Глава 13. It's just a simulation, Tris I assure her, though she knows it's much tougher than I make it out to be.

" It's just a simulation, Tris" I assure her, though she knows it's much tougher than I make it out to be.

Slowly, as the injection takes a hold of her brain, her eyes close, and I lose her to the darkness once again.

Tris wakes up in darkness, and so do I. Blue orbs blink on one by one, filling the room with light and casting eerie, flickering shadows on the floor. I recognize this place – we're in the Pit. The initiates stand in a circle around a glass box, which has Tris encased in its interior. A simulation version of me marches up to the box and taps on the glass, motioning towards the bottom of her feet. I follow my own gaze down to the bottom of her feet, curious, but cautious as to what the glass box will do.

The answer comes immediately. Water gushes from the bottom of the box, soaking Tris's feet and ankles.

" Hey! " she cries. " Let me out of here! "

Drowning. I realize. She's afraid of drowning.

The water rises as she frantically pounds on the glass. " Get me out of here! "

Water at her knees.

Water at her waist.

Water at her chest.

Although this is merely a simulation, the thought of watching Tris helplessly drown sends shivers up and down my spine.

It's not real. I remind myself.

Water rises above her head, imprisoning her in the suffocating glass chamber. Her expression is composed, not panicked as it was moments ago, but her heartbeat doesn't slow down; she is still fighting.

Again and again, she swings her foot at the glass in front of her. Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

Come on, Tris. What are you doing? Stop fighting the simulation.

Frustrated, she tries the barrier with her hands. Her efforts seem to yield no results, until I hear the unmistakable cracking of glass. The sound sends a shuddering chill down my spine. Dread spreads through my bloodstream, threatening to suffocate me in its stifling grip.

She shouldn't have been able to crack the glass.

She shouldn't have been able to control the simulation.

She is Divergent.

With one final kick, the glass gives and shatters into a thousand pieces, letting the water spill onto the floor before it and ending the simulation.

Everything is a blurry mess when I open my eyes. I rest my head in my hands and let out a frustrated groan.

Tris's Divergence complicates everything.

I walk over to the chair as she wakes up from the simulation.

" What? " she asks, when my stare becomes uncomfortable for her.

" How did you do that? "

" Do what? "

" Crack the glass."

" I don't know."

I offer her my hand and help her off the chair. When she remains unmoving, I sigh, and drag her out of the room.

" What? " she demands as she jerks her arm back once we're in the hallway.

" You're Divergent."

Fear flashes in her eyes, but only for a second. She composes her face and leans casually against the wall. " What's Divergent? "

" Don't play stupid, " I say. " I suspected it last time, but this time it's obvious. You manipulated the simulation; you're Divergent. I'll delete the footage, but unless you want to wind up dead at the bottom of the chasm, you'll figure out how to hide it during the simulations! Now, if you'll excuse me."

I push past Tris and stalk back into the simulation room, leaving her on her own to figure out a way to save her own skin.

That evening, I climb out of the Dauntless compound after my shift in the control room and head down to the train tracks. I sit down on the curb, draping my arms over my knees, and just breathe. Moonlight passes through the breaks between dark clouds that drift lazily across the sky, softening the bruises of the harsh daylight, and muting them in veiled shadow. The softness of the city is moonlight lost in the harshness of the bright day. The sharp angles, mounts of crumbled history and ruins are enveloped by the blanketing arms of the night. There is a sort of stillness in the air that screams to be heard and to be felt. It craves a captive audience, so here I am, basking in all of its glory.

Through the quiet, I hear soft footsteps approaching.

Shauna creeps up beside me and offers a quiet greeting. The moonlight bounces off her soft honey-brown hair; it dances on her cheekbones and her nose; it holds itself in her eyes.

" What are you doing out here so late? " Shauna asks, taking a seat beside me on the dusty curb.

She pulls her knees up to her chin and wraps her arms around them. In this, I see a glimpse of the Shauna that I knew two years ago: the Shauna that I taught to fight every night after everyone else has gone to bed, slight but determined.

" I could ask you the same thing." I say.

" Can't sleep. I like coming up here every so often. It's a nice change; everything's so open and bright, even at night."

" Yeah, I know what you mean."

" Do you ever miss it? " She turns to look at me. " Home, I mean."

" I am home." Even though I am far from home. " There's nothing left for me there." I say, gesturing towards the Abnegation sector, though I'm not sure I completely believe my words.

We both fall silent for a few minutes.

" So, " she starts. " The Stiff, huh? "

I grin and fiddle with a piece of grass that has sprouted from a crack in the cement. " Please, I beg you, spare me from the girl talk! "

" Oh, shut up." She shoves me with her shoulder. " Come on, spill. Have you kissed her yet? Have you showered her with bouquets and bouquets of roses while proclaiming your love for her down on one knee? "

" The answer to the latter is a resounding yes." I tease. " I'll get back to you on the first one."

" Spill or I'll sell your soul to Eric." She demands.

In the distance, the chugging sound of an approaching train carries with the wind to my ears. " That, you nosy thing, is the sound of salvation."

" I'll get it out of you one way or another, " she says. " Where's that train headed? "

" I don't know. The end of the world." I say, my eyes searching the horizon where the train tracks disappear to oblivion. " Want to come? "

" I'll sit this one out." She says. " Don't do anything stupid."

" Do I ever? "

" Always, " she snorts.

And then we go our separate ways: her, back to the Dauntless compound, and me, running alongside the train, following it to oblivion.

I lean out of the car as far as I dare, letting the wind sweep past my face, savoring the feeling of the light tapping of my heart against my chest. Only when I am on the trains, when I see the world melting into the wind, do I feel this slight rush of adrenaline that clears my head and quickens my pulse. Only here, and when I am with Tris.

I trace the shape of her face in my mind. The curve of her nose, the arch of her brows, the curl of her eyelashes. I see her everywhere; the wind sings her name and the moon mirrors her pale gleaming eyes.

Her laugh courses through my veins; she lives inside me. It scares me to lose control – to rely on someone other than myself, but I am willing, just this time, to let myself crumble down to nothing and rebuild again with both mine and her name on my lips. I let the idea of her consume me until I am no longer Four, and no longer Tobias, but a person born again – born to a world of lies and deceit and broken morals, to a world where I have everything to lose – but it's all worth it. Here we are, thrown into the midst of it all, as fragile and soft as the flutter of a bird's wing against strong wind, but I refuse to break, and I hope for my sake that she stands strong as well.

I can feel the world giving away, like an old photograph printed on yellow, withering paper, as fragile as a whisper lost in the stealing arms of the wind. The blinking lights of the city brush by my fingertips, so lightly it might have not happened at all, and already, I am lost to the infinite possibilities of the flitting night air. Above me, a thousand twinkling lights mark their place in the sky, and my blood is singing I am so, so alive.