Con-ver-gent, adjective: Coming closer together.
They say that something as simple as a flutter of a butterfly's wings can change the course of history. What if Tris never took over Caleb's mission? What if the mission failed? What if Caleb was the one to die? An alternative (extended) ending to Allegiant, obviously with some spoilers.


8. Chapter 8


"Don't." Christina runs forwards, running into Rose's shoulder. The gun clatters to the ground and Christina bends to pick it up, pointing it at her sister. "Don't you dare."

"Christina?" Rose's voice trembles, her eyes wet with tears as she reaches out for her sister. "Where have you been? We missed you so much…"

"Don't try that on with me, Rose." Christina bites her lips as she shakes her head. "You don't remember me. Not really." There's blood smeared on her clothes, dirt making her greasy hair stick up in seventy different directions. Her finger twitches on the trigger, but she doesn't shoot. Not yet. "Your brother is dead, Zeke. Doesn't that count for anything?" Her eyes flicker to him as he stands frozen behind Rose, the crooked grin still etched on his face.

"I don't even have a brother." He scoffs, trying to act easy despite his obvious unease. "Why would the death of some random Divergent kid bother me?"

Vomit rises in my throat, acid and burning as I'm filled with pure, unadultered hatred for the person I thought I could trust. "That'll be all." The soft voice sends chills up my spine and I turn around, dread making my hairs stick up on end. Christina lowers the gun, her lips forming a pout as we face her. Evelyn.

"Tris. How nice to see you again. And Christina! This is a surprise. Your sister here told me you were away." Christina bristles, her old Candor self shining through her stony exterior as she steps towards Evelyn.

"I came back to help my friends. People I care about, not that you'd know what those are."

Evelyn cocks her head to one side, her thin lips forming a maleficent smile as she delivers her fatal blow. "If you care about them so much, why did you leave in the first place?"

"I thought that being on my own would be easy, but now I understand why it's not. Now I understand why you're so bitter." She spits, taking another step forwards. Zeke tails her, taking two steps for every one she takes.

The sky overhead glows with moonlight, grey clouds creeping across the star-studded blanket like ink in a puddle of water. Evelyn smirks and clicks her fingers, and in a flash there's a pair of muscly arms wrapped around my waist. They pin my arms to my side, restricting my movement like thick rope.

I scream, kicking out at whoever has hold of me- until they hit me in the side of the head with the butt of a gun. The darkness becomes more intense as I slump against the person, my legs crumpling beneath me as my knees hit the floor. Relying on the darkness for cover, I fumble on the floor until I find Christina's fallen gun, and I tuck it into my shirt while the person standing over me struggles to regain their grip. The metal is cold against my bare skin, a trail of goose bumps rising over my stomach as the hands drag me upright once more.

"Take them inside. I think that perhaps we have a friend of theirs." Who does she mean? Cara or Tobias?

My head pounds as we march forwards, my feet dragging up the front steps of the Merciless Mart. We walk into the black and white tiled entrance hall and the harsh electric lights flicker on, revealing the still-smashed tiles lining the walls and the blood splatters that remain on the floor. My knees weaken as I notice the black bundle lying limp and pale a few metres away. Her eyes are open, staring straight at the ceiling while her blood-soaked hair trails over the cold floor. There's a tiny red circle on her forehead, blood streaked down her face in shining lines. Christina screams from a million miles away, but I feel like I am drowning as I gasp for a breath of air that is not tainted with the stench of death. Cara.

My whole body is numb as they drag us into an elevator and up three floors, pushing us down a short corridor and into separate empty rooms that probably used to be offices. The walls are torturously blank, mocking me as the door slams shut with an echoing thud. I let my knees bend and fall to the floor, touching my forehead into the rough floor as I let out a scream. First Will, shot through the brain with a bullet fired by my hand… and now Cara, his sister, met with the same fate. Her blood is on my hands, I realise as I sob into the prickly black carpet. My heart clenches in my chest as I try and push the image of her cold dead eyes out of my head, but they remain lodged in my skull, angry and accusing. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.


Someone screams from within the building, but I tighten my fingers on my knees and stay seated. There's probably other Divergent Defectors in this makeshift prison, other trapped souls lying helpless on itchy black carpet and surrounded by four white walls. The sobs continue and I feel my forehead furrow as I strain to block them out. They remind me of her, but I know that my mind is just playing tricks on me. She's not here. She's not.

My ankles ache from sitting cross-legged for so long, so I straighten them out and lie on my back, watching the unshaded bulb on the ceiling as a tiny black spider winds a silken web along the wire. The door swings open and a soldier steps in, his dark skin illuminated by the bare light. He coughs and I sit up, crossing my legs again and watching him as he considers me like a beast might consider his prey. Sticking with my rule about compliance, I get to my feet. He steps forwards and clicks a set of metal handcuffs over my outstretched wrists, then takes hold of the short length of chain and starts dragging me forwards.

We pass closed doors and I imagine that behind one of these is the screaming voice, the tortured soul. I want to hammer on the wood until they respond, then break down the door and hold them in my arms until they don't feel so sad, but the silence only sends shivers of foreboding trembling through my limbs. What if it's Cara behind that door, or Tris?

The handcuffs cut into my skin as I'm dragged further down a wider corridor, back into the elevators and down to the atrium. A body lies limp against one wall, but I'm turned away and dragged in the opposite direction. Evelyn sits behind a desk in a small room, the window behind her casting faint tones of the coming dawn onto her shoulders. To my satisfaction, she holds an ice-pack to her jaw. To my horror, she's smiling.

"Tobias, dear. Why don't you take a seat?"

"I'd prefer not to." I answer, standing stiffly as the soldier presses something cold and metallic to the small of my back. "Seriously? Do you guys not have anything better to do than stand around pushing guns into people?" It doesn't deter him- only makes him press harder.

Evelyn's eyes appear to flash red, and her eyebrows raise so high I wonder if they're going to vanish into her fringe. "Sit, Tobias. It's not a choice."

Finally I sit, holding my manacled hands awkwardly in my lap. "So?"

"This is your last chance, Tobias." The door to the room opens and then shuts, but the gun is still pressed to my back, so nobody's left. "I don't want to kill you, do you understand? You're my own flesh and blood, but traitors must be treated how the law states."

"What law? Here in this city, you're killing each other like human lives mean nothing to you. You were put here for a reason," My voice cracks, tears pricking at the edges of my eyes as I look away from her piercing stare. "You had a chance to make humanity better."

"Humanity?" A loud laugh sounds from behind me and Marcus steps in front of my chair, kneeling in front of my face. Evelyn may be afraid to hurt me, but he isn't. The faint scars on my back tingle as his voice penetrates my mind, and I close my eyes against the horrors his eyes hold. "Please Tobias, look at us when we're talking to you."

I force my eyes open again, and he's standing next to my mother, behind the desk. "We realised that together we're stronger. Together, with my brains and your father's power…" Marcus shoots Evelyn a look, and if looks could kill- it would be the deadly blow.

"Now, I don't know about that…" He interrupts, but Evelyn brushes him off with a flick of her wrist.

"We can control the city. Please son, join us. See where the real winners are."

"There are no winners." I spit, my eyes narrowed against the sight of them. "Only losers, and the people they've killed."

"Be careful what you say, Tobias." Marcus warns, but his eyes glint with pure pleasure. Only he could be enjoying this.

"I'm not going to help you. I know where my loyalties lie."

"But we're your parents." Evelyn adds, like these simple words could sway my loyalty.

"I have no parents."

Evelyn pouts and Marcus' face twists into a ball of rage. "Out!" He shouts, and the soldier grips me by the chain of my handcuffs. He drags me from the office and into the atrium, kicking me onto the tiled floor. Dried blood splatters dot the polished white marble, and I groan as I lift my head to look at the body curled in the corner.

"That's what happens to people who betray them." He whispers next to my ear, dragging me upright once more and shoving me even closer to the body. The stench of blood fills my nostrils as I look down at her grey skin, her cold hands curled at her sides. Her face is smudged with blood, her glassy eyes open and staring at the tall ceiling. A perfectly round bullet hole sits in the middle of her forehead, the edges of her skin seared with the sheer force of the blast. I choke, her name forming on my lips as I struggle to move away from her- from it. Cara.

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