The Siren was haunting Eli.

Every night, Eli woke in a cold sweat. She could not sleep without seeing her face, in blood. The nightmares weren't always the same. Some nights, she would scream and fight and plead for Eli's interference. On other nights, she merely hung there. So still and quiet that one would think she was part of the tree she was tied to.

It was not the worst thing Eli had ever done, but she hadn't been able to rest since. She would wake with a lingering weight pressed upon her chest. Laying there, she'd remember the weight of the Siren in her arms and the way she shook after spilling blood on her behalf.

It wasn't her fault - the Siren wasn't supposed to be there to begin with. How was Eli supposed to know she'd be followed? How was she supposed to expect the chaos that came after? Why would she choose someone she barely knew over the three of them? It wasn't like she never asked for her help.

When the sun was up, Eli pushed the woman out of her mind. There were other things to worry about. Maybe her exhaustion was starting to show. Director Knox didn't say anything about it, but he told her to deal with the recruits for a few days. It seemed like a tacit acknowledgment of her need for rest.

The recruits dreaded the days that Eli ended up overseeing training. It didn't happen often. Eli observed the training grounds with a chilling detachment. So what if they were struggling? It would prepare them. Alex thought she was too hard on them, but it was a necessary evil to weed out the weak and forge the strong.

The brutal exercises were all tools, in her eyes, to separate the resilient from the fragile. She didn't flinch when a recruit was struck down or when a plea for mercy fell on deaf ears. They'd recover. They'd learn. If not, they'd die out there.

Her voice, when she spoke, was icy, devoid of empathy. "Training is not for the faint-hearted," she would say, her tone cutting through the air like a blade. "If you can't deal with this, you're useless against the Republic."

But, admittedly, there were occasions when she had to step in and stop the trainers from going too far. It wasn't out of compassion but to maintain order, to ensure that the Elites remained a force to be reckoned with.

To Eli, the abuses in the training grounds were a necessary evil, a means to an end.

"One of our recruits disappeared," Alex said tiredly one morning. "I thought they meant he was dead. But he just ran off. It's the third one this year."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "It's not like they say bye. Who knows."

They were too low on manpower to ignore something like this.

Suspicion crept up on her when she was overlooking training that day. She was quiet about her arrival, slipped in a little later than usual, and didn't think there was any need to interrupt.

She scanned the training grounds, her eyes narrowing as she witnessed the Elites in charge of training abusing their authority. One of the newest recruits was being pushed around physically, despite the blood streaming out his nose.

Idiots. To see the trainers like this was irritating - nothing about throwing them around like this was pragmatic. The rebellion needed every ablebody it could muster. The possibility of losing recruits due to fear and brutality was a luxury they couldn't afford. Maybe it was why one Alex mentioned had run off.

With a deliberate stride, Eli approached the group of Elites, her presence sending ripples of tension through the air. She didn't need to speak; the abusive instructor stopped in her tracks, surprised and apprehensive.

"What are you doing?" Eli's voice cut through the silence. "We need these recruits. Scaring them off with unnecessary brutality will only weaken us."

"We're testing their resolve," she retorted defiantly.

Eli's eyes narrowed dangerously. "There's testing and there's breaking," she said, her voice low and menacing. "We want soldiers, not broken souls."

As she walked away, Eli's mind churned with distrust. The abuse of power within their ranks was a cancer, one that threatened the very foundation of the Elites. She needed to keep an eye on those who took part in this sort of cruelty. It didn't just jeopardize the recruits but also eroded the unity among the Elites.

If this was happening so openly within headquarters, more might have been going on within their ranks.

Eli wasn't one to socialize with the other Elites beyond what was necessary. She did what was necessary for camaraderie, to make sure they'd come to her when she needed them and would remain obedient. She only paid attention on a surface level. Superficial, but enough to instill a sense of trust and reliance within the ranks. Always asking about their living relatives and recently obtained injuries, ticking off boxes on a checklist of feigned concern.

Nobody had seen through it yet. Then again, Eli did choose the ones who were more susceptible to this sort of thing.

The approach was a deftly struck balance between presenting an appearance of interest and maintaining a safe distance. These gestures, though mere tokens of engagement, held a profound influence on fostering a semblance of rapport. So far, it was always enough.

But maybe it wasn't. She should have heard something about the instructors. Maybe she needed to make more of an effort with the newer recruits and the trainers and lay down some roots among them.

Eli started to pay more attention - ate with the trainers and "checked up" on them. It served her well enough - she noticed a strangeness in the behavior among them. It was in the way some glanced at the recruits, sizing them up like prey. In overheard snippets of conversations that sounded more like hushed conspiracies than tactical discussions or teaching methods.

One evening, as Eli approached a group of Elites, she caught the tail end of a conversation that sent alarm bells ringing in her mind.

"Did you hear about the latest recruit?"

"Shut up. Why are you always so loud?"

Eli's eyes narrowed as she observed their exchange from the shadows. Something was definitely off.

In another instance, she saw an Elite whispering to a recruit in hushed tones. Their conversation seemed harmless, but there was an undercurrent of something she couldn't quite place.

Approaching them casually, Eli feigned nonchalance, striking up a conversation with the recruit. "How's the training going?" she asked.

The recruit hesitated before responding, clearly nervous. "It's... it's going fine, I guess. Just trying to keep up."

There was a determined glint in their eyes. An air of naivety about them, an innocence that hadn't yet been tainted by the harsh realities of their fight against the Republic. The recruit seemed genuine, and enthusiastic about the cause. Yet, there was an underlying tension in the air, a sense that something was amiss.

Eli's eyes flickered toward the Elite who had spoken to the recruit earlier. Their gaze met, and Eli saw a flicker of guilt and fear in the Elite's eyes before they quickly looked away.

That night, Eli couldn't shake off the feeling that something sinister was at play within their ranks. No matter how hard Eli searched, she couldn't find concrete evidence of any sort of betrayal she sensed lurking within their ranks. The Elites continued their covert conversations, their actions laden with secrecy, but they were careful not to reveal anything incriminating. Yet, something was undeniably off, a disquieting undercurrent that left her more paranoid than usual.

Days turned into nights as Eli kept a vigilant watch, her instincts on high alert. The Elites' behavior became increasingly erratic, their interactions with the recruits growing colder and more distant. The abuse, though, had stopped after her interference a few days ago. At least within her line of sight,

One night, Eli stumbled upon a whispered conversation between two Elites. Their words were too soft to discern, but the urgency in their voices sent alarm bells ringing in Eli's mind.

Suspicion gnawed at her. She couldn't pinpoint the source of the unease, but she knew that their unity was slipping away, replaced by a chilling atmosphere of distrust. Eli's search for the truth became relentless. Fueled by her intuition and a growing sense of urgency, she decided to dig deeper, hoping to find any clues that would confirm her suspicions. Her focus shifted to uncovering a possible paper trail, though she wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for.

Eli meticulously searched through the instructors' files, flipping through documents, and scanning messages, her eyes scanning for any inconsistencies or peculiarities.

The Elites were meticulous; their records were organized and cryptic, making it challenging to discern anything out of the ordinary. Eli was a detective in a labyrinth, trying to solve a puzzle without knowing the shape of the pieces.

She spent hours hunched over dimly lit tables, her fingers tracing lines of text, her eyes growing weary. Each piece of paper she examined was a potential clue, a possible lead that could unravel the truth.

Days turned into nights, and Eli's efforts intensified. She began to notice patterns, subtle shifts in language, and discrepancies in the reports about the runaway Enhanced. Something was hidden beneath the surface, something some didn't want anyone to see. The more she searched, the more convinced she became that her intuition was right; there was a betrayal within their ranks.