans weren't really to jump. It would be a shame, especially because Jeanine Matthews would be furious with them.

Michelle was important to their leader, but they didn't yet know why.

Four walked through the cold and dark corridors in silence, contemplating what to do once he reached the girl. The most important thing was to get her away from the cliff to avoid the greater danger, then he would have to figure out a way to calm her down.

He was surprised not to find her in the gym that night, which is why he decided to go to the control room to try to find her, to make sure everything was okay. It wouldn't be the first time another initiate had attacked someone potentially better than them.

When he arrived at the cliff, he stopped; the girl no longer seemed to be crying, instead, she was gazing into the void below her. A few drops of water had landed on her legs, making her even colder, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Michelle couldn't get that nightmare out of her head, now imprinted in her mind like a branding iron.

Ignoring the footsteps approaching, Michelle recognized the figure of Four, and certainly he wouldn't be the one to push her off. He took a seat beside her, letting his legs dangle from the walkway, but he didn't say anything.

He watched her, the typically apathetic and stoic expression he often saw on her was no longer present; her eyes were red and swollen, still watery, and furrowed brows betrayed her torment. He didn't know her well, only a couple of weeks, yet he would have sworn he couldn't see the day she would fall apart. Now, next to her, Michelle had started to crack.

"This isn't a good place to be alone," he said softly, not wanting to disturb her too much, but now his main mission was to get her away from the walkway.

Michelle didn't respond.

Four sighed and stood up, offering her a hand that she didn't even look at. "Michelle, I don't have time to waste," he said, annoyed.

Her silence was agonizing normally, but in that moment it was a hundred times worse. How could he help her get back on her feet if she didn't tell him what was troubling her?

He looked around for a strategy to get her to stand up, then he looked at her, narrowing his eyes as he saw black lines peeking out from under her hoodie. A tattoo couldn't have caused such a reaction.

So what was it?

"Please..." he whispered, rubbing his eyes, tired from the long day. He wanted to go to sleep, to lie down in his bed and finally relax his muscles, but now Michelle was a priority, she and her safety.

At his plea, she stood up, avoiding his gaze out of shame. She felt her cheeks burning since he arrived, embarrassed to have been found in such a state. At least she didn't cry in front of him.

They walked in silence through the faction's corridors, ignoring the tense atmosphere that had developed between them. Michelle slouched, ignoring the occasional glances her instructor threw her way.

It didn't take them long to reach the dormitory doors, and Michelle tried to open the door, but Four stopped her, turning her towards him. His ocean-blue eyes scrutinized her, and Michelle got lost in them.

"Are you okay?" he asked her in a low voice, leaning closer to be heard. He didn't want to wake anyone inside the dormitory given the late hour.

Michelle looked at him carefully, sniffing uncertain of what to say or whether to respond. She just wanted to be left alone at that moment, to have some time to herself, and she was tired, damn if she was tired.

Yet the idea of going back to sleep made her feel nauseous, the images still fresh in her mind. She nodded slightly, but Four didn't believe her and was about to ask her another question when they were interrupted by a voice to their right.

"What do we have here?" Eric chirped, stepping a few paces closer to them, closely observing their proximity. Michelle immediately recoiled, feeling the judgmental gaze of the leader, anticipating a tasteless comment about to escape his mouth.

Four looked at him defiantly. "Nothing, and you know it," he replied through clenched teeth, irritated by his colleague's childish behavior. He was unbearable.

"Well, she certainly didn't seem fine," he said, looking at Four before turning his gaze to Michelle, observing her from head to toe. "You could have chosen better; it won't last long. Bad choice."

He chuckled, noticing Michelle lowering her gaze, offended by the offensive comment towards her. His words shouldn't have hurt so much, yet she found herself holding back tears once again that evening.

She turned on her heels and entered the dormitory, not wanting to endure Eric's presence for more than a second. Eric was like acid in a certain way, attractive and toxic at the same time.

Something you wanted to study thoroughly to understand why it was so toxic, corrosive, yet Michelle knew it would be a terrible idea. But she wasn't stupid; she felt the way his touch on her skin set her on fire and his comments struck closer to her heart than they should have.

The two boys watched the initiate enter the dormitory, cautiously closing the door behind her without saying a word; not that it was anything new.

Eric turned to look at Four, arms crossed in front of his chest and one eyebrow raised, but his colleague ignored him, brushing past him and making sure to give him a shove.

The blonde watched him go, then shifted his attention to the dormitory door through which Michelle had just entered. Why was he so intrigued by her?

Perhaps it was the fact that Jaenine was equally interested in her, sparking a deep curiosity in him, or maybe it was the fact that he knew nothing about her. He didn't see her around much, she spent little time with her peers, and it seemed like Lauren adored her for some strange reason.

What was so special about Michelle?

Knowledge pt.7

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: 4.9k

The tattoo healed surprisingly well, and before long, Michelle was back to her full strength. She was starting to get used to this strange routine: training, eating, training, sleeping, eating, and training again.

It was odd but satisfying. She was finally finding balance in her life, finding peace after sleepless nights plagued by the nightmare that still haunted her. Every time she thought about it, she felt powerless because it was true: what had she become?

The Michelle from a few weeks ago would never have hit a fellow teammate just for the sake of it, just to see her suffer after the years of isolation she had caused her.

She had become strong, was becoming strong. She used the advice Lauren gave her secretly during their occasional nighttime meetings, and thanks to her, Michelle managed to astonish many of her peers when she defeated Bowie, even though it was a bit of a struggle.

But what surprised her the most was Eric's expression. Instead of being proud or even a little satisfied with how she had beaten the boy, he looked at her almost with disdain. She hated that his revolting gaze made her feel so awful.

It was wrong. Eric was a jerk, and no matter how handsome he was, he was still Eric. Someone to avoid.

"You're improving!" Sunny exclaimed, grabbing Michelle by the shoulders and shaking her before hugging her joyfully. In less than two weeks, Michelle had managed to get back in the game, crossing the red line and returning to the top seven. "I'm proud of you."

"Me too," Michelle replied, returning the hug. Sunny was just below her, in ninth place, after taking several beatings from her teammates. However, she managed to maintain a high rank thanks to her precision with firearms.

Michelle, on the other hand, couldn't boast the same. She felt more comfortable with a blade in her hand; the cold metal gave her chills, especially when she pressed the sharp edge against her palm, trying to see how long it would take to draw blood.

Michelle often wondered what would happen if she let her thoughts take over, if she sank the knife's blade into her palm or put the barrel of the gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

These thoughts were new; they made her uneasy, slightly disturbed by her own mind. Yet, every time she picked up a weapon, she wondered the same thing.

What would happen if?

She stared at the target in front of her, the sound of blades falling to the floor making her ears ring. It was annoying, a continuous tinkling of varying intensities.

Michelle assumed the correct position and took aim, unaware of Four standing behind her, observing her closely. She threw the blade, hitting the target straight in the head. She smiled to herself but immediately stepped aside when she heard the rough voice of her trainer behind her.

"Not bad," he said, taking a place beside her to inspect the target. Every hit was on point, all lethal. "Well done."

He moved over to Sunny, who wasn't having as much luck. She wasn't bad—most of her throws hit the target, but just as many fell to the ground clumsily, making Michelle wince.

Michelle looked around, waiting for the right moment to retrieve her blades, and took the opportunity to glance at her teammates. Some were doing better than others, undoubtedly.

Andy was probably the best among them, after her, in her opinion. Next to him, Arlo and Bowie were trying their best, mimicking their friend's movements in an attempt to land a lethal hit.

Finally, as she scanned the gym, she saw the devil.

Eric was leaning against one of the columns, cleaning a sharp blade with a small cloth. He kept his head down, focused on his task, and for the first time, Michelle saw him with his guard down. Without his murderous glare, puffed-up chest, and broad shoulders covered by a black hoodie, he wasn't that intimidating. Michelle would have sworn that the young leader could read minds because he suddenly lifted his head, looking around until he locked eyes with her.

His eyes, cold as ice, observed her from a distance. He glanced at her target, and he had to suppress a look of surprise when he saw most of the hits were lethal.

Michelle continued to be a surprise, and Eric hated surprises. She looked away first, hearing the tinkling of blades hitting the floor cease. She seized the moment to go retrieve her blades embedded in the target.

The blonde shifted his gaze to the ranking board, searching for her name among the top five. He hated to admit it and would never say it out loud, but he was pleasantly surprised by the girl; in just a few days, she had climbed two spots, moving from seventh to fifth place.

She had potential, perhaps too much for his liking.

"Alright, everyone, that's it for today!" Four shouted as he returned to the table where he indicated they should leave their blades. He stopped Max. "You stay here and clean," he ordered, and when Max started to protest, he cut him off again. "No buts, no ifs. There are rules, and if you break them, there are consequences. Now clean."

Sunny, after placing her blades on the table, ran over to Michelle, and the two friends began walking toward the exit. Training was over for the day.

"What happened?" Michelle asked. "To Max." She had noticed his new black eye, but given they were in training, it could easily be the result of one of his recent encounters.

"Yesterday around lunchtime, he started a fight, insulted some Dauntless guys, and let's just say they didn't take it well. He got quite the beating—it's a miracle they didn't break his nose," Sunny shrugged. "You had already left by then."

Michelle nodded, not very interested in the interaction. She had already talked to Sunny about it; she had little interest in Max and Tina. Any sympathy she had started to feel for Tina had completely vanished when she began complaining every single day.

Tina had become insufferable, and Sunny seriously considered adopting Michelle's routine to avoid her as much as possible, fully aware that Michelle's routine was borderline insane. Only someone not entirely sane would push themselves to such limits.

That evening at dinner, there was a strange atmosphere in the cafeteria, especially at one particular table. Eric, Lauren, and Four were whispering among themselves, intent on discussing something secret and watching the initiates closely.

Michelle paused at the entrance of the cafeteria, confused by their behavior; she wouldn't normally have noticed or been curious about them, but they were their trainers, so their conversation must have been about the initiates.

"Elle?" Michelle whipped her head around, startled by the all-too-familiar name. Sunny was watching her, puzzled. "Everything okay?"

"Don't call me that," she said, perhaps more harshly than intended, walking past Sunny toward an empty table. She huffed when she saw that the table she usually used was occupied by Tina and a group of other initiates.

"Michelle!" She stopped again, rolling her eyes at having to move to another part of the cafeteria. She turned and saw Lauren beckoning her over. Cautiously, she approached their table under Eric's vigilant gaze.

She stopped in front of their table, acutely aware that several eyes were on her. Lauren smiled at her. "Tonight, don’t sneak out. Stay in the dormitory, okay?"

Confused, Michelle started to ask why, but Eric's firm and authoritative voice cut her off. "That's an order. Return to your seat, initiate."

As Michelle walked away from the table, Lauren turned to the young leader. "Can't you ever be nice, Coulter?" she said, flipping her long hair to the side and playing with it absentmindedly.

"Where's the fun in that?" Eric replied with a malicious smile. It wasn't a true smile; it was more of a sneer that didn't reach his eyes or light up his face as it should have.

"They're not pieces of meat to play with," Lauren retorted, stabbing her fork into her hamburger. "And what's your problem with her anyway?"

Four turned, curious to hear the answer, if Eric would even give one. The slight smile vanished from Eric's face, replaced by his usual mocking expression, almost amused at seeing someone think they could mind their own business.

He sprawled in his chair, legs spread under the table, making Four pull back to avoid contact. "Jeanine wants to keep an eye on her, and I think you already know that. The fact that she's being handled with kid gloves is infuriating."

“Aren’t you glad you can’t torture a little girl? What a shame,” Four remarked, standing up from the table, but Eric’s arm shot out, blocking him. “Watch how you speak, Four.”

His voice was icy, his gaze murderous. Anyone else in Four's position would have fled in fear of Eric’s wrath, but Four stared him straight in the eyes, swallowing hard.

“Thanks for the reminder,” he replied sarcastically, shrugging off Eric’s arm and leaving the cafeteria. His exit drew curious glances from several Dauntless members, having caused a minor commotion.

Lauren’s giggle caught Eric’s attention as she shook her head and stood up as well. “Unbelievable, truly unbelievable. See you tonight, Coulter.”

She patted him on the shoulder as she walked past before leaving for good. Eric followed shortly after, retreating to his quarters to rest before the evening’s events.

He smiled to himself, anticipating that they would definitely have some fun tonight.

Michelle lay on her bed, fully dressed and on top of the covers. She knew, she felt, that something was going to happen. Their trainers whispering among themselves, the early end to training, and the directive to stay inside the dormitories all pointed to it.

She stared at the bunk above her, motionless, waiting for something to happen.

Tick. Tock.

Midnight.

Tick. Tock.

One minute past midnight.

Tick. Tock.

Two minutes past midnight.

Tick. Tock.

She was going mad, the ticking of the clock on the wall slowly carving its way into her mind. She could hear her heartbeat, her breathing, syncing with the clock’s ticking.

She got up, unable to stay in bed another minute, waiting for something that might not even happen. She walked around the room as quietly as possible, hearing the faint sound of her boots on the cold floor.

It was cold, very cold, and Michelle wasn’t sure if it was because the entire Dauntless base was carved into rock and built with concrete. But damn, it was cold. She soon found herself with goosebumps, wearing only a simple T-shirt.

The dormitory was too small. She found herself pacing it at least twenty times, and when she turned to check the time, the clock showed just twelve eleven.

She rolled her eyes, putting on her leather jacket, and decided to leave that small room. It was late, and their trainers probably wouldn't show up. She mentally scolded herself for overthinking and jumping to conclusions too quickly.

She marched towards the door but stopped in her tracks when she heard voices outside. She immediately recognized Eric's cold tone, accompanied by what she thought was Lauren's laughter.

Her heart started pounding in her chest, not wanting to be caught disobeying orders. She looked around as the voices and footsteps grew louder and closer, then decided to press herself against the wall adjacent to the door.

The metal door burst open, slamming against the wall, and some of her companions stirred at the noise. "Get up, you good-for-nothings, wake up!" Eric started banging what Michelle recognized as a rifle against the stair railing, making a loud metallic clanging.

Michelle winced at the unpleasant noise, which soon stopped.

"Where the hell is she?" Eric demanded through gritted teeth, glaring at the empty bunk. He scanned the room, furious at her insubordination. Before he could say anything else, Lauren chuckled again.

"What the hell are you laughing at?" he snapped, irritated, but she ignored him. "Hello, Michelle, been up long?"

Eric whipped his head in the direction Lauren was facing, spotting Michelle leaning against the wall with the most serene expression. He looked her over from head to toe, noting that she was already dressed and ready to go.

Eric arched an eyebrow in surprise. "Well, what do we have here?" he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not getting enough sleep, huh? It shows."

Michelle grimaced at the young leader's unpleasant comment, fully aware of her exhausted appearance. She shrugged, trying to appear indifferent to his words.

What infuriated Eric the most was her lack of reaction. Her gaze was empty, devoid of emotion, as she observed those around her and listened to what people had to say. She seemed like the most boring person imaginable.

Michelle watched out of the speeding train, the screeching of the rails giving her a slight headache, but she didn't want to miss the sight of the city at night. The downtown buildings were illuminated amidst the apocalyptic landscape, a view she rarely got to enjoy.

The last time she had such a clear view of the city at night was with Anne, the night before the test—the last carefree time they spent together.

She looked around at the groups of teenagers in the train car and thought about how young they all were. They were training, fighting each other to the blood, and they were only sixteen years old. Was this really their fate? To grow up too fast for a society like theirs?

Michelle often wondered what life was like before the war, when the world was united, and everyone lived life as they wished. Teenagers went to school, had fun, made mistakes, and it was okay. Now, each of them carried the weight of their faction on their shoulders.

"Alright, listen up, everyone!" Four's voice boomed inside the car, catching Michelle's attention, though she didn't move from her spot near the door. "Today, we're going to play a game. Some of you might know it. Capture the Flag."

As protests arose from the younger group, Eric stepped in, pushing off the wall he was leaning against. "But with our twist." He dragged duffel bags into the center of the small circle that had formed. "Each of you will be given one of these. You won't kill each other. They are designed to shoot a dart that simulates the pain of a bullet, so you definitely don't want to get hit. The team that captures the opponent's flag wins."

"It's a strategy game. We'll split you into two groups. One will get off first to plan their strategy, while the other will get off in a different area to do the same. You'll have half an hour to organize." Four began distributing the rifles, similar to those used in their training. "Eric and I will make the teams."

Eric smiled arrogantly. "You go first. I wouldn't want to take away your only possible advantage."

"Chloe," the girl smiled, moving to stand behind Four.

"James," a boy Michelle had never seen before positioned himself beside Eric. The game would be more interesting mixing the children of the Dauntless and the transfers, comparing different strategies and strengths.

Four then called Lauren, giving her a high-five as she took her place beside him. He shot a quick glance at Michelle, avoiding Eric's gaze, which followed his trajectory and smirked mischievously upon seeing the person of his interest.

Perhaps it was a mean trick, a stupid choice, but Eric called Michelle solely to spite his opponent. The girl looked up, equally surprised, but remained by the door, watching the blonde with suspicion and distrust.

"Unexpected," said Four. "Do you want to blame someone in case you lose?"

"Yes, we can say so," Michelle felt offended by Four's comment, not expecting such little consideration from him, especially considering she had only shown sympathy towards him.

"Maybe you're not as special as you thought," the voice in her head told her.

She returned her gaze outside, curious about which part of the city they would end up in following the rails; they weren't too far from the Abnegation houses, maybe about twenty minutes away.

The two 'leaders' continued calling names one after the other, and Michelle sighed at the idea of being on the team with almost only children of Dauntless. She didn't know anyone except for Andy, who, in any case, she hadn't had the chance to get to know yet.

"Now, Four's group will get off first, while we'll get off at the next stop. Understood!" They nodded in unison, and shortly after, Four's group disembarked from the moving train, leaving the remaining kids to wait.

"We'll get off in a square surrounded by tall buildings," Eric said, buttoning up his jacket to protect himself from the cold night. "We have to win, your safety depends on it."

A couple of guys exchanged worried glances at the young leader's premise. It didn't take them long to understand that losing was not an option; they would have to do everything in their power to win, and there were no discussions about it.

"The area is surrounded only by buildings, so keep your eyes open for their flag," Eric pulled out a green flag from the bag, and Michelle was intrigued by the strange material. He passed it to several teammates, each of them touching the peculiar fabric. It almost seemed like luminescent velvet.

He passed it to Andy, taking a moment to carefully observe his teammates, noticing how, even among the few women present, she was the smallest. Not the shortest, fortunately.

"Let's go, move!"

The group followed his orders, leaping out of the moving train, landing on their feet or rolling on the concrete floor. They turned on the small lights on their jackets, emitting a faint glow to better observe their surroundings.

They gathered in a circle in a small square.

"Let's climb a building and put the flag there, simple. Then, from the other side, we'll check where they've hidden theirs," said one guy.

"The structures are unstable, idiot, you can't just climb them!" a girl elbowed him. "In my opinion, putting it on the ground is the best option; they'll expect us to put it up high."

"Shitty strategy," growled Eric. "But it's probably the one Four and his group will follow, so find something better."

Michelle distanced herself from the group, deciding to start exploring the area in search of a good vantage point; she felt a strange excitement inside her. It had been months since she had been able to explore an abandoned place, let alone go out at night.

The designated area was relatively small, and the two groups would have to play their positions well to hide the flag and win. She shifted the rifle so it wouldn't hinder her, entering an old building.

Her teammates' voices were now indistinct.

Sighing, she saw that the stairs were unusable, forcing her to exit and find another way in. It was a beautiful structure, tall and distinctly unique, modern despite its age.

"What are you doing?" Michelle turned abruptly, raising the rifle in the direction of her interlocutor, but immediately lowered it when she saw Andy's surprised expression. "Woah, calm down. The boss wants to know what the hell you're doing."

"The boss?"

"Eric? Anyway, what are you trying to do?" He approached her.

"A lookout point, to get a better view of the area," she said, walking away. She wanted to position herself more towards the center, allowing her to have a total view of the area around her.

She resumed walking, ignoring Andy's sigh as he hurried back to the group still busy working on a strategy. At that pace, they would fall behind, losing any advantage they had.

The night was cold, and Michelle reproached herself for only wearing a T-shirt under her leather jacket, trying to warm up by running around the designated area. She reached what she thought was the center, which was full of old containers surely brought there during the war.

She listened in silence to the deserted city, hearing no noise, she decided to enter one of the buildings to climb it. She chose the tallest building, but when she entered, she froze in her tracks.

The entire structure was completely engulfed in darkness.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, she advanced, shining the light in the direction of the stairs.

"There's nothing. There's nothing. There's nothing," she continued to repeat to herself in a low voice, keeping her gaze low on her feet to carefully observe where she stepped. They were old buildings, very old, and also unstable.

Michelle climbed the stairs, one flight after another, until she reached the roof. Stepping out, she took in a deep breath, relishing the clean night air that the city offered; she looked up at the sky, fascinated by the stars illuminating the night.

"The view might just be worth it," she whispered to herself, moving closer to the roof's edge and crouching down to avoid being seen. Using the scope of her rifle, she scanned the perimeter, taking advantage of the night vision.

She observed the interior of the buildings through the windows and soon spotted the opposing team's flag, fluorescent orange, hanging from a window. She wondered how she hadn't seen it before; from ground level, it must have been clearly visible.

Shifting her gaze away from the flag, she noticed movement inside the building; someone was guarding the flag. At the base of the building, she saw more movement, people hiding behind columns, ready to defend their flag.

On the other side of the small square where several containers were abandoned, she recognized some members of her team hiding behind them, initiating the actual game. Shots rang out from both sides, and Michelle used her advantage to advance her team.

Taking aim, she shuddered at the thought of hitting the wrong person and jeopardizing the game. They couldn't afford to lose due to her mistake.

She fired at a boy she thought was Bowie, trying to stop Eric, who took on the task of advancing as far as possible. She sighed, nervous at the thought of hitting Eric instead of the enemy, realizing it would be a grave mistake.

Eric hid behind a container, ignoring the commotion around him, preparing to shoot the initiate as soon as he turned the corner. But before he could raise his rifle, the boy appeared, falling to the ground in pain.

For a brief moment, Eric glanced behind him, confused about where the shot had come from, but he didn't let himself get distracted and continued on his path.

Michelle did her best to help her teammates, shooting anyone who came too close, but her attention returned to Eric, defending his back to ensure he reached the entrance of the building. Then he would be on his own.

No one seemed to realize her presence, her advantage of being up high, and she smiled to herself when she heard someone from the opposing team shout about a sniper.

Michelle looked back at Eric, taking out a boy crouched behind a column with a shot to the shoulder; at that moment, Eric raised his arms in frustration, annoyed by anyone who continued to shoot.

He turned several times, searching for the person responsible for those shots, but each time there was no one. Until something came to his mind, a person from his team who had been missing from the start, and he looked up at the roofs of the surrounding buildings.

There, at that moment, he managed to see a dark figure peeking slightly over them, and involuntarily he smirked mischievously, not expecting such a strategy from her; he was convinced the girl had gone into hiding, returning to the opposing team to reveal the location of their flag.

Instead, she was there to pave the way for him.

He nodded in approval, indifferent to whether she saw it or not.

Michelle blushed slightly when she saw Eric gaze in her direction, a nod of approval before he disappeared into the structure, preventing her from helping him further.

"Well done," Sunny said as they returned to the Intrepid base, feeling a bit tired and disappointed from losing the challenge. "Where were you? Guarding the flag?"

"No," Michelle simply replied, wrapping an arm around her in an attempt to lift her spirits. "I saw everything," she whispered in her ear, receiving a playful slap on the arm from her side.

Michelle chuckled as she remembered her fall on the stairs, giving Eric the perfect opportunity to grab the flag. It had been embarrassing for her, both because of the poor impression she made in front of the young leader and because it made his victory easier.

"Forget about it!" she exclaimed, pulling away from her and laughing. "You mustn't tell a soul what you saw. You have no idea how humiliating it was to fall in front of him," she covered her face with her hands, continuing to laugh to try to forget the embarrassment.

At the back of the line, Eric watched the young girl, his fingers stroking the soft velvet of the opposing flag. He felt caught off guard by her actions, genuinely surprised by the strategy she had decided to adopt in just a few minutes.

"Stop it, or you'll create a hole in her head," Lauren slowed her pace to walk alongside him, noticing how he was keeping an eye on Michelle. "What's on your mind?" she asked, seeing his puzzled, almost annoyed expression.

"Michelle was on the roof," he simply said. "She was the one leading us from above."

Lauren smirked. "In other words, we won thanks to her," she shifted her gaze to the girl, smiling. "She's not as bad as you think, you know? We know you're not fond of the initiates, but Michelle is sharp."

"Well, don't get your hopes up too high. She's good, smart, and thinks quickly, but she's not at the top of the leaderboard—"

"Almost. She's almost at the top of the leaderboard, and after today, she'll rise to fourth place, one step away from the podium. I don't know why you're so fixated on the idea that initiates are worthless," Lauren stopped, forcing him to do the same. "You were an initiate too, and nobody discredited you for being new here. In fact, you had people who believed in you. I believed in you, and damn if I was right! You're the youngest leader this faction has ever had."

Eric looked at her in silence, biting his cheek, hating that Lauren was right. "Give her a chance, harness her potential, and see what a bright future she could have here."

She looked at him defeated, tired of his continuous sadistic and tough behavior, thinking it could be of help to him or his position. "You need to let go of what's behind Jeanine's request. None of us know what she wants from her, why she wants her results regularly, or why she's so interested in her. It's none of our business, especially not yours."

“Not–”

“Eric, put aside that Erudite mindset; it doesn't serve you much here, and you know very well that asking too many questions isn't a good thing, even in your position," the girl whispered, pointing a finger at him as a warning.

She moved, making space when she saw someone approaching them out of the corner of her eye. To her great surprise, she recognized the slender figure of Michelle, who was no longer wearing her gear, but instead a simple black tight-fitting shirt and a pair of black sweatpants.

“Four is asking for you to join him,” she said simply, her voice barely above a whisper, afraid of interrupting an intimate moment between them. She hated even the idea, feeling guilty for wanting to be in Lauren's place.

“Sure, let's go, Eric. You can complain to your best friend,” Lauren joked, resting a hand on Michelle's shoulder, inviting her to lead the way through the cold corridors.

Eric remained a few steps back, observing the girl's back, whom he tried to hate more and more, but curiosity was high, more than hatred. Michelle was unique, something about her caught his attention and drew him toward her.

"Excited for the visits tomorrow?" 

Michelle looked at her confused. "Visiting day? It's when families come to say their final goodbyes," Lauren explained, still texting away, ignoring how the girl beside her seemed anything but enthusiastic.

Michelle walked straight, chin up, trying not to think about her mother. She would bet gold that the woman wouldn't show up, glad to have relieved herself of a burden when she left, yet she couldn't stop thinking that maybe she wanted to see her one last time.

To show her that she had changed, that the Ellie she knew no longer existed. That she couldn't lock her up in that cage she called home anymore.

Michelle was free.

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.

Knowledge pt.9

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: 6k

The music from the Pit echoed throughout the faction, ensuring everyone in the area could hear the party beginning.

Michelle sat on her bed, watching her companions prepare. Some were enthusiastic about passing the first module and ready to celebrate, while others stared blankly ahead, aware of the reality they had to face.

She wanted to sympathize with them, to feel sorry seeing them so lost for not passing the initiation and about to become outcasts in a few hours. But Michelle wasn’t good with emotions, especially those of others. She simply watched them, as usual.

Some had already left, running out of the dorms to head to the party that had already started. But she, along with Sunny and Tina, stayed behind, not in a rush to join the others. Michelle wasn’t too thrilled about the party; she wasn’t the type for such things, preferring peace and quiet.

However, as much as she hated to admit it, the two girls had a point. Such a party only happened twice a year, both times celebrating the new Dauntless officials at the end of the two modules.

“What do you think?” Sunny asked, standing in front of her bed and twirling to show off her dress. Michelle smiled slightly and nodded in approval before getting up to change into her outfit.

She felt exposed. The skirt covered almost nothing, barely reaching below her butt, and she was grateful for the built-in shorts that made her feel a bit more comfortable. The top, though flattering, seemed to reveal too much.

She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror, taking in her pale skin and the dark circles under her eyes. Her straight hair fell over her shoulders, partially covering her exposed back.

Her attention shifted from her reflection when Sunny entered the bathroom with a small bag in hand and a mischievous smile. “Now for the makeup! Come here and sit down, I’ll bring some life back to you.”

“Sunny—”

“No, I won’t hear it!” Sunny exclaimed, opening the bag and pulling out makeup. “Tonight, you need to be your best self, and maybe you’ll even find someone,” she sang, and Michelle wondered why the two girls were so insistent on this. Did she really seem that miserable alone?

It didn’t matter to her, not really, just like she didn’t care about her former companions who would disappear from their lives tomorrow. She shouldn’t care, because one thing her friends didn’t know was that, in the end, someone did occupy a part of her thoughts.

In a very deep and isolated part of her mind, a pair of icy blue eyes looked at her with disapproval, repeating the veiled insults he always threw her way. Yet, at the same time, she couldn’t forget those moments when she saw a glimmer of pride and something else she couldn’t decipher.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice Sunny step back to get a better look at her, smiling to herself before calling Tina into the bathroom. “Tada! A new Michelle!”

Tina's eyes widened. “Damn, you're good!” she said, turning to Sunny. “You look amazing, Mich. Now, let's go. The party started two hours ago.”

The two girls headed out of the bathroom after one last check in the mirror, but one of them noticed Michelle still standing there, immobile. “Coming?”

“I’ll meet you at the Pit,” she said quietly, staring at her reflection. Sunny hadn't gone overboard, but she had done enough to highlight her features. Her gaze, now enhanced with mascara, black eyeliner, and eyeshadow, looked harder, emphasizing her light eyes.

Sunny had also applied a dark brown lipstick. The makeup created a stark contrast with her pale skin, and for a moment, Michelle contemplated wiping it all off. She couldn't see herself as normal like this; it didn’t feel like her. But then she thought that maybe, for one night, she could be a little different.

She returned to her bed and sat down, putting on the heels they had picked up that afternoon, checking to make sure she could actually walk in them. Once she felt confident enough in her balance, she sat on the bed again. This time, she lifted the pillow and took out the photo of her and Anne from underneath.

As the weeks passed, the photo was getting more and more worn, with a white stripe now visible in the corner from being folded too many times.

It hadn’t been that long since their last meeting, yet Michelle felt light-years away from her best friend, her sister. She wondered how Anne was doing, what she was doing at that moment, and whether she was living the life she wanted.

Because Michelle, at that moment, was living both her dream and her nightmare simultaneously.

Her heels echoed through the empty hallways, though the sound was quickly drowned out by the music. When Michelle peered into the Pit, she felt her heart race. The place was packed with people, making it impossible to recognize anyone from a distance.

Some were dancing, some playfully fighting, others drinking near the bar, and some simply sitting on a ledge with a drink in hand. She quickly realized that this wasn’t her scene. Yet, just as she turned to retreat back to her bed, she bumped into Tyson.

“Well, look at you! All dressed up, where are you going? You’re not heading to bed already, are you?” he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her forward. “I guess you’re not much of a party lover, huh? Doesn’t seem like your thing, all quiet and mysterious.”

Michelle sidestepped, causing Tyson’s arm to fall back to his side, but she decided to continue walking with him toward the center of the party. She crossed her arms over her chest, continuing to glance around as they started to encounter the first groups of Dauntless.

“No, I wouldn’t say so,” she said, and Tyson miraculously heard her over the noise surrounding them.

“I figured,” he replied, leaning down to speak into her ear. “But trust me, it’s worth it. Their parties here are out of this world.”

When they reached the crowd, Tyson grabbed her arm to pull her forward, ensuring he didn’t lose her among the bodies moving around them. Michelle had to resist making disgusted faces every time a sweaty guy or girl bumped into her by accident.

The music made her heart and the rest of her body tremble as they reached the bar. “What do you want?” Tyson yelled to be heard, and Michelle just shrugged. She had never drunk anything more than a few sips of her mother’s liquor in secret.

Tyson turned to the bar, chatting with one of the bartenders, and they seemed to get lost in conversation. She took the opportunity to scan the crowd for Sunny or even Tina. Her attempts were futile; all she could see was a sea of people dancing and singing to the music.

The place was illuminated by green and red lights moving through the crowd like lasers, and the smell was highly unpleasant—a mix of sweat, alcohol, and perfume. She grimaced when a girl stumbled and nearly fell on her.

She decided to find her friends, spend a few minutes with them, and then retreat, hating the situation she had found herself in. She longed to return to her bubble of silence and solitude, like when she spent her mornings alone in the gym. But her plans were thwarted once again by Tyson, who handed her a pink drink that made her wrinkle her nose. He grabbed her arm again, leading her away from the crowd.

“You’ll like it here more; it’s much quieter,” he said as they distanced themselves from the throngs of people near the bar. The entire Pit was packed, but the area Tyson led her to was surprisingly more isolated, with only a few groups of relatively calmer people chatting animatedly among themselves.

However, when Michelle saw where Tyson was taking her, she felt her heart leap out of her chest. It wasn’t just the sight of Eric, clad in a black shirt that clung almost illegally to the muscles of his chest and biceps, or the jeans that fit his legs all too well. It was more the sight of the girl wrapped around him that made her heart race. 

Michelle recognized her: Mia. The girl who, upon their first meeting, had treated her more rudely than necessary.

Tyson put his arm around her shoulders again, making her walk a bit faster, and this time Michelle didn’t shrug him off. Instead, she took the straw and drank from the glass. Her throat burned, but a sweet taste flooded her mouth.

“Oh, hey guys!” Tyson shouted when they were a few meters away. He detached himself from Michelle to greet his friends with a handshake and a pat on the back, while Michelle stood there, contemplating what to do next.

This wasn't her place; she wanted to leave, especially when Tyson returned and slung his arm around her shoulders to introduce her to the group. "Guys, this here is Michelle! One of the initiates who passed the first module, right? Third place? Second?"

He gave her a slight shake when he saw her usual expressionless face, his smile indicating he was already intoxicated. He turned to his friends, chuckling a bit. "She’s not much of a talker, as you can see."

"You going after the initiates now?" commented a guy who looked a couple of years older than Michelle. He raised an eyebrow, and the guy held up his hands in defense. "If I were him, I would too."

"Shut up, Axl. You’re making yourself look worse," someone retorted.

"Yeah, because you’re just desperate, you idiot," Mia said. The girl clinging to Eric sized Michelle up from head to toe, as if she were a lost child. She detached herself from the young leader and walked over, and despite wearing heels, she remained shorter than Michelle. "We haven't had a chance to introduce ourselves. Michelle, right? I'm Mia. Pleasure to meet you," she said, her voice dripping with venom.

Michelle glanced at the hand Mia offered, then took a sip of her drink, looking Mia directly in the eyes without accepting the handshake. Mia made a face and withdrew her hand. "Not only mute but rude too. Where do you find them lately, Ty?"

A few people in the group snickered while Tyson adjusted his hat and rolled his eyes. "Don't be a bitch, Mia," he said, playfully putting his arm back around Michelle's shoulders. "Not everyone has trouble keeping their mouth shut like you."

Mia huffed and went back to clinging to Eric’s shoulder, who absentmindedly placed his hand on her hip. Michelle tightened her grip on her drink, nerves frayed. The alcohol was already going to her head, and all she wanted was to leave—or maybe smash Mia’s hand.

“Tell your little friend to loosen up a bit. It wouldn’t be such a turn-off having her here,” Mia said.

“Learn to keep your legs closed then,” Tyson shot back, laughing as he released his hold on Michelle and took a seat next to Eric, giving him a friendly slap on the shoulder. “I’m telling you, man, pick them better and a bit less trashy.”

“Fuck you!” Mia shouted, standing up and storming off, giving Michelle a shoulder bump as she disappeared into the crowd. Michelle watched her go, a slight smile playing on her lips at seeing Mia so annoyed by her presence.

Turning back to the remaining group, Michelle took a seat on a nearby ledge, a few steps away from Tyson and Eric. She took another sip of her drink, closing her eyes as the burning sensation once again spread down her throat.

“You shouldn’t be with your friends, initiate?” Eric’s voice cut through her thoughts.

Michelle opened her eyes to find Eric looking at her, his expression a mix of curiosity and mild amusement. She held his gaze for a moment before responding, "They're around here somewhere. I'm just... taking a moment."

Tyson chuckled, shaking his head. “Looks like you’ve got some fight in you after all. I like that.”

Michelle shrugged, taking another sip of her drink. “I just didn’t feel like dealing with anyone tonight.”

"Then leave. I don't think anyone will miss you," Eric’s words cut sharply, and Michelle felt the sting more acutely than usual. The alcohol made her more sensitive, but it was clear that his cruelty went beyond just her emotional state.

"I don’t think you like anything more than torturing me," Michelle retorted. Eric was momentarily taken aback, momentarily lost for words as he tried to suppress his smirk. "See?"

"Watch it, initiate. I won't excuse your insolence just because you're drunk," Eric warned, his voice icy.

"But you’re always complaining when I don’t respond," Michelle shot back, taking another sip of her drink. The argument was cut short as Mia returned, teetering awkwardly on her high heels and draping herself over Eric once more.

Michelle couldn't hide her irritation. She rolled her eyes and glanced at Tyson, who was clearly enjoying the spectacle. “What were you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Eric said, taking a swig from his beer. Mia pouted and forced Eric’s face back towards her with a dramatic gesture. “But if you were talking about something—”

Eric pushed Mia’s hand away with a look that could have cut glass. Michelle saw his jaw tighten and his gaze harden, revealing the cold leader she had come to know. “Don’t flatter yourself, Mia. ‘Nothing’ means nothing.”

His tone brooked no argument, and Mia fell silent, clearly embarrassed by the reprimand. Michelle couldn’t help but speculate about the nature of Mia and Eric’s relationship. Were they a couple? No, she hoped not. Friends with benefits? Probably.

The thought made her stomach churn, a feeling she tried to drown with one last gulp of her drink. Her head spun more fiercely than before, and she frowned at the now-empty glass. Rising abruptly, she steadied herself with a hand on the ledge where she had been sitting.

“Where are you going?” Tyson asked as she stood. Michelle turned her back to the group, raising her glass in a silent farewell before making her way back into the crowd.

Eric’s gaze followed her, lingering on her from head to toe, pausing uncomfortably long on the exposed skin beneath her short skirt. He grudgingly acknowledged that he had never seen her like this—a striking young woman. His eyes were drawn to the tattoo displayed on her exposed back.

Mia shifted beside him, her voice dripping with irritation. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” she exclaimed, clearly perturbed by Eric’s almost hypnotic gaze as Michelle walked away.

The same guy from earlier took a seat next to them, grinning. “I don’t blame him; she’s pretty stunning. If Tyson’s not into her, I might give it a shot.”

Tyson laughed heartily. “Man, there’s nothing between us,” he said, and Eric couldn’t quite explain the unexpected relief that washed over him at hearing that.

Axl quipped, “It doesn’t seem like it. You all seemed so close, I could almost feel the tension between you.”

Tyson shook his head, “No, nothing like that. Michelle just reminds me of my sister, which is why I like having her around. They’re very similar.”

A moment of silence followed this revelation before another guy from the group stepped closer. “So, Eric, what’s the verdict on the girl?”

“What do you want me to say? She’s just a girl,” Eric replied nonchalantly. However, as his friends continued to press him with curious looks, he rolled his eyes and added, “She’s not bad. She’s picking things up quickly and has her own style.”

His tone signaled the end of the discussion, and the conversation shifted to lighter topics, such as who was stronger at arm wrestling between Axl and Tyson.

Meanwhile, Michelle found herself wedged in the midst of a dancing crowd, where people moved as if their lives depended on it. She scanned the crowd, trying to spot Sunny to thank her for encouraging her to come out, but the only familiar face she could find was that of her instructor, Four.

The guy was leaning against the bar, chatting casually with a woman Michelle recognized as Tori. She approached them cautiously, navigating the crowded space carefully. When she reached them, Tori greeted her warmly with a hug.

"How are you finding it here? I heard you passed the first module, and from what I hear, you did great. I'm so proud," Tori said with a bright smile. Michelle returned the gesture with a small smile of her own before turning her attention to Four.

"Have you seen Sunny?" she asked over the music. Four shook his head, glancing around the crowd before shaking it again. Michelle sighed and returned to the bar to order another drink, hoping to get the same one as before despite not knowing its name or what it was.

Fortunately, the bartender handed her the same drink as before. Just as she was about to leave, Four caught her arm, pulling her away from the crowd. Once they had distanced themselves enough, he looked her up and down, his gaze shifting to a worried expression as he glanced back toward the area she had just left.

"What were you doing over there?"

Michelle turned to see what he was referring to and, upon spotting the place she had just been, turned back to him with a shrug. "Tyson brought me there."

“Hmm,” Four said, his tone growing serious. “I can’t tell you what to do, but be careful with people like that. They’re not the kind you want to be around, especially Eric.” His concern was evident, and Michelle tried to take his words to heart, but the alcohol clouded her judgment.

Without saying a word, she turned and left him alone, heading back to the spot she had been at earlier. Her head spun, and she felt as though she were walking through a void. Yet, with each step, Four's words seemed to come to life, growing more real.

She stopped at a distance to observe the group she had just left, focusing specifically on Eric. Always so serious, so cynical, yet Michelle couldn't help but feel drawn to him. Maybe it was just a foolish sexual attraction… but if that were the case, why did it bother her so much that his arm was casually draped around Mia's waist?

Michelle took a deep breath, her senses slowly returning to her. She decided to take a different path, heeding Four's advice, someone who, unlike the others, was reliable.

As she turned on her heels and disappeared into one of the corridors, she didn't notice a pair of ice-cold eyes tracking her every movement, rising to follow her.

That night, Michelle retired early from the party. She didn't seek out her friends or drink too much—just enough to have her mind clouded. Dressed in pajamas, she found herself sitting on the edge the chasm.

The cold air and the icy droplets made her shiver in the simple shirt she wore, paired with short shorts that provided little protection from the splashes rising from below.

The drink, still half-full, rested beside her, and the small notebook and pencil she had retrieved from her room lay across her lap as she let herself be rocked by the silence, broken only by the sound of the water below.

She leaned forward slightly to take a look, shivering at the sight of the water crashing so aggressively against the rock walls, causing the water level to rise a few inches below her feet with each collision.

She remembered what Four had said about how people, so foolish, would throw themselves down there, meeting certain death. A current like that would carry away even the strongest, and in a twisted sense, Michelle was curious—curious to see what a body would become if it fell into that abyss.

Taking a sip from her drink with one hand and drawing random lines on a page with the other, mimicking the movement of the waves, she didn't notice the steps approaching from behind, immersed in her small bubble of solitude.

After a few minutes, however, Michelle felt a weight on her shoulders, the presence of someone sneaking into her blind spots. When she stopped, ready to react and fully aware of her vulnerable position, she turned around, hiding her surprise at seeing the young leader leaning against the stone wall, arms crossed over his chest, wearing an expression of boredom.

It was probably a bad idea—no, it was definitely a bad idea—but Michelle turned her attention back to her notebook, ignoring him as if nothing had happened. However, this did not sit well with Eric, who pushed himself off the wall to stand directly behind her.

Michelle paused her drawing again, lifting her gaze when she felt Eric approach. Their eyes met, and she couldn’t help but feel a slight flush coloring her cheeks. “What?”

She asked in a whisper.

“People told me you were headed for the chasm,” Eric said, his tone as cold as ever. “I need to make sure no initiate decides to throw themselves off, or I’ll be the one dealing with it later. So get up and go back to your dorm.”

Michelle, however, ignored him and continued sketching as if he weren’t there. She didn’t consider that with a simple push, Eric could have made her disappear without anyone ever knowing, relieving himself of a nuisance.

“I don’t have time to waste, initiate. Get up,” he said more forcefully. Michelle shook her head, and she felt a shiver as she heard him sigh in frustration behind her. “Why do you have to be so difficult? Just do what I say!”

His voice echoed ominously in the void, and Michelle, struck by the severity of his tone, realized just how precarious her situation was. But what she didn’t expect, when she sensed him moving again, was to see him sit down next to her on the edge of the chasm.

For a moment, Michelle thought maybe he felt that strange attraction between them. However, she didn’t know that his presence was far from a visit of pleasure—he would have denied it to his dying day.

In truth, Eric didn’t want to be there. He would have preferred to be in his apartment with one of his casual flings or with his friends, drinking. Instead, he received a message from Jeanine Matthews instructing him to check on Michelle after the cameras showed her near the chasm.

Eric was filled with unanswered questions and doubts about why, since the initiation began, Jeanine seemed so intent on keeping tabs on the girl, making sure she was safe. Who was Michelle? Why was she so important?

But a small part of him was personally curious to uncover the girl’s secrets. His Scholastic habits hadn’t faded, and his hunger for knowledge consumed him from within whenever Michelle didn’t answer him, ignored him, or gave him answers that didn’t quench his curiosity.

At that moment, the silence was gnawing at him, and the sound of the pencil on paper was driving him mad. “Are you planning to jump? You’d be doing everyone a favor.”

“Do you want to push me?” Michelle’s immediate response surprised him. He pretended to consider it for a moment before replying.

“You’re tempting me to do it, yes.”

Without lifting her eyes from her notebook or stopping her sketching, she responded flatly, “Go ahead.”

Eric studied her for a moment, bewildered by how different she seemed from the girl he had observed over the past months. He glanced at the nearly empty glass beside her, attributing her response to the influence of alcohol. The glass didn’t stay nearly empty for long, as he took the last sip.

This caught Michelle’s attention. Finally, she turned to look at him with narrowed eyes. “That was mine.”

Even Eric had to admit that he was influenced by alcohol, though not to the extent Michelle was at that moment. But it was enough to make him want to push her buttons to provoke a reaction. Deciding to make a daring move, he grabbed the notebook from her hands, bracing for an attack. Instead, she remained impassive beside him.

He flipped through the pages casually, though he couldn’t hide the fascination in his eyes as he looked at her drawings. He hated to admit how captivated he was by what he saw on those pages, by what the girl beside him had created.

Michelle watched him closely, one of the rare times she could admire him from so near. It was perhaps a bad thing—she still couldn't explain why, despite her hatred for him, she found herself drawn to him. The problem was that Michelle wasn’t just physically attracted to the guy; she wanted to get to know him, to forge a connection between the two of them. It was probably masochistic of her to inflict such pain on herself.

“It’s rude to stare,” Eric said, his eyes still fixed on the notebook as he continued flipping through the pages until he found the drawing that resembled the tattoo on his back. He saw Michelle curl up, pulling her knees to her chest and resting her chin on them, wrapping her arms around herself.

He lifted the notebook to show her. “Is this the one you have tattooed?” he asked. Michelle shrugged nonchalantly, and Eric felt his blood boil. Gritting his teeth, he spoke sharply, “Just answer me, don’t make me angry, girl. Yes or no.”

Michelle rolled her eyes, a gesture Eric didn’t appreciate. Before he could snarl at her, she replied, “Yes, that’s it.”

“See? Not so hard to answer, is it, Initiate?” He returned to studying the drawings, imagining a similar one on himself. He had long wanted a tattoo on his arms, which seemed to grow more bare with each passing day.

But could he ask her to do one for him? If he asked, it would feel more like a command, an order, but on the other hand, he knew he couldn’t force her.

“It’s always been my way of escaping reality,” Michelle said suddenly. “I used to draw on the walls of my room; my mom was furious. I remember it like it was yesterday…” She laughed wistfully, shaking her head slightly.

Eric wanted to tell her that he didn’t care about her family or the little things she was sharing, but this was the first time he had heard her speak so much, and he found himself captivated by her words.

Her voice was both delicate and strong at the same time; even in her whispers, he could hear the confidence behind her words. He hated himself for it, feeling weak for having such thoughts about an initiate, about anyone. Yet, he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her, from the way her lips moved with each word.

“She never laid a hand on me, I swear, but her words hurt more than a punch,” Michelle said. At this, Eric snorted, and Michelle turned to look at him with an arched eyebrow. “It’s true, Eric. Words are the sharpest blade you can wield, but as a Dauntless-born, I don’t think you can understand that.”

Eric felt both deeply insulted and strangely flattered by her comment, both because it suggested that he had always lived within the confines of the walls and the black clothing, and because it seemed to mock him for it.

He wanted to come up with a cutting remark to prove he knew what he was talking about, but nothing came out of his mouth. What he did manage to say was, “I wasn’t born Dauntless.”

Michelle stared at him, unmoving. “I don’t believe you.”

“Believe what you want, initiate. I went through initiation two years ago; I was born Erudite,” he said, feeling perplexed when Michelle tried to suppress a smile. His mood shifted, he wasn’t sure how, but he was no longer as irritated by Michelle’s demeanor as he had been moments before.

The alcohol was clearly taking effect, he thought.

“What’s going on?” he asked when she remained silent.

“I would have never guessed. You seem born for this life, for all of this.”

“That’s why I left, don’t you think? I could say the same about you. You didn’t seem like a Candor so far; now you’re talking too much,” Eric remarked, and Michelle’s smile faded, the playful atmosphere between them turning neutral again.

Michelle averted her gaze and looked down at the chasm beneath them.

Eric furrowed his brow, confused by the sudden shift in her mood. He didn’t understand why she had changed so quickly when she was the one who had first insulted him, calling him stupid. “Did the cat steal your tongue again, initiate? You know, it’s irritating when you don’t speak.”

“A not-so-subtle way of saying you like my voice?” Michelle asked, trying to suppress a foolish smile.

“No, it’s a way of saying it’s disrespectful not to respond to a superior when they speak to you. Very rude and immature.”

“I do respond. I just don’t need words to do it.”

At that moment, Eric set the notebook down and grabbed Michelle by the wrist, standing up abruptly. The jolt of his grip sent an electric shock down her body; she stood up with him, bewildered. But what confused her even more was the way he tightened his hold on her wrist.

In an instant, she found herself dangling over the edge of the chasm, Eric’s grip the only thing preventing her from falling.

Panic surged through her system.

She knew, she knew it all along—Eric hadn’t come to have a friendly chat. He hadn’t complimented her drawings, however subtly, out of kindness. He hadn’t joked with her, showing he wasn’t just the asshole everyone thought he was. He hadn’t started seeing her differently.

No.

He had done exactly what Michelle had feared, what she had imagined but was too stupid to notice.

She stared at him, seeing the glint in his eyes, that sadistic gleam that was so inherent to his nature. How stupid she felt for even thinking she had made the young leader smile, when she was utterly, damnably foolish.

Foolish, foolish, foolish!

“Don’t you want to beg me to pull you up?” he asked with mock amusement, as if he were teasing her. A part of Michelle wanted to comply, especially feeling his grip slipping ever so slowly.

But if Eric wanted to play this sadistic game, Michelle would change the rules to win.

She met his gaze, noting that sadistic smile—damn, it had its own kind of charm—and, trying to mask all her emotions, she replied.

“Let me go,” Michelle said, her voice firm despite the fear. Eric’s expression shifted instantly, becoming serious, the same one he wore every day.

“Let me go if you have the guts,” Michelle growled, clinging to a ledge with her feet as she swung.

Eric lurched forward, tightening his grip on Michelle as she pushed with her feet to force him to release her. It was a reckless move; for all she knew, Eric might have let her fall. But a dark part of her, the one that thrived on risk, knew the blonde was just toying with her.

And she was right.

“What the hell are you doing?” Eric roared, regaining his footing and hauling her up. He set her down on the platform, holding her against the wall with an intense grip. “What the hell is going through your head? Were you trying to kill us both?”

Eric was furious, his shouts echoing off the walls. It was clear anyone in the nearby corridors could hear. But Michelle, fueled by adrenaline and alcohol, couldn’t think clearly. As Eric’s rage crashed over her, she reveled in the thrill of having finally figured out how to play the game against him.

Eric was cruel, heartless, sadistic—but he wasn’t stupid. Far from it. He knew the initiates were his responsibility.

What Michelle didn’t realize was that Eric’s heart was pounding wildly, threatening to burst from his chest as the seconds ticked by. The moment he understood what she was doing, the world seemed to freeze. He blamed the orders, the looming threat from Jeanine if she discovered that Michelle had died on his watch, despite her own attempt to drag them both into the chasm.

But his anger quickly shifted to pure confusion when he saw her begin to smile, a nearly manic grin that revealed all thirty-two teeth. Under the neon lights, with that smile, and perhaps influenced by the alcohol that clouded his mind, she seemed almost perfect.

Michelle was something he didn’t quite understand, and now he saw why Four had warned him about her, despite her not having done anything particularly noteworthy to earn that title. He also understood Jeanine’s interest in her.

With heavy sighs, they locked eyes, both intoxicated and driven by intense desire. Eric knew it was a terrible idea, something he would regret the next day, but the alcohol urged him to indulge in the moment's craving.

Because the Michelle before him wasn’t the girl he saw every day in the faction. No, this was a different Michelle. A side he was desperate to explore, because damn it, he was curious about every facet of her. This was the kind of person he was drawn to.

Without thinking too much, he moved his hands from her shoulders to cradle her face and neck, lowering himself to press his lips against hers. Michelle was surprised but quickly made space for him, parting her lips to let him explore.

She felt as if she were floating on clouds, lifted from the ground and carried through the faction. Her head spun as Eric claimed the kiss, and she smiled when he became more assertive, intense, as if he possessed every molecule of her.

The uneven wall pressed into her back as Eric used his entire body to push her against it, trapping her with his frame. It felt as if he was enveloping her, and the alcohol-infused Michelle couldn’t complain, feeling the fire inside her intensify.

She attempted a daring move, her hands slowly traveling to his neck, then into his hair. When the guy didn’t pull away, she grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged.

The sound that escaped Eric’s mouth as he momentarily pulled away from the tug was both obscene and exhilarating, and Michelle couldn’t help but smile. However, her grin was short-lived as Eric returned with even more ferocity, holding her still with a hand on her throat.

Eric let his hand slide slowly from her neck down her side, caressing every curve until reaching her hip and slipping it beneath her butt. With a surprising strength, he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his torso. She gasped for breath as he pressed her against the wall, making her acutely aware of what she was causing.

Both felt their bodies igniting, two flames that, when intertwined, created a blaze—something beautiful to behold and destructive to everyone around them.

Michelle and Eric were a perfect match in that moment when their bodies intertwined, even if not completely, when their breaths became one, and their mouths left marks on each other’s skin. A connection formed.

Something that would pull them apart before binding them inseparably.

Something that might save them from the destruction awaiting them, because, on the other hand, you can’t pour gasoline on a fire without igniting an inferno.

And Eric was the gasoline, and Michelle was the fire.

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.11

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: 3.4k

Michelle stared at the scoreboard, her eyes locked on the names and points for what felt like an eternity. A strange mix of relief and anger welled up inside her as she saw her name in second place, just below a boy she didn’t even know.

With the second phase of the program underway, the rankings had shifted dramatically, weeding out those who were emotionally weak. Despite her performance in the simulations being far from exceptional, Michelle had managed to hold onto her second-place spot with pride.

But the frustration—no, the jealousy—stemmed from her inability to surpass Chris. She didn’t even know who he was, just that he was from the other group.

Her name, written in bold red at the top of the leaderboard, guaranteed her a secure position in the faction. Yet for Michelle, that wasn’t enough. She had grown so distracted by the personal struggles weighing her down lately that she’d forgotten her original goal. Her personal goal.

She was good, but not the best. And that bothered her more than it should have.

As she sank onto her bed with her back against the wall, Michelle glanced around at her new companions. Since the recruits and the children of the dauntless had joined, she hadn't spoken to any of them. Only Andy and Connor seemed to be making friends with the new group.

Across the room, Michelle noticed Bowie sitting on his bed, chatting with one of the remaining girls. A girl she hadn't had the chance to talk to and probably never would. Making friends within the faction wasn't her concern, especially during initiation.

She was just grateful to have Sunny in that moment. Friendship was enough for her, and she was fortunate to have someone like Sunny after Anne. Watching the girl read a book while leaning against her, Michelle realized how lucky she was to have found such a vibrant presence.

She wouldn't have died from lacking friends; that wasn’t her life's goal. But having someone willing to help or stand by her during the darkest moments was invaluable. Despite her new recruit status, Sunny didn't care about Michelle’s whereabouts or actions. All that mattered was that Michelle knew she could rely on Sunny as a beacon of support during the tough times.

And so, in the past few days since the start of the second module, both girls, too exhausted to keep up with their routines, had started spending hours together in the quarters or in the Pit, savoring the tranquility.

Sunny didn’t mention her simulation, and Michelle, despite her curiosity about how Sunny had managed only ten minutes, didn't press for details. She could understand; she wouldn’t have wanted to talk about what she would be forced to relive over the next four days.

The second module, fortunately or unfortunately for them, lasted only a week. For the two friends, it was considered a stroke of luck; both were well above the red line, with Sunny now in fourth place. Thanks to her excellent performance, they could already consider themselves official members of the faction.

“What job would you like to have?” Sunny asked abruptly, lowering her book and closing it on her chest. She lifted her gaze to look at Michelle. “Since there's not much time left and you’re so high up, you could choose a good position, you know.”

Michelle thought for a moment before shrugging. She didn’t have a clear idea of what she wanted to do, but Tyson’s offer was quite tempting. She wasn’t aiming to be at the top of the rankings solely to secure a good job; it wasn’t really her priority. Instead, it was more about personal satisfaction and proving to someone who would never find out that she was worth it.

“Hmm. I don’t know,” she admitted.

Sunny rolled onto her stomach, resting her chin on her hands. “I’d like to work at the Wall.”

“Why’s that?” Michelle asked, not knowing much about that position. She had heard people mention it occasionally and understood it involved protecting the city from what lay beyond the walls.

“Well, I like the idea of getting out of this place now and then. I like it here, but the thought of spending most of my life cooped up between these stone walls, without much time outside, gives me the chills,” Sunny said, making a nearly comical face.

Michelle smiled slightly, turning her gaze back to their peers scattered around the room. “...I don’t know. Tyson offered me a position at the shop.”

“The tattoo place?” Sunny asked, surprised. “That makes sense, given your passion for creating designs I’ll never understand. But don’t you think it might be a bit of a waste for you to end up in a place like that?”

Michelle continued to stare ahead as Sunny cleared her throat. “Don’t take it the wrong way; it’s just that, well, I think you’d have better opportunities elsewhere.”

“We’ll see what they offer me,” Michelle replied simply before excusing herself to take a shower, now that most of the initiates had either wandered the halls or gone to bed.

As soon as she closed the small shower area door, she turned on the faucet, shivering as the icy water hit her skin. She loved cold showers; they made her feel more real, more alive, but the water in this dorm was particularly frigid.

It was so cold that she had to grit her teeth for a few seconds before adjusting to the temperature.

In the background, she heard some voices exchanging goodbyes, a few beds creaking, and the door of their quarters closing, indicating that whoever had left had probably returned.

When she stepped out of the shower, she paused to look at herself in the mirror. Her pale skin and prominent dark circles stared back at her, but so did the muscles that were becoming increasingly visible on her frame.

Michelle felt a surge of pride in her progress. Just a few weeks ago, she would never have imagined being in second place; for a long time, she questioned if leaving her secure future in her old faction had been the right decision. But now, gazing at a stronger, better version of herself in the mirror, she realized that she had made the right choice.

Yet, she knew there was still room for improvement.

With newfound determination, she quickly changed clothes and gently said goodbye to a sleeping Sunny before heading to the faction's rooftop. Fortunately, she encountered no one in the cold corridors, remaining as hidden as possible when she heard voices nearby.

Despite the thrill of possibly being discovered, she soon found herself alone on the deserted rooftop, accompanied only by the moon and stars above. She looked out at the night sky, noting the full moon, before starting a steady-paced run around the rooftop’s perimeter.

The cold air filled her lungs like a sharp blade, and the wind made her skin feel as if it were being sliced with tiny cuts, freezing her face. But as she continued to circle the vast roof and increased her speed, the burning of her muscles made her forget just how damn cold it was.

Eric stepped out, fully aware of what he might find. He wasn’t even sure why he had come up here. It seemed like a pointless, meaningless pursuit, yet it was something he couldn’t resist.

For days, he had been deliberately ignoring Michelle. To be honest, he couldn’t have cared less about what she was doing or where she was. But when Lauren had stopped by his apartment to inform him that Michelle wasn’t in her bed, curiosity had taken hold.

Unable to sleep, his mind fixated on the girl. 

At first, he thought she might be in the gym, but she wasn’t there. He checked the chasm, and again, came up empty. He wandered through the faction, searching for any sign of her, already concocting excuses for why he was looking for her instead of Lauren.

Finally deciding to give up the search, he took a break on the rooftop, one of his favorite spots. And there she was. He wasn’t surprised to find her running instead of sitting on the edge watching the city. He had observed her long enough to know that she wasn’t the type to sit idly if she could be doing something else.

He watched her for a while, surprised that she hadn’t noticed his presence. Breathing in the frigid night air, he was taken aback when he did something that surprised even himself; it was as if his feet had a mind of their own, drawn to her figure.

Eric started jogging slowly behind her, warming up a bit before matching her pace.

It was then that Michelle became aware of his presence. She heard footsteps, too slow to be her own, just a few meters behind her. At first, she dismissed them, not feeling threatened. But when the footsteps quickened and drew closer, and she caught a glimpse of blonde hair and a sharply defined jaw out of the corner of her eye, she slowed down to a halt.

Inside, she felt a burn she wasn’t familiar with. Was it anger? Fear?

Tension?

She watched him intently as she came to a complete stop. Eric, having caught up, stopped a few meters away. He turned to face her with his usual icy expression and a raised eyebrow. “Already tired, initiate?” he said. “If you’re already exhausted, maybe this isn’t the place for you.”

Michelle stared at him impassively, taking in his casual outfit—a completely black tracksuit—before resuming her run and easily pulling ahead, creating a considerable distance between them.

Eric, despite his attempt to be irritated, couldn’t hide a smirk as Michelle resumed running, clearly ignoring him. He easily caught up to her and maintained the same pace for a few meters before deciding to increase the distance and see how she would respond.

He wanted to test her, and, oddly enough, he wasn’t surprised when she matched his increased speed and, shortly after, overtook him. In no time at all, Michelle’s casual nighttime run had turned into a full-fledged race to determine who was the fastest between the two.

Michelle had no idea how long they had been running, completely unaware of the passing minutes, until she began to slow down, feeling her leg muscles giving way with each step.

It might have been an exaggeration, but she could have sworn she felt her muscles disintegrating. Her pace gradually came to a halt, and she bent over, resting her hands on her knees before collapsing onto her back.

Eric completed another lap before stopping in front of her, looking down at her with a mixture of amusement and scrutiny. “Hmm, is this all you’ve got?” he taunted, observing her visible exhaustion, before catching his own breath.

“Could ask you the same thing,” Michelle replied in a monotone, curling up in her sweatshirt on the ground, trying to keep her gaze fixed on the stars to avoid meeting Eric’s eyes.

Nevertheless, she could see Eric’s expression hardening regardless. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to, initiate. Just because it’s nighttime and outside of training hours doesn’t mean you can address me however you like. Understood?”

Michelle playfully raised her hands as if to shield herself, and to her surprise, Eric sat down next to her on the gravel, less than two meters away. He followed her gaze and started observing the stars with her, shivering slightly from a particularly cold gust of wind.

Michelle couldn’t say how long they sat there together, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the flashes that crossed her mind whenever she glanced at him from the corner of her eye. She could have sworn she still felt his lips on her skin.

“Do you like the stars?” His question caught her off guard. She turned to look at him abruptly, as if he had just insulted her. She was met with an indifferent gaze that seemed to look right through her, as if she didn’t exist. “Is that such a difficult question?”

Michelle huffed at his curt tone and shrugged. “A little,” she replied softly, returning her gaze to the starry sky and nudging a few pebbles with her shoe.

She lowered her head, shifting her gaze to the gravel beneath her and picking up a few small stones with her fingertips, tossing them a few meters away.

But a question bubbled up spontaneously. “Why?”

Eric planted his palms on the ground behind him, leaning back to get a better view of the sky above them. He lifted an arm, pointing at something. “That’s the constellation Pegasus.”

Michelle tried to follow the direction he was pointing, furrowing her brow in an attempt to locate it. She didn’t even register Eric’s sigh before she felt his hand close around her bicep, pulling her toward him and closing the distance between their bodies.

She felt her heart race as her knee brushed against his. “That one. Can you see it now?” he said, almost impatiently.

This time Michelle saw it. A quadrilateral of stars shimmered above them, outlining the constellation of Pegasus. But as Eric continued talking, explaining the astronomical details, she realized she wasn’t really focused on that.

Michelle lowered her gaze, trying to hide the flush creeping up her cheeks. She felt foolish. It was absurd that Eric’s mere touch could provoke such inner turmoil.

He was always so cold, so distant, yet at that moment, his proximity made her feel vulnerable, as if having feelings for him was a mistake she should never have made.

She struggled to concentrate on the sky, on the stars he was describing, but her mind kept drifting back to the sensation of his knee against hers, his hand gripping her arm with a steady firmness.

How could she allow herself to feel something for Eric? He wasn’t the type to let emotions take over, and certainly not for someone like her.

Michelle started to feel her eyelids growing heavy; her eyes became heavy-lidded and the world around her blurred. The cold night air lulled her into the arms of Morpheus, gently guiding her into a deep and peaceful sleep.

Perhaps she should thank her exhaustion for carrying her into such a profound slumber because, if she had been aware that she had leaned against the young leader next to her, she might have had a heart attack, metaphorically digging her own grave.

Eric stiffened as he felt her body rest against his, not as a burden but as a soft cushion. He remained still for a few seconds, still gazing at the stars while weighing the events of the past few hours. Michelle was someone, and as much as he hated to admit it, she needed control.

He sighed, irritated, before slowly rising and supporting her head to ensure she didn’t fall abruptly to the ground. He wrapped his arms around her back and knees, lifting her effortlessly.

She was, after all, just a slender girl, shorter than him and decidedly more fragile-looking compared to some of his comrades. Yet, he had seen how she could be one of the deadliest in the ring with the right training.

The girl's head fell against his jaw, her breath against his neck sending a shiver down his spine, which he chose to ignore, knowing all too well where it would lead if he gave it any attention.

When he reached the Pit, for a brief moment, a strange thought crossed his mind. What if he had taken her to his own quarters instead?

But the thought vanished before he could even fully grasp it, as he carried her into his quarters, taking care to avoid waking any of the other initiates.

Early that day, when Eric arrived at the Erudite headquarters, he felt an all-too-familiar sense of alienation, a feeling that had haunted him since childhood and reminded him of his outsider status among them. Despite his remarkable intellect—a quality Jeanine Matthews considered nearly wasted—today's meeting wasn’t about his abilities. Instead, they had gathered to discuss Michelle’s first simulation.

Jeanine had specifically requested that Michelle be closely monitored for personal reasons. She had made it clear that she wanted to be informed of any significant developments in Michelle’s progress, which was why Jeanine was now intently observing the second phase of Michelle’s simulation.

As the video ended, Jeanine stared at the screen for a few moments before leaning back in her chair. Eric stood in the center of the room, awaiting her response.

"Impressive. Truly impressive," Jeanine murmured, her eyes still on the screen. "Only two fears. That’s remarkable. In my entire career, I’ve never encountered someone with such a low fear level."

"My concern, or rather curiosity, lies with the second fear," Eric responded. "After some analysis, I’ve concluded it’s related to her fear of needles."

Jeanine nodded, rising from her chair and walking around the desk. As she neared Eric, a faint smile touched her lips. "But you didn’t come here just to discuss that, did you? You’re perceptive, Eric. I’ve always said it was a loss for us when you left, but as they say: curiosity killed the cat."

Eric remained silent, his expression unreadable, waiting for Jeanine to continue. She clicked her tongue and leaned against the desk. "The reason I asked you to monitor her is somewhat connected to what you saw during her simulation. That episode isn’t entirely true, but it’s not entirely false either. It’s based on very real events, though distorted by the fear-based simulation."

"I’m not sure if you know who he was—you were very young when he disappeared—but Michelle’s father, Alex Black, was an exceptional person. He was born among the Erudite as well. He was a dear friend of mine in our youth, and we remained close as we advanced in our careers. He worked with me to track down every Divergent in Chicago. He was part of our cause, and like all of us, he was at risk. His disappearance occurred years ago, when Ellie—excuse me, Michelle—was just a child."

"We never discovered exactly what happened to him. The most plausible explanation is that he was killed by the Factionless or by hidden Divergents among us. Initially, we thought Alex might have orchestrated his own disappearance, perhaps due to a change of heart or a growing attachment to a Divergent. It was a popular theory because Alex was always cautious and well-loved. There was no clear reason for anyone to want him dead."

"So, we speculated that if he had faked his death, he might have wanted to say goodbye to his daughter, to reveal the truth. But young Ellie was always a peculiar child. She rarely spoke, and when she did, her emotions seemed to come all at once. The man you saw in the simulation, the red-haired one, is Mike, the former faction leader of the Candor. His methods were controversial, especially among us. He became fixated on the idea that Alex was a Divergent, that he discovered this later in life, and by extension, believed Ellie might be one as well." Jeanine paused, a hint of a smile on her lips. "But these are just foolish theories. We mourn Alex’s disappearance every day. May his soul rest in peace."

"I still don’t understand what my initiate has to do with all this if you already have your answer," Eric asked, his voice steady, though his curiosity was evident.

Jeanine smiled, tilting her head slightly. "Alex had a brilliant mind, and he was searching for something—a tool we’ve been seeking for years. None of the people I’ve hired to study this object have been able to locate it, except for him. He confided in me that he had found it, more or less, and just needed a few more days to finalize his calculations. His mind didn’t work with numbers or formulas; it worked with—"

"—patterns," Eric interjected, causing Jeanine’s eyes to narrow slightly. "Michelle draws patterns. To an untrained eye, they might look like random lines, but after seeing them a few times, they start to resemble actual maps."

Jeanine stood up and walked toward him. “This is promising. It seems our suspicions were correct. I need you to keep a close eye on her. If any new information comes to light, I will inform you personally. In the meantime, make sure nothing happens to her. She is likely the key to finding what we’re looking for.”