Lyanna's eyes remained open as she starts to fall face first, her stomach drops and herlimbs fumble in the air for something, anything to hold on to, but there is nothing, only the drop, the air, the frantic search for the ground.

She wanted to scream for help, to curse Malachair for his action, anything at all but she couldn't, she couldn't open her mouth or relay anything from it.

She could. however, turn around, so that whatever she hit, she hit it with her back and not with her face. She preferred to watch the sky vanish than to watch her vision vanish rapidly before her, it seemed like a better way to go and if she were to die, she'd rather hit the back of her head first.

But instead of meeting a ground, Lyanna met a net and excited whispers that she could faintly make out to be from her new friends.

Her fingers grabbed the net, clinging into it almost as if she was counting her blessings and thanking dear life, which she most certainly was at that moment. The net curled around her, wrapping her in strong threads.

Her moment of relief is cut short when the net is suddently pulled to one side, throwing Lyanna to the person despite the fact she holding onto the net. And before she could ground herself once more, Lyanna came face to face with Max, a dark brown-skinned man with bruised knuckles that smiled at her with a wicked smile.

"The Judje's daughter! What a pleasant surprise." He helped Lyanna off the net, with a bit more care than the other initiates but still carelessly nonetheless. "It's Lyanna." the ginger haired girl countered the nickname that was given to her to her father's occupation.

Max merely chuckled at her and declared loudle "Lyanna. Nice to see you made it this far. Go join your fellow initiates. Amar will be down in a second with the last initiate, I'm sure."

At the mention of the last initiate Lyanna's face turned sour and her green eyes casted to the large net that caugh each of the initiates. A silent but devestating plan forming on her mind as she thought on a million ways to get him back.

"I wouldn't attempt to move the net, it's screwed in place, it doesn't budge." Mac comments as if he knew whtat was going on on Lyanna's mind making her turn to him with furrowed brows, the smile on his lips never faltered but she shuffled away from him and towards her friends.

 Malachai also jumped, although he didn0t scream much to everyone's displeasure, but he wasn't treated as nicely as Lyanna was, which did bring them part comfort when he nearly fell face flat on the concrete grown when getting off the net.

When Amar finally descended to join them, he did it in a way that put the envy of mortals to gods in the initiates. Falling and landing on the net effortlessly that it looked undeniably attractive, no matter what and who you were attracted too.

"Well Initiates, now that you are all here and that all of you survived." Amar started. "My name is Amar, I'm your initiation instructor. I grew up here, and three years ago, I passed initiation with flying colors, which means I get to be in charge of the newcomers for as long as I want. Lucky you."

His tone was both welcoming and dauntingly teasing, almost as if he was teasing the initiates with the fact that they could still fail to enter the faction, which was true.

"Dauntless-borns and transfers do most physical training separately, so that the Dauntless-borns don't break the transfers in half right away—" At this, the Dauntless-borns grin, including Zeke and Shauna, but Malachai was smirking while looking at Lyanna, face, something that the red/haired girl noticed but ignored. 

"But we're trying something different this year. The Dauntless leaders and I want to see if knowing your fears before you begin training will better prepare you for the rest of initiation. So before we even let you into the dining hall to have dinner, we're going to do some self-discovery. Follow me."

"What if I don't want to discover myself?" Zeke asked, looking at the leader questioningly. All Amar had to do is look at him for him to sink back into the group of Dauntless-borns again. Amar is like no one the Abnegation-born ever met—affable one minute and stern the next, and sometimes both at once.

He led the way down the tunnel, then stopped at a door built into the wall and shoving it open with his shoulder. The Initiates followed him into a dank room with a giant window in the back wall, looking like sheep headed for slaughter. Above them the fluorescent lights flicker and twitch, and Amar busied himself at a machine that looks a lot like the one used to administer my aptitude test. 

Erudite and Candor-borns knew that they should be scared, for Erudite created and tested the serums, they knew all of them by heart, and Candor knew that rarely something good came from taking the serums, unless one was Amity.

Dripping sound was heard—water from the ceiling is leaking into a puddle in the corner.

Another large, empty room stretches out beyond the window. There are cameras in each corner, leaving the Initiates, born or transfered, to wonder if there were cameras all over the compound.
"This is the fear landscape room," Amar announces without looking up. "A fear landscape is a simulation in which you confront your worst fears."

Arranged on the table next to the machine is a line of syringes. They look sinister to the Initiates in the flickering light, like they might as well be instruments of torture, knives and blades and hot pokers.

"How is that possible?" the Eric questions, looking as though what Amar had said was a large error that he was dying to correct. "You don't know our worst fears."

"Eric, right?" Amar says. "You're correct, I don't know your worst fears, but the serum I am going to inject you with will stimulate the parts of your brain that process fear, and you will come up with the simulation obstacles yourself, so to speak. In this simulation, unlike in the aptitude test simulation, you will be aware that what you are seeing is not real."

"Meanwhile, I will be in this room, controlling the simulation, and I get to tell the program embedded in the simulation serum to move on to the next obstacle once your heart rate reaches a particular level—once you calm down, in other words, or face your fear in a significant way. When you run out of fears, the program will terminate and you will 'wake up' in that room again with a greater awareness of your own fears."

Amar's description of what about to happen was not a nice one, at least to those who knew that they had several fears that they would rather not face.

He picks up one of the syringes and beckons to Eric. "Allow me to satisfy your Erudite curiosity," he says. "You get to go first."