Chapter 1: Test

 Every once in a while, Jeanine got a crazy idea in the name of science. This was no exception. 

The factionless were the largest group of people in the city, and despite what most people thought, they were organized. In the past, there had been multiple riots that confirmed this, and although Dauntless armies had successfully squashed them, the factionless’ attitude against the other factions only grew stronger.

Jeanine has a solution. One factionless person would be allowed to test and choose a faction. If they survived initiation, others would also be allowed to test and choose as well. Jeanine theorized that if factionless were dispersed through the factions, initiation would break them of their factionless mindset and the factionless would no longer be large enough to even think about rioting. The only requirements were that the participating factionless member was born as a factionless, and therefore not preconditioned to a faction. 

Evelyn needed a bit of persuading. It was agreed that she could choose which factionless would be the first to test and choose. It was also agreed that a large portion of rations would be dispersed to the factionless. Otherwise, she seemed to be on board, recognizing that she could offer a more comfortable life away from persecution, to the younger factionless. 

So it was decided. 

——

Treya was not surprised that Evelyn chose her. Evelyn had taken her under her wing when she was young, protecting her from an abusive former Dauntless father and half brother.

Evelyn had taught Treya to defend herself, and with the guidance of Evelyn’s strongest fighters, Treya soon became a fighter herself. In the evenings, the factionless would gather in the old, decrepit tunnels under the city’s center, and take turns fighting one another. It was friendly enough; fighters volunteered, and no one was ever a sore loser. It was also brutal; bare handed fighting left all participants bloody and sometimes broken.

Treya had earned her reputation as a humble and respected fighter. It was a privilege to fight her, even though most would never win. She was a quiet, solitary girl, soon to be nineteen in a few months. Indebted to her savior Evelyn, she was always close by and quick to protect the factionless leader. 

When Evelyn’s son, a Dauntless member with his own humble and respected reputation, approached Evelyn with the offer of bringing factionless kids to the choosing ceremony, Treya, the usually quiet and watchful girl who stayed in the shadows, piped up “why would Dauntless want to do anything that would benefit the factionless?”

It was a valid question and Evelyn looked to her son for an answer.

“It’s Jeanine’s idea. She believes that just because many factionless have earned their banishment, the children born without a faction deserve a fair chance.”

Treya wasn’t going to believe the reasoning for a second, but Evelyn seemed satisfied with it and agreed far too quickly than Treya would have liked. 

“I’ll need detailed information about your candidate choices as soon as possible.”

Evenly smiled almost dangerously, “I only have one candidate.”

Mother and son sat for a moment, silently testing each other before Evelyn broke the silence but not the stare “Treya, leave us for a minute.”

Treya tensed, not liking the idea of leaving her leader alone with a faction lover, let alone a Dauntless one, but she obeyed, closing the metal door behind her.

When the man finally opened the door to leave, he gave her a hard look over, which she replied with a hard, warning stare of her own. She watched him go for a moment, a yellowed folder in one hand, then returned to Evelyn’s side.

“Treya, I need you to do this for me.”

Treya stood silently, letting Evelyn stand and place her hands on Treya’s shoulders gently. 

“The test tells you what you should choose, but you’re free to make your own decision. You need to choose Abnegation.”

Treya’s brow furrowed.

“I know you know what they did to me and my family, but their initiation is the easiest, and they never banish initiates. You cannot fail there. You cannot fail me.” Evelyn sighed, “this could bring a huge opportunity for a better life. No more starving babies,” her voice trailed off.

Treya didn’t need to respond. What Evelyn said was law to the factionless, and she had laid down the law on this.

——

“She only had one candidate?” Max’s bow furrowed as he leaned forward, pressing his forearms into his desk.

“Yes, Treya Price,” Four stated, laying a yellow folder on Max’s desk. He had filled it out with Evelyn, noting Treya’s history, and any information that seemed important.

Max picked up the folder, flipping it open, “any relation to Thane Price?”

“His daughter,” Four replied.

“I was unaware he had a daughter,” Max’s eyebrows raised, surprised. 

Jeanine shifted in her seat, leaning back into it and resting her elbow on its arm, “an illegitimate child with a factionless woman after his banishment.”

Max glanced in her direction then back at the file, “daughter of a Dauntless traitor.” He flipped through the file carelessly, “should we be prepared to expect her in Dauntless?”

“Not likely. If she’s smart, she’ll choose Abnegation. Everyone passes their initiation.” Eric’s response sounded almost bored as he leaned against the back wall of Max’s office, arms crossed over his chest. 

Jeanine turned his direction, then back to Max, “if she passes initiation, she becomes a full member of a faction; freedom away from poverty. She’ll choose Abnegation.”

Four shook his head in disagreement, “she’s a factionless fighter, with the reputation of a soldier. She is Evelyn’s right hand, and Evelyn wouldn’t pick someone with Abnegation traits as her right hand.” He let the others maul over his words for a moment before continuing, “her father was Dauntless. It’s in her blood; her nature.”

“The test will tell us her nature,” Jeanine corrected. 

“She’s still free to choose,” Four argued.

“Choosing Dauntless would be a stupid move. If she’s a factionless fighter, she listens to Evelyn, and Evelyn isn’t stupid. She’ll tell the girl to go to Abnegation.” Eric argued, rolling his eyes.

Max leaned back in his chair, as the room sat quiet.

— —

Bright and sterile and repetitive. The testing room’s lights almost hurt Treya’s eyes as she walked in. The mirrors covering every wall only reflected the bright lights over and over and over. 

Treya examined the mirrors, catching glimpses of her reflection repeating in every angle. Her brown hair, cropped midway between her shoulders and chin. Her tattered grey shirt and black pants with a hole ripped in the left knee. The long sleeved faded black coat, and the worn boots that were held together with a hope and a prayer. 

The silver chair caught her attention next. Reclined, with wires flowing from the headrest where two metal braces were perched. A small table sat next to the chair, with a small computer sitting on top; wires connected the computer to the chair.

Finally the Dauntless man. The same one who has swayed Evelyn into this idea of sending factionless children into factions and letting them be moulded into faction loving robots. 

“My name is Four, and I’ll be administering your test today.”

“I know who you are,” Treya made her way over to the chair and cautiously sat down, resting her head between the two braces. 

He attached two electrode pads to her forehead, making her body tense at his touch, before handing her a small glass vial of clear liquid. “Drink.”

Her eyes narrowed, not liking the thought of drinking some unknown substance, but she obliged nonetheless. Her eyes closed.

When they open again, Treya was alone. The man, the chair, the computer and table and all the wires, were gone. Before her were two pedestals. On one was a large knife, it’s blade glistened in the bright lights. On the other pedestal sat a block of pale yellow cheese. Nothing needed to tell Treya what to do. It’s clear she should choose one or the other, but why? She was not hungry, nor was she in danger. There was no reason for either.

A low growl from behind, started soft and built to a snarl as Treya turned around. A large, long haired brown dog crouched only feet from Treya, it’s lips curled up to bare its sharp white teeth. 

Treya stared the dog in the eyes, matching it’s hard, warning gaze. Dogs can smell fear, but Treya wasn’t afraid. There is no reason for the dog to attack, so it kept its distance, snarling. Treya’s head tilted as she glared down at the dog. It was a wild animal, and Treya had no reason to fear wild animals. She was one herself; a feral child who survived on instinct and necessity. If anything, she respected the dog, and in turn the dog would respect her.

“Puppy!” 

The exclamation caused both Treya and the dog to look up. 

A small child, with arms outstretched, smiled at the dog.

It responded with a snarl, and the child’s eyes widened in sudden fear.

Treya let out a high pitched whistle, simultaneously slamming one foot on the floor. The combination of the sound and vibrations startled the dog and child. The dog turned back to Treya with a growl.

Her eyes narrowed in warning and she growled in return; her lip curling to show her own white teeth, but her gaze was on the child. 

The child’s eyes widened even more before she turned and sprinted away. The dog’s ears lowered and it’s tail tucked under its belly before it scampered off. Neither of them enjoyed her growl. 

A man stood before Treya, in a black suit, with a matching black hat. His hands, scarred with old burns, clutched a newspaper. He forcefully pointed to the front of the paper, to an article featuring a photo of a bearded young man. “Do you know him?” The man sounded angry. 

When Treya didn’t respond, he asked again, more forcefully “do you?”

Treya narrowed her eyes. The man in the photo seemed familiar, but this scarred, angry man didn’t need to know. “I don’t know anyone,” she spat.

He took a large step forward, leaning down to be nose to nose with her. The stench of cigarettes filled Treya’s nose as he snarled, making the scars across his face stretch and threaten to rip open. “You’re a liar” he snapped “you know him and you can save me!”

“Back off,” Treya warned, sizing him up, “I said I don’t know anyone.” Her eyes narrowed, and the man finally took a step back before slowly vanishing like smoke.

— —

“How is that even possible?” Max seemed just as annoyed as he did confused. “How does she not test into any faction?”

Jeanine thumbed through the test results, “it is certainly interesting.”

Max shook his head, “are you positive you administered the test correctly? Maybe we should retest her.”

Now Four was the one annoyed, “how many times have I administered an aptitude test? I think I know what I’m doing.”

“She literally tested as factionless? Has that ever happened before?” Eric directed his questions to Jeanine, who was still skimming the results.

“It’s not happened before, but then again, we’ve never tested a factionless born before.” She didn’t bother to look up.

“Is it possible she’s divergent?” Max offered, trying to make sense of it all.

Four shook his head, “no, a divergent tests into too many factions. She didn’t test into any.”

Eric stepped behind Jeanine, reading the results over her shoulder, “she reacts on a survival instinct. She didn’t choose the knife or cheese because she had no reason for either. She didn’t fear the dog, and so it brought on no reaction. When the dog attacked the child, she didn’t protect the child, and when asked if she knew the man in the photograph, she lied to save herself.”

“Factionless certainly have a survival instinct,” Four agreed, almost sarcastically. He looked to Jeanine, “so what does this tell you about her nature?”

Jeanine looked up from the results, “it tells me that we shouldn’t underestimate her.”

——

Treya handed him the can, then the spoon. “I don’t like not knowing their motive. Why would Dauntless help factionless? Since the downfall of Evelyn’s takeover, they’ve been quick to confront us.”

“Trigger happy faction lovers,” Edgar managed between bites.

Treya pulled her knees to her chest, “they’ve made it clear they aren’t an ally.”

“To be fair,” Edgar took a moment to chew before continuing, “we did pretty much double cross them during the uprising.”

“It was necessary, but I get it. But why lie? Why pretend this has anything to do with our wellbeing?”

“So don’t go,” he chewed.

“Evelyn wants me to.”

“So go.”

Treya rolled her eyes, “you’re not helpful.” 

He shrugged and Treya took a moment to look him over. His grey eyes, shaved head and soft nose. His pale pink lips curled as he chewed around a bothersome tooth. Despite his sunken cheeks, which was a typical feature of all factionless, he was handsome; a stark contrast from the dilapidated abandoned building they had decided to crash in. 

He glanced up at her, his eyes lighting up to see her watching him. He slurped the remaining bit of beans from the spoon, and gave her a flirtatious smirk.

Treya rolled her eyes again, giving him a gentle shove with her shoulder.

His smile grew as she grabbed for the spoon. Usually he would hold it just out of reach and tease her with it, but he let her have it this time, watching her slide it into her pocket. 

“You and your spoon,” he teased. 

“It is the perfect size. Not too fat like those spoons the Abnegation gave us, and not too small like the ones Erudite throw away.”

Edgar rolled his eyes playfully, laying back on his elbows on the floor. “It’s just a spoon.”

“It’s my spoon.”

Edgar shrugged, dismissing her trivial spoon, “so what are you going to do?”

“What would you do?”

Edgar took a deep breath, mauling over his answer before responding, “I’m not a factionless born, Treya. I’m a Dauntless reject. I guess I’m partial to the faction structure. It’s easier to belong to a faction than to not. But I’m happy here. Life may not be easy and posh like it is for faction lovers, but I’m happier here than I ever was in Dauntless.”

Treya hugged her knees closer to her chest, “why Dauntless?”

Edgar let out a huff, “I’m a fighter with a temper. Where else would I go?”

The two sat quietly for a moment before Edgar glanced back up at Treya, seeing her staring solemnly into the distance. He reached up and tugged at her shirt, pulling her down to the floor next to him.

Treya curled up silently, her back to his side, his arm snaked under her head. “That Dauntless guy doesn’t think I’ll make it.”

“So prove him wrong.”

“What if I’m too factionless to be in a faction?”

Edgar rolled to his side, his free arm draped lazily over Treya’s smaller frame, his forehead pressed to the back of her head, “the factions are too factioned for anyone to fit into.”

Treya mauled over his response, long enough to hear his breathing deepen as he drifted into sleep.

——

Evelyn wasn’t allowed in the Hub. She wanted to stay and wait for the ceremony to end, to see Treya one more time, but Treya insisted she not. After the ceremony, she wouldn’t be a factionless anymore, she’d be an initiate to whatever faction she chose.

The Hub was the center for the city’s government. It was never a place Treya wanted to be, as it stood for everything she disagreed with. This was the source of her suffering as a factionless, and it’s blocky pillar-like existence served as nothing more than another shadow on her and her fellow factionless; it’s two black prongs like the horns of a devil. Not far off, in Treya’s opinion.

As she climbed the stairs, following a wave of gray cloaked Abnegation, Treya’s mind wandered to the choosing ceremony and her approaching decision.

A divergent would question why a person cannot be part of each faction; kind, selfless, truthful, brave and smart. But Treya knew the factions better than their positive facades. As an outsider, she had an unbiased opinion of them all. The kind were selfish. The selfless were stifling. The truthful lack empathy. The brave were cruel. The smart were vain.

Who would want to be a part of that?

Evelyn had told Treya to choose Abnegation because they never turn away an initiate. It would be the smart choice. But would it prove anything? This whole agreement was that if Treya could pass initiation, factionless children would be allowed to participate in the choosing ceremony and have a better life. Abnegation initiation would be the easy way out. It wouldn’t prove that the factionless were capable of anything. Would they be deemed worthy of a better life if they take the easy way out? 

Treya grimaced at the thought. Why did she have to prove that she was worthy of a life outside of poverty? This had nothing to do with who was deserving and who wasn’t. No, there had to be an ulterior motive to this agreement. One that benefitted Dauntless, and Jeanine.

Since the uprising, Jeanine had come to terms with the concept that the divergent were not a threat to her governing system, because they were preconditioned to the factions they were raised in, and those they later chose. By choosing a faction, they were accepting conformity. The new threat was the factionless, with their ideals of anti faction systems. They chose not to conform; a fact made clear by the uprising. To any party trying to control the governing system, the factionless were the threat. 

Was this now a ploy to conform the nonconforming? Probably. Most likely.

What would Dauntless get out of it? The chance to get back in Jeanine’s good graces, and if you’re in her good graces, you may get some say in her decisions. You at least became a bug in her ear, and you weren’t on her hit list.

Dauntless was the most corrupt. That was made obvious by the way the faction split in two during the uprising. It was a war on morals between the two halves, which gave the factionless the chance to double cross them. But that was a different matter. 

Dauntless were cruel. Treya had heard enough stories about Dauntless training and initiation. And she had seen the trigger happy soldiers attack the factionless with little to no reason, quite frequently. They were cold, sadistic, adrenaline junkies, and bullying around the factionless gave them the jump they craved. 

It would be ironic if a factionless girl passed their initiation. 

Twenty floors up, Treya followed the sea of gray into a great round room. A circular stage sat to one side, and five separate sections of cushioned seats, fanned from the edge of the stage. People were already filing down the rows of seats, and it was obvious that each section was for a specific faction. The farthest section was filling with the gray sea of Abnegation, their heads bowed and cheeks flushed as they caught their breath from climbing the stairs. Next to them were brightly clothed smiles, draped in reds and yellows. Amity. Then it was Erudite, in their blue suits and judging eyes that peered through glasses with no prescription. Candor sat next to them. Their black and white suit jackets starched, and their faces just as stiff. Then the loud black and maroon hoard of Dauntless. 

“Treya Price.”

Treya turned to face a blond, middle aged Erudite woman, balancing a notepad and folder on one hip. This must be Jeanine.

“I’m Jeanine Matthews, I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Treya looked the woman over, but gave no response.

Jeanine motioned toward the far side of the stage, where a lone metal chair had been placed on the far side of the Abnegation section. “I’ve had a chair set for you.”

Treya glanced at the chair, then back to Jeanine. Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she nodded her head and made her way to the chair.

The ceremony wasn’t anything special. A Candor man made a speech about being true to oneself in their decision to choose a faction, and the importance of being honest about who you are. It was all very Candor.

He was then replaced with an Abnegation man, whose beard was such the same shade of gray as his attire, that it looked almost as if he’d hung the neck of his shirt around his ears. He called the names of those who were choosing. 

Some decisions caused the crowd to gasp in shock, or roar in excitement, but every candidate received an applaud for their decision. 

The candidates this year were older than normal. In the past, children chose at age sixteen. After the uprising, it took time to rebuild and reestablish the factions, so most of the candidates were seventeen and eighteen. To Treya, it made more sense. Why ask a child who they are when they are still growing and changing? 

“Treya Price,” the man finally called. 

She was the last candidate, called out of the typical alphabetical order, as if she was an afterthought and her name was hand written on the bottom of the roster. 

There were murmurs from the crowd. It must not have been public knowledge that there was a last minute add on.

Treya stood and made her way to the stage. More murmurs hummed through the crowd. It probably wasn’t public knowledge that a factionless girl was attending the ceremony today. 

Before her were five concrete bowls, each engraved with the symbol of a faction. In Abnegation’s bowl were smooth, gray stones. Plain and gray and stiff. Seemed about right. In Amity’s bowl was rich brown dirt. They were farmers, and took pride in every harvest. It fit. Clear water sat motionless in the Erudite bowl. They strive to have a clear mind, open to changing opinions based on facts. Just as water changes shape depending on its container. Shards of broken glass sat in Candor’s bowl. There is no smoke or tint to hide under in Candor. Their truth is always crystal clear. In the Dauntless bowl, hot coals, tinted red with heat, were still smoldering. How very Dauntless.

It was all so...symbolic. Faction lovers and their symbols. They were as in love with their symbols as Treya was with her spoon. At least a spoon served a useful purpose.

Treya wondered what would be in a factionless bowl. Nothing. Probably nothing, as that is what the faction lovers believed the factionless were; empty and without meaning.

Treya rolled her eyes.

She picked up the small knife that sat in front of the bowls. She had drowned out the murmuring behind her, but she couldn’t drown out her thoughts. 

The knife’s blade was sharp, and it didn’t take much pressure before a bead of red bubbled up on her palm. By dripping her blood into a bowl, she was accepting conformity. Faction before blood, is how the saying goes, and right from the start, candidates go into a faction by giving it their blood. More symbolism.

What did Treya want? Honestly at this point she was sick of it and ready to fling her blood on the bearded man and demand to go back to the factionless. It was too late for that. Evelyn was counting on her. Jeanine was judging her. 

Abnegation. The easy way out.

Treya sighed and rolled her eyes, annoyed with herself. She knew she would never take the easy way out. She knew from the moment Evelyn told her to choose Abnegation, that she wouldn’t. 

“The hell am I getting myself into,” she mumbled as the bead of blood finally fell and sizzled on the hot coals.

There was no applause. There were a few gasps, a few more murmurs. Then a roar, starting low and quickly building as the Dauntless welcomed another initiate. 

Treya stepped off the stage, and to the hoard of black and maroon. 

The factions were standing, making their way to the stairs and elevators. 

Wedged into the hoard, Treya followed the Dauntless down the stairs, having no problem keeping up.

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