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TWENTY EIGHT 「impossibility」 ＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚
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IT WAS THREE days before Thomas woke. As soon as he gained consciousness, he asked Newt to call a Gathering. Sylvia was ready to throttle him. He wouldn't tell anyone what the Gathering was about, just told Newt to get all the Keepers and refused to say anything else.
As Sylvia sat in her chair, her chest ached. So many people had been replaced. Where Nick once sat, Alby now sat. Instead of Quinn, Gally, and Troye in their respective chairs, sat Oscar in place of Gally and Winston in place of Troye. Zart, the boy who'd become Keeper of the Track-hoes after Quinn, had been taken by the Grievers. They simply hadn't had time to find someone else to take his place.
Sylvia thought about Troye a lot the past few days. If Troye was not here, who would be the one to make fun of the arguments that ensued? Who would laugh and make absurd suggestions to the Council? Her eyes just kept drifting over to Troye's seat as she waited for the Gathering to start.
Thomas had vouched to let Teresa into the Gathering—claimed she was an important part of it—but Alby and the others refused. It seemed that Newt and Minho had started to trust the girl. Sylvia wasn't sure where she stood. She had only talked to the girl a couple of times, mostly when Thomas was going through the Changing, but she wasn't sure if she trusted the girl. But Sylvia wanted to. She was the only other girl after all.
As the last Keeper took his seat, Alby began, "All right, Greenie. Forget all the beat-around-the-bush klunk. Start talking."
Thomas shifted in his seat a bit, threading his fingers together. He looked considerably better than he did when he was tied to the bed during the Changing. All signs of purplish and greenish veins and pale skin gone. Though he had dark circles beneath his eyes.
"It's a long story," he began. "We don't have time to go through it all, but I'll tell you the gist of it. When I went through the Changing, I saw flashes of images—hundreds of them—like a slide show in fast forward. A lot came back to me, but only some of it's clear enough to talk about. Other stuff has faded or is fading." He paused, looking around the room. "But I remember enough. The Creators are testing us. The Maze was never meant to be solved. It's all been a trial. They want the winners—or survivors—to do something important." He trailed off.
