"What was that?" came Asher's shaken voice.

"I couldn't just leave her to be experimented on," Kalista said roughly. "Plus, these people -- you guys -- you killed the President! You killed the Collective! If not for that stupid partner rule I would have killed you already."

Asher ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Kalista, no. They're lying to you. Do you even have proof that the Collective is gone? Do you have proof that this bombing even happened?"

"I trust Aeternum more than I trust some rebels like you," she shot back. "How did they let you back in, anyway? I bet they really loved you after you gave my parents up to be executed. What was Raphael thinking? I would've just killed--"

"Raphael is gone."

Kalista blinked. "Raphael? How?"

Asher let his head fall back against the wall and closed his eyes. His voice was laced with pain when he continued. "A year ago, the Collective raided Quinton Corners. I don't know how they found us; it must have been a spy, or a double agent, or someone..." He swallowed. "They came with their machine guns. They took 50 of us prisoner -- 50 members of the Crimson Division -- and killed everyone else."

The Crimson Division had been Kalista's group -- those born from 2980 to 2990. Those 50 must have been the ones reserved for Finals... but how would the Collective have known that they would need them? Kalista bit her lip as Asher continued.

"Warren, Elpher, Raphael... they're all gone," he whispered. "I saw the soldiers shoot them with my own eyes. Those white uniforms... they were everywhere. They've been lying to you. There is no rebel movement. There are no rebels. There's no one left."

Kalista's mind spun. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. For the last seven years, she had assumed that her old friends were still out there. She had worked to bring them down in practice missions, where they would draw out plans for generals to deal with the next rebel attacks. Even though she had turned her back on them, she had assumed they were still out there. She couldn't imagine that her old home was completely gone -- the dimly lit barracks underground, the training rooms where she learned to flip and twist and throw, and the watchtowers built of brick with their long, spiral staircases. She had grown up there, and she couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of sadness at its demise.

But it was what she wanted. It was what she had been working for.

Right?

She shook her head to clear it and blurted out, "No. No, it can't be. They told us you were getting stronger... you killed the Collective! The bomb--"

"Was fake, Kalista," Asher said exasperatedly. "Think about it. How could we have gotten a bomb into the Chambers? There's a dome around it, for god's sake! You think your parents and Raphael never thought about simply blowing them up? Of course they did! Why would we use covert operations when we could just use a bomb? Kalista, they have ten -- no, twenty layers of security. We could never get through."

Kalista pressed a cool hand to her forehead, dizzy with the implications. Aeternum was lying? The President was alive? But why would the Collective lie to them? Why would they kill off all of the world's most promising youth? They were the future. They were the next in line.

Or were they?

"You don't have proof," she found herself saying. "Why should I believe you? You've lied -- you lied to me for years. You killed my parents. You left me to die. How can I believe that you were let back in? The Raphael I knew -- he was my parents' best friend. He would have shot you himself."

Asher glanced out the door and took a deep breath. "K, this--"

"I said, don't call me that!"

He looked flustered. "All right, I'm sorry. This is going to take a long time to explain and we don't have that time right now, okay? All I'm asking is for you to trust me. Please. It wasn't all a lie, I promise."

He reached into his right boot and pulled out a marble star.

Kalista couldn't believe her eyes.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you..." she sang off-key, holding the small bread ration in her grimy hands like it was a four-tier wedding cake. "Happy birthday, you asshole, happy birthday to you."

Asher grinned up at her from his place on the bottom bunk. "Aww, K, I'm flattered. Thank you so much for this great honor."

She smiled back and jumped on the bed next to him. Setting the plate on her lap, she tore the bread into two pieces and gave him one. "I present to you: the best bread you'll ever taste."

His eyes sparkled as he shoved it into his mouth, devouring it in seconds. It was the only meal they would have all day. "Wow, that sure is good. Got some earthy flavor in it."

Kalista flushed. "Yeah, I dropped it on the way here."

Asher raised one eyebrow and pretended to spit it out.

Laughing, Kalista reached into her pocket and pulled out two pieces of carefully chiseled marble. The idea had come to her on her last scouting mission, when she had found an old marble countertop in the dumpster she was hiding in. The minutes that she had spent trying to break off a small piece had almost earned her a bullet to the head. She had worked on them for weeks, sneaking out to the training center for an hour every night and using the knives to carve them into shapes. They were supposed to be stars, but the edges were uneven and there was one spot that just wouldn't come off, leaving a bump in a corner. Sheepishly, she threw one at Asher and he caught it deftly.

Asher looked at his star like it was pure gold. "It's beautiful," he breathed. "Where did you even -- how?"

"It didn't take that long," she lied, nudging him playfully with her right foot. "And now you owe me. Don't forget! I'm expecting at least ten dollars for my next birthday. Maybe one of those sugar cookies, too."

"Of course," Asher murmured, twirling the star between his fingers. "I promise."

Kalista scowled and looked away. "Don't, Asher. I learned long ago to stop trusting your promises."

All she had gotten on that birthday was two dead parents and a knife to the shoulder.

Asher blinked, but he couldn't hide the pain that had filled his eyes. "Kalista -- there's something I need to show you."

Before he could continue, the loudspeaker crackled to life and Aeternum's disembodied voice echoed throughout the school. Asher threw his hands up in frustration and leaned back against the wall. Kalista couldn't stop glancing at that worn marble star, that star that told her so much, that star that she knew, she knew she couldn't trust. But she could feel herself beginning to anyway.

"Congratulations on making it to the final twenty-five! In honor of this great achievement, we have a challenge for you all. There will be rewards for the first pairs to complete it, and punishments for those who don't."

"Great," Kalista muttered.

"There are twenty-five slips of paper hidden in the school," Aeternum continued. "Each slip is worth a different gift. These gifts range from meals to weapons, and the most helpful of them all contains the sole key to a safe room, where you will be able to stay for 24 hours. Once all of the slips have been collected, the gifts will be delivered to you. Your goal is to get as many of these slips as you can. If you do not get any, you will be eliminated.

"As always, we wish you the best of luck."

In the silence that followed, Kalista listened carefully for any signs of movement outside, but there were none. She took a deep breath and pushed herself off the wall.

"We might as well start," she sighed. "Come on, there are these black training suits that we can change into in the back room. Might disguise us a little."

To her surprise, Asher followed her. Now that they had a mission to complete, the tension was somewhat suspended, replaced with a sense of purpose that drowned the rest out. She could deal with the truth later. Right now, she needed to find some of those slips.

"The best strategy is a methodical search," she explained as they jogged to the back room. "We start on the fifth floor and move down. Search every room. If we grab a few weapons, we should be able to fight off any people we meet on the way. Maybe a pistol and a knife -- one for long distance and one for short distance. And a grenade."

She grabbed a female training suit for herself and tossed a male training suit at Asher. Her blue school uniform was bright and stained with blood, making her a glaring target. Entering one of the changing rooms, she undressed quickly and sighed with relief as the smell of blood left her.

The training suit was perfect -- dark and airtight, with protection around the heart, neck, and stomach. She stepped outside to see Asher in his as well. They were a team now, and like it or not, her survival depended on him. She would need to find a way to ignore the past for now.

"Hey, K," Asher whispered, staring at the edge of the doorframe. There was a sliver of white shoved in there. "Is that a slip?"

She came closer and smiled. "Oh, yeah." Grabbing her knife, she managed to wiggle it out and breathed a sigh of relief. "At least we won't be eliminated." She unfolded the slip to reveal a piece of paper about the size of an index card.

The message was written in the pristine, rounded font of the Collective.

Sometimes the simplest things come into use at the most important times. For this slip of paper, you get a penny.

"Great."