Below, the city sprawled — a grey patchwork of crumbling towers and sharp shadows, Dauntless headquarters looming ahead like a scar against the skyline. The air tasted like metal and dust.

You’d made it. Barely. A few others hadn’t been so lucky. Their figures shrank into the distance, the train swallowing them whole, and that brief flicker of regret on their faces stayed with you — a warning you chose to ignore.

Eric stood at the edge of the roof, a silhouette against the drop. He didn’t speak, just gestured toward the void with a lazy tilt of his head. The blackness yawned below, endless and hungry.

No one moved at first. A heavy silence, broken only by the wind and the shifting of feet. Someone behind you whispered, “They can’t be serious.”

But you were already moving. Your feet carried you forward before your mind could catch up, weaving past the frozen bodies until you were at the front. Eric’s gaze slid to you, unreadable, something almost like amusement pulling at the corner of his mouth. He stepped aside.

You placed one foot on the edge. The drop was nothing but darkness, a mouth waiting to swallow you whole.

They wouldn’t kill you off. They wouldn’t.

You jumped.

Air screamed past your ears. Your stomach tried to claw its way up your throat. Eyes clenched shut. A scream bit at your lips, but you swallowed it, teeth grinding.

Then — impact. Not bone-shattering, but close. The net caught you with a violent bounce, springing you back into the air before you slammed down again, sliding, rolling until you hit the bottom.

You opened your eyes.

A face hovered above you. Sharp jaw. Hard line of a mouth. Eyes the color of storm clouds, narrowed not in judgment but in quiet, methodical assessment. His grip was firm on your waist, steadying you as you scrambled to find footing.

He lifted you like you weighed nothing, planting you on solid ground. His hands dropped instantly. Yours found each other behind your back, fingers twisting.