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As soon as they came to their senses, the boys began slamming themselves against the now entirely shut doors, hollering all the while.

"What the hell do we do now?" Minho shouted, panic lacing his words. "I hate to be that guy, but I told you so!"

Newt shot him a glare, pain shooting up his arm as he threw himself against the steel doors once more.

Their feeble attempts were suddenly interrupted by a flat voice echoing throughout the room. "Please move onto the circles."

Everyone peered down at the barely visible circles drawn in grey on the floor. Newt's stomach coiled with dread and the memories he'd struggled to conceal for so long.

Thomas squinted his eyes. "Yeah, right," he replied, looking up at the ceiling as though he could find the source of the voice there.

Newt swallowed and said, "Maybe . . . Maybe we should. If they wanted us dead, they would've dealt with us already."

"Shank," Minho said, incredulous, "do you have a death wish?"

Newt reined in the truthful, affirmative answer.

"Guys . . . look." Thomas was pointing towards the no longer blank wall. A red number had appeared, and it was decreasing by the second. A hundred and seventeen. A hundred and sixteen. A hundred and fifteen. "A countdown."

Minho rubbed his temples. "Just when you think things can't possibly get any worse—"

"What happens if we don't do anything?" asked Chuck, but Newt stepped on one of the circles before the younger boy could be given an answer.

"Something tells me we don't wanna find out."

Despite exchanging uncertain looks, the others eventually joined him. 

As soon as everyone was standing on the circles, transparent walls caged them in. 

Before they could open their mouths to scream, the doors opened once again.

And Ava Paige walked into the room.

But she wasn't alone.

Newt froze as his eyes fell on the young woman trailing the scientist dressed in all white. She was grasping a gun so big it was disproportionate to her body, and she was staring straight ahead, bearing no signs of recognition, no interest in her new surroundings.

She was also the girl Newt loved.

He begun his assaults on the wall, shouting her name at the top of his lungs, yet nothing happened, Emily's eyes devoid of emotion as she took her place behind Ava Paige. She looked much healthier than before, so much in fact that Newt wondered if everything had been an illusion, if his sick mind had conjured her up in a pathetic attempt to cure his loneliness.

Paige placidly put her hand up, trying to silence the angry group.

"Subjects, cease this futile waste of energy and listen to my words." Her voice rang clear and cold. "You have failed your mission. Clearly, we were mistaken about your abilities and put too much faith in a pack of . . . teenagers." She said it all with a disappointed kind of disgust. "But what confirmed it all was our spy, about whom none of you showed the slightest suspicion."

Ava Paige gave a short nod of her head.

Isabelle's cage lifted.

"Subject Z1, or, as you know her, Isabelle Paige, has been constantly delivering information to us since the moment she joined your little group."

Minho swore loudly. Isabelle flashed him a wicked smirk. Her lips still curved in the mocking grimace, she circled Emily, her gait as lazy as a predator's. "How's that, princess? Finally, we see who's Mommy's favourite." Isabelle mockingly spat. "You've lost. You, and your precious gang."

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