dissident ｡ nct

3.2 ｡

—Part 3.2—
Malfunctions

"No..that can't be right."
—Jaemin—

When my eyes peeled open, the testing room had evaporated from view, and a bitingly cold chill carried through the air. The imagery pieced together slowly, like bubbles surfacing from the darkness of a bottomless well--the contour of high-rising buildings, luminescent lights, and scattered street signs taking form before me.

A faint, steady beat of music pounded through the ground and the wall behind me. My eyes scanned the area, mulling over a sky full of stars, before travelling up an adjacent brick wall where it met a suspended neon sign.

A club. I was standing next to the front doors of a club. I looked down, brushing a hand over my chest. The jacket I wore was spotted in small droplets of rain like I'd been stationed outside for a while. But why? What did a nightclub have to do with an Aptitude Test?

"Just play through the scenarios in whatever way your instincts tell you to and you'll pass with flying colors."

I didn't know what was more off putting, the statement, or the forced certainty in his voice when he spoke it.

"Get off me!"

My head jerked to the right, in the direction of a deep alleyway. Voices echoed down the slim path, and I felt something catch in my throat, like a lump, preventing any air entry in or out. It was starting. It had to be, this was the test.

I approached the entrance, dim street lights casting scarcely across the brick walls. But as I peered inside, deep enough into the corridor, the glow disappeared and the space was engulfed by black.

At the end of the pathway, four men stood with their backs to me, the only movement being their shoulders lifting as they released low laughter. One of them was on the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around his abdomen, and his features drawn together in pain.

Everything about the situation screamed cowardice—unfair numbers, beating up a man much smaller than themselves, in a place away from any watchful eyes. They were drunk out of their minds from the look of it, two of them so deep into inebriation that I wondered how long they could stay on their feet.

The man in the middle however, released the rim of his beer bottle from his lips with a loud pop, and tossed it to the pavement carelessly. He then turned to the male on the ground, lips pulling back into a smile as he swung his leg back, going in for another hit.

Ten's suggestion and my Dauntless upbringing blocked out any doubts I had, and I ran towards the end of the alley, my voice bouncing off the walls, "Hey! What the hell are you doing?! Back off!"

They each turned to face me. One of them scoffed, the one who I presumed was the leader--he looked like the trainers at Dauntless. Tall and brawny, with tattoos coating his skin, large hands calloused from fighting, and the same shit-eating grin that Jaehyun would sport as he skulked around.