Someone shouts, "Enough!" and I think too much and nothing at all.

One choice can transform you!

You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it.

Part of me wonders if this is a suicide mission disguised as a game.

I hold the gun out from my body, my arms straight, just as Four taught me, when that was his only name. I used a gun like this to defend my father and brother from simulation-bound Dauntless. I used it to stop Eric from shooting Tobias in the head. It is not inherently evil. It is just a tool.

She taught me all about real sacrifice. That it should be done from love, not misplace disgust for another person's genetics.

The shouts of triumph become infectious, and I lift my voice to join in, running toward my teammates. Christina holds the flag up high, and everyone clusters around her, grabbing her arm to lift the flag even higher. I can't reach her, so I stand off to the side, grinning. A hand touches my shoulder. "Well done," Four says quietly.