Transparent: A Divergent FanFiction (Book One) ©

Epilogue

               From what I’ve heard, he even has a nickname down at The Cage, and it is a rare few who dare to bet against him in a fight. Now, like me, whenever he walks by a crowd; people either give him the leeway and stand back, or they avoid eye contact and whisper behind his back in hushed tones. Yes, he is just the mindless soldier I want and need him to be.

               I take another step, and I see his hand twitch. His lips move as if he’s speaking, but I can’t hear what he says. I pause, and then take another stride. Suddenly his head snaps up. His hand flashes out, grabs the closest beer bottle, and smashes the end of it on the ground to create sharpened points. He brandishes it as a weapon, his eyes wild, and he glares around the hallways until his eyes meet my own.

               For a split second, I see the same raging defiance he used to have, that flicker of light that said he was willing to do anything in the name of justice. However, just as it appears, it’s gone; wiped from his features when he recognizes me. He drops his makeshift weapon, and then sighs as he rubs a hand along the stubble on his chin.

               “Banks,” he acknowledges; getting to his feet in a way that makes me suspect he isn’t drunk at all.

               “Sage,” I say; raising a brow in disgust as I look him up and down. “You are quite the repulsive sight.”

                “I could say the same for you,” he mutters as he crosses his arms across his chest.

               Ah, that candor mouth of his. Every now and then, he still slips up; sometimes a blunt thought will escape past his lips, or he’ll forget and stand up for someone weaker than him in an act of fool-hearted valor.

               I take a step forward, and I see him stiffen; he knows he’s done wrong. Just as you’d zap a rat that has done something incorrect in your experiment, I have been training him in a similar fashion. He doesn’t let out a single noise or protest as I hook my arm around his neck and proceed to pummel his face.

               When I figure he’s had enough, I let go and watch as he stumbles into the nearby wall. It used to be that he’d curse under his breath and seethe in quiet fury after I’d beaten him in such a way, now though, all I can hear is the sickly wet gurgle as he tries to pull in a breath. His nose is pouring blood, but he doesn’t even seem to notice as he lets it run down his face and seep into his shirt.

               “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Now Sage, that’s not very nice,” I chastise mockingly.

               “Sorry,” he says flatly, and I see him clench his fists slightly.

               “That didn’t sound very sincere,” I note as I wipe off his blood from my fist. “Maybe you’d be more repentant if I paid a visit to a certain someone, Mara perhaps? Or would you rather–”

               “I’m sorry,” he insists, and I can hear the edge of panic in his voice. “It slipped, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

               I wait, enjoying the sight of him wound up and fighting the terror of my threat. It’s incredibly amusing to see him go from a zombie-like apathy to such a strong and protective state. He squirms under my gaze, but I stay silent. Then, because I have a schedule and can’t afford to indulge in this entertaining past-time much longer, I shrug and nod.

               “You brought me samples from quadrant 46C last week, correct?”

               “Yes.”

               “Very well, there were no viable candidates in that sector, so you can go onto the next one.” I say as I hand him a small black box from my pocket. “Here, and make sure to label the blood tubes. It was a mess trying to tell them apart last time.”

               He nods and shoves the little package into his own pants pocket, then with a wave of my hand, he turns and runs past me and down the hall. Again, I am surprised; he doesn’t have the tell-tale lurch of a drunk, and I saw his eyes, they were unexpectedly clear and focused.

               I push the odd thought out of my head; deeming it unworthy of further attention on my part.

               With Sage gone, I take the time to head on a mission of my own. It would be irrational to keep my lab in the same place where I live, and so I have hidden it where no one will suspect. As I make my way out of the dauntless compound, I can’t help but feel elated.

               My research is almost complete.

                Originally, I thought my work would take three years or even four, but at the rate I’m learning and developing this new weapon, I’ll be able to commence the purge in less than two.

                The revolution is just around the corner.

                It’ll be the end of all that is different.

               … the end of all who are divergent.