𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝟎𝟐𝟒

"𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣
𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙢 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙,
𝙄 𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙖𝙘𝙝
𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙."

𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘖𝘶𝘵 𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘰 - 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘴

▲ ▲ ▲ ▲

You pressed on silently through the shadows, slinking around the edges of the light and narrowly avoiding members of either team. The longer you could go undetected by anyone, the better. You hadn't yet mastered Four's art of becoming a fixture of the environment, although you had somehow rendered yourself completely invisible to anyone who happened to pass by.

Speaking of Four, he must have been doing a pretty good job at defending the rest of your team because Eric's soldiers were starting to return and guard the base of their steeple. The looks on their faces were anxious and vengeful, no longer ignorant of the odds of their defeat. 

That persistent nagging feeling still drilled against the back of your skull as you studied your surroundings. There was a reason you opted to stay low to the ground, guarding Tris and Christina while they paved the way to your team's victory—it just had yet to make itself known to you.

You slipped out of the darkness, abandoning your perfect hiding place to run across the opening and wedge yourself between two large wooden crates. You were followed immediately by a string of rapid gunfire and knew that you'd been spotted. You cussed and tried to make yourself as small as possible until the bullets inevitably stopped falling, which didn't take long at all. When the dust cleared, the only sound you could make sense of was a single voice barking orders into a radio. 

"Everyone fall back! I want defenses at the tower now!"

The urgency in Eric's voice was palpable. Turning your head slightly to the side, you spotted him nearby. Kneeled to the ground with the material of his black pants torn and frayed from battle, the barrel of his rifle prodded out from the thin gaps between slats in a wooden pallet. He shot blindly into a crowd of who could have only been your teammates. 

He hadn't noticed you—hadn't even turned his head to investigate the sound of an empty dart-casing clattering to the gravel floor. Your movements were slow and calculated as you cocked your gun and emptied the chamber without ever taking your eyes off of him.

 You had a straight shot at Eric—a perfect opportunity to shoot your leader point-blank and pull him out of the game. Would he be proud of you, or were you just asking to run laps around the compound until you graduated from initiation? Did you even want to shoot Eric in the first place?

Thankfully you weren't given much time to debate the ethics of War Games, because when he stood to adjust his position, someone else took the opportunity that you sorely wasted. Eric hissed, shoulder flying back from the recoil of the dart plunging into his flesh. The weapon flew out of his hands as another dart came sailing over the arena to pierce him in the opposite arm. 

He didn't go down right away. Instead, he stood there in shock as round after round was fired into his chest. You counted eight gunshots total, but Eric was already down for the count by the time someone fired the eighth round into the wall behind him. His breath came out in seething pants, fingers twitching in the dark as he struggled to pry the darts out.

The serum worked through him startlingly fast and his cries of pain were lost to the night like a whisper on the wind. His assailants had long since moved on, marking a clearcut path to the turret. By the time your brain caught up to your body, you were already halfway towards Eric's writhing body. His teeth were clenched in pain, his head thrown back against the ground with his eyes squinted shut.