The Archangel of Amity (Divergent Fanfic)

Guns

Emi woke up, later than usual. That was because the sunlight wasn't there to greet her. Already she missed it, despite how annoying it was sometimes.

Emi opened her eyes, sat up. Almost no one else was up yet. Only the boy to her right. He was pulling on socks and shoes. When he heard the bed springs creak from her sitting up, he turned around.

"Aah, awake bright and early, huh? Old farm habits are hard to break, hmm?" Of course it had to be that annoying Candor boy.

"You were awake before I was though." Emi rubbed sleep from her eyes, tied back her hair.

"Hmm," Peter replied, tying his shoelaces.

Emi looked around. Not a single person was moving. They were all sound asleep. She looked at the clock. 6 o' clock.

"What are you doing, awake at 6?" Emi asked, as she pulled on her own sneakers, standard black.

Peter shrugged, giving no response. Then he got up, began making his bed.

Emi sighed, and stood up. Not bothering to make her bed, she left the dormitory and its other inhabitants.

The hallways were lighter now, from the sunlight piercing into the tunnel of the Pit, so she could make her way around the tunnels, tracing her way back through the hallways, walking back and forth through them until she had memorized the pathways to and from certain rooms.

Time ticked by slowly, and then seemed to go around all at once. She found herself at the cafeteria's doors, and breakfast was now in session.

Emi slipped into the cafeteria line, and grabbed a plate. She marveled at all the food there. The Dauntless definitely had more food than the Amity compound, despite the Amity being agriculture-related.

Emi grabbed a butt-ton of fruit, and a really fat muffin. She had honestly never seen such a big muffin. The base was the size of her palm in itself.

When she had finally tracked down Tris and Christina, both sitting at a table in the far back, they goggled at the amount of fruit she dumped onto it.

"There's no doubt," Christina paused dramatically. "Emi loves to eat fruit."

"No doubt," Emi grinned, sinking her teeth into a strawberry. Its taste was fresh, sweet with a ring of tartness in it. She loved strawberries.

The biggest shock, though, came when Christina offered a bite of toast to Emi. Emi, reluctantly, took that bite.

The bread actually tasted different. Well, due to the lack of peace serum in the dough, the bread didn't have a slight chalky taste to it.

Emi reminded herself to get toast for breakfast tomorrow.

The bread was delicious.

When the clock read 7:45, Tris, Christina and Emi all got up, returned their plates, and winded through the corridors to get to the training room.

They got there in the nick of time, 7:59. 

Emi could see many initiates clearly rubbing their eyes, or yawning. They must not have slept well. Emi didn't blame them; she didn't sleep very well either. It wasn't a surprise that the Dauntless expected them to hit the ground running, after all.

Four was the instructor there. Thank goodness. Emi didn't think that having Eric as the main instructor would have been the best option.

Four was passing guns to the initiates.

Wait, guns?

"The first thing you will learn today is how to shoot a gun," Four pressed a gun into Emi's hand, and then moved on to give Tris one. "The second thing will be how to win a fight. Thankfully, if you are here, you know how to get on and off a moving train, so I don't need to teach you that."

"Initiation is divided into three stages." Four continued. "We will measure your progress and rank you according to your performance in each stage. However, the stages are not ranked equally in determining your final rank, it is possible, though difficult, to drastically improve your rank over time."

Emi examined the strange, metal tool in her hands. Though her father's actions negated it, her mother frowned upon violence. The thought of her mother made her stomach ache a little.

"We believe that preparation eradicates cowardice, which we define as failure to act in the midst of fear. Therefore, each stage of initiation is intended to prepare you in a different way. The first stage is primarily physical. The second, primarily emotional. The third, primarily mental."

"But what..." Peter yawns through his words. "What does firing a gun have to do with... Bravery?"

Emi hears the click of the bullet entering the chamber before she saw Four press the barrel of the gun to Peter's head.

"Wake. Up. You are holding a loaded gun, you idiot. Act like it." Four snapped, before lowering the gun, and begins pacing in front of the row of initiates. "And to answer your question, you are far less likely to soil your pants and cry for your mother if you are prepared to defend yourself. Now watch me."

Emi wasn't so sure about Four not being a psycho now.

Four faced the wall with the targets lined up on it, held the gun up, and fired, a loud bang ringing through the room. A bullet hole pops up in the middle circle.

Emi, delicately, lifted the gun up, trying to mimic what Four was doing. Heavy and strange in her hands, yes, but she most definitely did NOT want it to be near her face. She squeezed the trigger.

She was not prepared for the recoil of the gun. It sent her into the wall behind her, and she hissed at it, rubbing the back of her head where it had hit the wall. But when she looked back, the bullet had hit the border of the second circle. At least she hit the target.

As she walked back, she watched Tris on her left, and Peter on her right. Tris was firing, prepared for the recoil, but not hitting the target. Peter, it seemed, was a quick learner, and each bullet was going closer and closer to the center. She watched as he fired, and hit the center.

"Geez, and they say that people aren't born killers," She breathed.

"I can show you, if you want," Peter said, not looking away from the target.

"Mmmm, I'll pass," Emi turned back to her own target. She was about to fire when she felt something nudge the barrel of the gun.

"Barrel needs to be higher," Peter chided.

Emi fired the gun again. It had grazed the middle circle. Closer.

It took 6 more bullets to hit the center of the target, and when she saw the bullet hole, she felt a grin spread on her face. Maybe she wasn't as bad as she thought she was.

She didn't see the pair of eyes on her that time.

Not quite yet.

But soon.

Word count - 1114

One of my favorite chapters so far LOL
Stay safe, and don't catch Covid-19 out there!