Maya Jimenez

Final Draft

Part 1
****
Every head swung to the motion of the transporter. I rubbed my hands together, then wiped
them on my jeans. Tomorrow, a brand new badge would be gleaming on my chest. Each seat
faced the other. Each seat held a tense teenager, waiting for the test that would determine the
rest of their lives, my life.

My elbows dug into my side and I steadied myself against the pole next to me. I drew a breath.
Stay calm, I think. I lifted my head to face Amaia, the only person who kept me calm. She stared
out the window. We both had spent time researching what job we were drawn to most. I always
watched the Idealists from my window as they spread out under trees or in them at that, but it
was the INFJ’s that intrigued me the most. The rarest and the most mysterious type of all the 16.
My type. Ever since we were little, Amaia always knew who she was, though. I never did, and
probably never will. What if that makes me a glitch?

“Arson! It’s time to go,” spoke Amaia, looping her arm around mine. We walked off the
transporter and into the sunlight courtyard where the A.R.I.G tree stood, Amaia’s favorite thing
about The Central. Then we headed inside.

The Central was as crowded as ever. People within elbows length of each other and the low rise
of a dozen conversations threatened to get louder with anticipation. We passed the entrance
and were in a long hallway, a little wider than the transporter. Faces I knew passed by, giving me
reassuring smiles, but I knew inside they were as nerve-wrecked as I was. The walls of people
were so thick I couldn’t even see the stage. After shuffling forward for awhile, the wall thinned
and the arena was visible. “The Arena” was what the Idealists called it since it seemed deadlier
than it was supposed to be comforting. Comforting, I thought.

It was a large gathering center filled with chairs built into the marble floor that were divided into
four levels reaching as high as your neck could go. The walls were made of mirrors so we could
see our anxious selves, walk by, one of the many techniques of our government.

The stage where we would have the ceremony was menacing. It sat facing The Arena, big and
black with stairs and a ramp on each side. It seemed more menacing than even due to the fact
that it was where we would sit when it was time for the ceremony, if you had the right results. At
the back side of the stage were four tunnels with the four temperament names engraved at the
top of each one. Amaia held onto me as we climbed higher into the Idealists side of the seating.
Taking two seats closest to the mirrors, we settled down and waited for the announcement to
begin. Emery, the leader of the Guardians and ultimately the leader of A.R.I.G, stepped up from
the shadows.

“As you know, many years ago when the knowledge and advantages we have were not as high,
two extraordinary people named Isabel Myers and Katharine Cook Briggs founded the different
personalities that we have here in our world. They created a system to enable people to grow
through an understanding and appreciation of individual differences in healthy personalities and
to enhance harmony and productivity in diverse groups. And that is what we have done. We
have based our organized society on the efficient work of those two women.
“Our four temperaments: the Guardians, Artisans, the Idealists, and the Rationals, are the
groups we are sorted into. In those four groups we have the different personality types that
makes us up as a person. In the Guardians he have our ISTJs, the purple Inspectors, ISFJ the
scarlet Nurturers, ESFJs, the verdant Protectors, and ESTJs the magenta Superiors. In the
Artisans we have our ISFPs, the salmon Originators, ISTPs, the slate Engineers, ESFPs, the
orange Agriculturists, and ESTPs the turquoise Couriers. In the Idealists we have our INFPs, the
hazel Strategically, INFJs, the navy Advisers, ENFJs, the azure Educators, and ENFPs, the rose
Authors. In the last temperament, the Rationals, we have our INTJs, the white Scientists, INTPs,
the mustard Repairers, ENTJs, the coal Magistrates, and ENTPs, the flaxen Visionaries.

“I am very sure that you young people have learned enough about the important duties of each
job and have memorized their colors.” A few nodded. “Now it has come the time to take the
MBTI tests and discover what job is yours. Please follow the test administrators.” Then Emery
disappeared into wherever the Superiors went. That knowledge wasn’t available to us.

We rose and headed to one of the tunnels at the edge of the stage with the title, Idealists at the
top. Amaia squeezed my arm and let go. We headed into the gaping hole together.
Darkness enveloped us. Several teenagers whooped while they walked until the administrators
shouted at them to stop. “Extraverts…”, Amaia murmured. I laughed softly, but I heard the
nervousness in my voice. The bit of light at the edge became stronger and stronger and for
some reason the ground seemed to be getting steeper and steeper. “Where are we?”, I asked
her, but someone else answered.

“We’re going underground, ” Theo, Amaia’s neighbor, told us. I recognized his smooth voice. I’d
never talked to him much. I’d only seen him at school or with his brother around the
headquarters of the Idealists, but we had a mutual understanding of each other. “But we never
take the tests down here,” I countered. “That’s because this isn’t just another test. This is the
test,” he whispered leaning right in my ear. Then he laughed and so did Amaia.

When we got to end, I realized there wasn’t any light, just white walls where the tunnel ended.
Six doors. Two on each wall. “45 people at each door,” commanded one the administrator.
Amaia grabbed my arm again.

As soon as everyone was counted, the administrator strode over to a room with glass windows.
I watched as he stepped in, locked the door, and punched in a code that swing the doors open.
Immediately every person flooded through the doors. There were rows of beds with white sterile
sheets which reminded me vaguely of a hospital. My insides writhed. A woman was waiting at
the edge of the room.

“My name is Jade and I will be your MBTI test instructor. When responding, of the many
responses, please choose the one you agree with most. These situations are based on your
interaction with the world, absorption of information, decision making, and organization. If you
are not sure how to answer, make your choice based on your most typical response or feeling in
the given situation.” Her smile was too sugary.

Amaia and I sat in a row towards the end. “Ready for the rest of our lives?” I nodded unable to
speak. Above us a platform lowered between the rows of beds. On it held a vial filled with clear
liquid. “A vial for each person please. Drink it and then lay down,” Jade said.
I took it, raised a toast to Amaia and laughed, but it came out more like a cry. I swallowed it in
one gulp. It tasted like water, but I couldn’t convince myself that it was. Laying back down, I took
one last look at Amaia. Her eyes were already closed.

Part 2
****
I sat up and ran a hand through my hair. I felt my mouth shape into a grin, relieved that it was. I
looked over to see if Amaia was awake. She wasn’t there. I threw my legs across the bed, but a
buzzer went off as soon as my feet hit the ground. Heart racing, I gripped the sides of the bed
until my knuckles went white.

Where was she? Releasing my aching hands, I finally heard it. It came from behind the doors
we had entered from. The doors were thrown wide and I spotted Amaia, arms thrashing as she
fought to get away from two guardians who were keeping a hold on her. Pain coursed through
my body both mental and physical. “Arson!”, she cried.

“A glitch…” I heard people murmuring. “No…”, I whispered barely audible to anyone else. The
buzzer went off, blaring louder as I ran farther away. “Amaia!”, I called out. Where was I even
going? I couldn’t save her. A Guardian did something to her shock cuffs and she went limp in
their arms. A pained cry escaped my mouth I got as far as the door where we had first infiltrated
until a Guardian seized my arm. With a wrench, I escaped him as the door began to close, but I
didn’t see that another one was onto me. Amaia took one last wide petrified look at me before
they carried her away. “No!”, I hollered in angst. But there was nothing I could do.

She was a glitch. A danger to society. And my greatest friend. I pounded on the door for what
felt like an eternity, until they finally managed to pull me away. I kicked and wrestled Guardians
who practically carried me to an isolation room and locked me in. I sunk to the ground, unable
to lift my head. The walls here were white here too, but so blinding that my head began to
pound and I had to close my eyes. When I opened them I found a black screen. In it I could see
my reflection that manifested signs of bruising and now overwhelming sadness. I missed Amaia.
But she was a Glitch and they had already taken her away from me. Shaken from my thoughts
by a noise I couldn’t decipher, I looked up from my wretched position. It had come from the
screen.

“Hello young citizen of A.R.I.G,” a pleasantly artificial voice announced. The screen displayed a
photo of the middle of The Central where an enormous tree stood. The A.R.I.G tree, her tree. “If
you are here today it is because you have been confused about how our society functions
particularly in the area of genetic malfunctions or what citizens call Glitches.”

My hands clenched and I balled them into fists. I didn’t notice the blood that began to trickle
down my wrists. “Glitches are people who have more than one personality Type and
Temperament.” The Temperament headquarters flashed on the screen. My head throbbed
harder when I glimpsed our apartments.

“As you can see, this is a problem for the community. Temperaments are separated as to avoid
conflict. In older times, conflicting Temperaments resulted in war and destruction.” Gory images
of blood-reddened land strewn with bodies were shown. I stood and steadily walked towards it,
studying them.

“In order to keep at peace with each other we must learn to accept each other's differences.” An
illustration of people laughing and talking showed up next. That used to be us, I thought.
“Glitches, however, are the loose thread in the tightly woven fabric of A.R.I.G, a puzzle piece
that will never fit.” The words filled the room, amplifying each syllable. The woman’s voice
making my head pound harder with frustration.

“Glitches are too different to be accepted.” The walls soaked the words. I could hear my
heartbeat in my hands when I covered my ears with them, trying to block out the sound. “This is
why they are sent away from us and secluded so that they cannot harm anyone.” Amaia would
never hurt anyone. “It is better this way.” I crouched on the floor, rocking back and forth.

“No it isn’t!”, I shouted.

“Thank you for being a valued citizen of our community. We welcome you and hope that you
have learned your place in A.R.I.G. Remember, You are your Type and your Type is your future.
Have a wonderful day.” Silence engulfed me and I sat there waiting to be let out of this
nightmare.

Amaia’s face occupied my thoughts for however many hours I was left there. How we used to sit
on the grass and try to make out shapes in the clouds or make fun of the Superiors when we
went to community meetings. My breaths grew heavy. What would they do to her? Everyone
was allowed to know as much as we needed to about The Alliance. As much as we needed to
be terrified of it.

I had to do something. There was no chance I was going to sit around and forget. I had already
raised enough suspicion. I needed to lie low. I looked around.

Diminutive black disks were positioned at each corner of the room. Cameras, I noted. The door
swung open. The Guardian that had taken me in stood in the doorway. “Calmed down have
you?”, he asked tentatively. I nodded solemnly, seething on the inside. “Come on, let’s give you
your results and get you to the ceremony.”
I walked back the way we had came in a haze until we reached the stage where Emery had said
her negligible speech. Now I knew the reason why this test was taken down here: so that we
couldn’t escape.

Everyone who had tested were split into four groups of chairs in columns along the stage. Every
seat in the arena was filled with family members, parents, and citizens all waiting to hear what
we would be doing with the rest of our lives. “There you are, right next to the Rationals,” he said
pushing me from one end to the other.

“What about my results?”, I asked even though I as good as knew already. “Oh right, let’s see,”
he pulled up a tablet from his belt. “Your name?”, he asked. “Arson Wright” He looked up at me.
“Like the crime?” I was about to retort, but remembered I needed to stay on their good side for
Amaia. “No my parents thought it was creative since it sounded like ‘our son’. The Protector
thought this over for a while, then continued. “You are… 66% Introverted...57% iNtuitive...51%
Feeling...and 84% Judging.” I nodded at this, not very surprised. “Thanks,” I told him and started
towards the Idealists section. “Who woulda thought a Mystie-,” I heard him mutter before I left to
climb up the stairs.

Mystie was the Type's name for us. Short for mystic and mysterious because that’s what we
were. We were the rarest types which made us the least and most popular of all types. Types
hated us for being too powerful as history said we were and Types loved us for being so wise.
We rarely disrupted the system.

I walked up from behind the stage and saw the seat that would attract the least possible
attention next to Theo. He leaned in towards me as subtly as possible. “What were you
thinking?” He almost sounded angry. “I did better than you did which was nothing,” my tone was
beginning to rise. I cleared my throat and glanced around.

“I need help. She can’t stay there,” I said it so quietly I couldn’t even hear myself with all the
noise from the crowd. Theo seemed to understand though. “There are things people aren’t
supposed to do.” I glared at him ready to strike, but I knew I had some composure left. “You
coward. She’s your friend and you're just going to let her go to that place?” He looked away and
I felt pride in his shame. “Well I’m not and I don’t care what I have to do. I’ll do it alone if I have
to.” Theo snorted. “Do what exactly?” I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. “I don’t know,” I
sighed. “And anyways we can’t talk here.”

No one seemed to be paying any attention to our conversation. Then I noticed something. A girl
with a sharp nose and sleek hair appeared to be staring in our direction. She looked away as
soon as I caught her eye.“Who’s that girl over there on the Guardian's side?”, I questioned.
“That’s Alexis, Emery’s daughter. Her lap dog more like it,” he replied looking over at her too.
Her posture perfect, her face as if it were sculpted out of marble.
“I didn’t know Emery had a daughter. How do you even know that?” Theo shrugged and shrunk
back into his chair. He closed his eyes as if thinking something over.

Theo licked his lips. “Look, just answer me one question: Do you denounce A.R.I.G?” I gaped at
him. How could he say such a statement? And why was it so dangerous to say? A.R.I.G...they
had taken my personality, my personal morals, my choices and now my best friend?

“I hate it with all my heart.” Theo gave a satisfied smirk and turned towards The Arena like
nothing had happened. “Good.” The lights dimmed.

I turned behind us where our flag waved. My hatred grew more intense the longer I looked at it.
Emery stepped up from the middle and to the front of the stage so that her back faced us. The
crowd’s applause was mild. My eyes searched the crowd for Cy, the only person in the world
that I loved as much as Amaia.

“Hello and welcome to this year’s Temperamental Ceremony of Types.” The crowd cheered and
most of us shifted uneasily in our seats. “Here before us is the future generation of Guardians,
the security seekers of the element Earth”-the guardians cheered with poise.

“Idealists the identity seekers of the element Water -” we cheered a little quietly. “Rationals the
knowledge seekers of the element -” the Rationals hurrahed. “And last, but most certainly not
least, the Artisans, the sensation seekers of the element air.” The Artisans cheered with ear-
piercing whistles and shouts.

“On this day almost a hundred years ago, the original Artisans, Rationals, Idealists and
Guardians established this beautiful community of people.” But not once did she mention
glitches who are “too different to be accepted.”

“They take the MBTI test and are placed into their very own Temperament and are fit into one of
sixteen Types based on their personalities that has it’s own job and color to the liking of the
person. The ceremony in which we are celebrating today honors that organized system. You
are your Type and your Type is your future.” The crowd echoed the motto back to her. I didn’t
say a word.

Her smile would’ve seemed genuine if Amaia was safe. “Now we will begin with the sorting
which we will have in alphabetical order by first name.” A teleprompter appeared in front of her
eyes with the list of our names. She smiled and read the first name, “Alexis Leola.” Forced
applause went off as the girl I caught eyes with headed towards her mother.

“Alexis Leola and her results conclude that she is part of the Temperament, Guardians and the
Type, ESTJ. Her color is magenta. Her job will be to lead the people of the city with structure,
organization, and harmony as a Superior. Congratulations Miss Leola.”
Emery held her at arm’s length, looking pleased and Alexis wrapped her mother in a small
embrace. I thought she looked a little disgusted. “Just like mommy,” Theo muttered under his
breath his arms folded across his chest as he watched Alexis take her seat.

“Arson Wright,” Emery’s razor-edged voice cleared my thoughts. No, it was Amaia’s turn. She
always went before me. I felt my face flush with rage as my skin became warmer and warmer.
The sound of my heart pounding was all I heard as I stood up. Each step filled me with a new
kind of feeling, indignation for them acting as if she didn’t exist, shame that I couldn’t face her
parents in the Idealist section looking confused then terrorized, loathing at (evil dictator’s name)
smile that was just so fake.

As I took my place next to her, I spotted Cy’s face, stern yet anxious. Cy who cared for Amaia
just as I do. I gritted my teeth. “Arson Wright and his results conclude that he is part of the
Temperament Idealists, and the Type, INFJ. His color is navy. His job will be to advise the
citizens and help them understand themselves as an Advisor. Congratulations Mr. Wright.”

Closer to her, I could see marks of age. Wrinkles and sunspots scattered her face. When she
was broadcasted live on our screens, usually conveying a message, she always appeared to
have flawless, pristine skin, like her daughter. Fake to the core, I thought. I wanted to scream at
her until I lost my voice, but if I did, I’d never get the chance to save Amaia. So I pasted a smile
on my face, one much like hers, despite the intense hatred that was burning inside of me. Her
eyes lingered, making me feel vulnerable. She must’ve known what I had done.

“It is better this way,” she cooed so that only I could hear. I swallowed trying to bite words back,
but I couldn’t help it. “No, it isn’t,” I spat and headed back to my seat. Her gaze remained the
same, but she proceeded to read from the list.

I only payed attention to one other result. “Theodore Reed.” Theo winked at me and sauntered
up. “Theodore Reed and his results conclude that he is part of the Temperament, Idealists and
the Type INFP. His color is hazel. His job will be to identify and oversee long term goals in order
to help A.R.I.G achieve them. Congratulations Mr. Reed.”

“Ready to work with the Guardians?”, I asked him. There was a spark of mischief in his eyes.
“Oh, I don’t plan on it.”

Part 3
****
“An Advisor just like your mother,” After at least 10 minutes of searching in the courtyard,
I had finally found Cy underneath the A.R.I.G tree. “She’d be proud. So would your dad.” I gave
him a sad smile. I had never known them, only that they had died in a Transporter accident. Cy
was my mother’s brother who luckily was an Idealist, an ENFJ. “It’s a difficult job she said.
People blame you for ruining their lives.” He laughed, but I couldn’t bring myself to.

“Cy, you know about...Amaia?” Cy’s laughter faded. Then came an expression I had never seen.
He took my arm and dragged me to the corner of Central . There were fewer people and more
bushes. He took a wild look around. He was checking for cameras.

“She’s a glitch isn’t she? I knew it from the beginning. She’s too smart.” He shook his head. “You
didn’t do anything to make them think you were close did you?” I told him about what had
happened. Cy swore aloud which he did often, but never this severe.

“Arson, you need to listen to me. Don’t do anything foolish. You might think you want to help her,
but you can’t. It’s...you-you just can’t. You have to let her go.” I stared at him angrily and stood.

“Arson!”, he called. “Arson please!”, his tone became pleading, but I was already gone.

I pushed and shoved my way through the clusters of people that were scattered inside Central. I
hoisted myself onto the stage and searched for Theo.

“Who are you looking for?”, a sweet sounding voice emerged beside me. Alexis sat swinging her
legs at the edge of the stage.

“No one,” I muttered. “I know who...it’s that one boy, Reed. His brother works with my mother.” I
resisted, but I couldn’t help staring at her. It was absurd at how she could assume something so
quickly of a person she had never met.

“Why does it interest you to know what I’m doing?” She said, standing a little too close to me.
Her voice matched the way she smelled, subtle vanilla.“Because I know about your glitch
friend,” she whispered. I stopped breathing for a moment. “And I can help.” Desperation took
hold of me. “How? What can you do?”, I demanded.

“Well, first off, I found Reed.” She jutted her chin towards the top of the arena where he was
sitting watching the people down below. But all of a sudden her eyes widened. “See you later.
Maybe I’ll come to you for advice and we can talk.” Then, as her mother had, she vanished.

All the same. I couldn’t trust anyone so close to the enemy. I slid off the stage and marched up
to Theo, determined to get answers. He had to know something.

About six hours later, I was crouching between the bushes outside of Idealist headquarters
waiting for Theo. He said that if I trusted him, I would wait for him and he would show me
something that would help us. It was the only thing I could hold onto so I stood by.
“Hey! Arsonist! You made it,” Theo announced creeping up behind me. He had a backpack
secured on his shoulders and wore a sweater with the hood over his head.

“Yeah and I hope it wasn’t a mistake,”I said, my breath coming out in wisps of fog. I followed him
as we crept along the Idealists community, taking weird turns and heading towards a place I’d
never been. At least all that running around was warming me up.

“Where are we?”, I hissed. We had reached the edge of A.R.I.G where a forest of dark,
shadowy trees formed a canopy around the headquarters. In school we learned that nothing
was beyond the forest and that it just kept going, never stopping. They taught that the deeper
you went the more deadly animals, insects, and plants there were. I had never seen a reason to
disobey the law and I had to convince Amaia not to. Of course there were Types that were not
as obedient as others and we never heard from them again.

“Come on, we’ll have to run if we wanna make it,” he told me. “Give me your wrist.” He pulled
out a clear piece of plastic with a symbol I had never seen before.

“Why?”, I asked him, whispering fiercely.

“So that they can’t track you. This tattoo clouds the tracker in your Type tattoo so that they still
think you’re safe in your bed.” He grabbed my wrist and slapped the tattoo on which
automatically wrapped itself. Then he did the same thing to himself.

“If we go in, we’re breaking the law,” I notified him.

“But you hate A.R.I.G with all your guts. Why do you care what they say?” He smirked and ran
ahead. I followed hoping that wherever he was taking me would help Amaia. Finally, we reached
a tree that didn’t look special to me, but I guess it did to Theo. “Help me, we’re looking for a
wooden panel,” Even here he was whispering, but I guess you can never be too safe. “Got it”,
he panted, calling me over. He kept a fleeting look around, then opened up a panel which
branches and leaves slid off. I hesitated.

“Well come on,” he insisted. Then he slipped inside and let go. I lowered myself slowly, took a
deep breath and let go. The sensation in my stomach made me want to scream, but I held it in. I
was falling and it didn’t last long. My body met something light and mesh. “A net…”, I breathed.
Theo extended a hand to me.

We were in an underground cavern. I could tell by the earth smelled, wet and organic. It had
become stronger. The temperature had rose as well from the bitter cold to humid and damp on
my skin.
Light bulbs hung from walls and illuminated the scene. The gigantic net I had just fallen into
covered the floor and across from it was a checkpoint similar to the Idealists where we had to
raise our wrists and scan them to prove we were part of that Temperament. Theo placed his
wrist underneath the scanner and a door slid open. I did the same and walked through. I was
not prepared for what came next.

If Central was large, it did not compare to this underground society. People of all Types hurried
around, gathering things. Above them, dozens of light bulbs were strung making everything
visible. The levels of floors were platforms connected to stairs. Maps and other pieces of
information were strung along the walls while groups of people stood around them making notes
before bringing them to a gigantic table in the center of it all. Dozens of people were situated
around it looking as if they were preparing for a meeting. A tunnel that headed in the direction of
the Rational’s headquarters was lit up next to us, like the ones in The Central.

“Still hope it’s not a mistake?” Theo said, playfully punching my arm. I stood there, mouth
agape, until he told me to follow him.

“Look who I recruited today, Vince. Our very own Arsonist.” Theo’s older brother walked over
from the table and towered over him. I’d only met him a few times from when Amaia had
introduced us though I didn’t know him personally. “How do you know we can trust him?”, Vince
inquired.

I took a step back. “Come on, he’s a Mystie! Mysties can’t backstab.” Vince took a long look at
me. He had the same sharp, jutting facial features that his little brother had. “What do you think
Pacey? He look trustworthy to you?”, Vince called out to an older looking woman. She was at
the head of the table examining papers that were strewn in a scattered manner. She looked up
for a second, locking her steely green eyes on me. They widened and I felt the beating of my
heart clearly now. “What are your motives?”

I looked to Theo. “But what is this place?” Vince gawked at his brother. “You didn’t tell him who
we were?” Theo walked to a chair and slumped in it. “Another reason why we can trust him.”
“What are your motives first?”, Pacey demanded in a set tone.

What did I have to lose? “My friend...his neighbor,” I gestured towards Theo, “Her results were
that she was a glitch.” Mostly everyone was staring at me now. “I want to break her out.” Vince
peered at Theo with a look of disbelief. Theo nodded his head at Vince.

Pacey stacked her papers and folded her hands in front of her. They were calloused and
scarred. “Sit and we can tell you everything.” I sat down in a chair next to a man who looked
only a few years older than me. Vince sat on my left. Everyone settled down, either looking at
me or at Pacey.
“Arson,” she said it in a motherly tone and a few people whispered around me. “Have you ever
heard of people, in the past, trying to overthrow A.R.I.G? Rioting against the Superiors?” Cy had
told me about people who rebelled a long time ago, but only that I should never have anything
to do with them. “Yes.”

She smiled tenderly. “Good. We are trying revive that. Our organization is called The Arc.
People who were tired of being unable to dictate their choices began to unite. First in their own
Temperaments, then in secret. You see, after having to change meeting spots as to not get
caught, we come across secret tunnels and passages that those before us had built. The woods
were the safest places so that was where the entrances were. Our Originator and Scientist
sympathizers worked together to create a technology that would conceal us from the Guardians
since as you know, we are always watched.” I had never known that until Amaia had pointed the
cameras out in our headquarters. From then on, I had always kept an eye out for them. I looked
around at the men and women around the table. None of them had badges.

“Then our Courier sympathizers brought us supplies, our few Protector sympathizers brought us
weapons, and we were able to finish what our ancestors started. Of course we can’t leave out
our Strategical spies, Vince and Kaya, or our new recruiter Theo.” A few people cheered. I
furrowed my eyebrows. “Who else have you recruited?” Theo’s face gradually reddened. “Only
you.”

Pacey nodded. “He was about to recruit Amaia until she was taken.” There was a thick silence.

“Which leads us to our biggest mission yet.” I sat up straighter then stood. “We’re going to free
the Glitches.”

Part 4
****
“The meeting is now in order,” Pacey declared. The shock waves were only beginning to roll
over me. I hadn’t even had enough time to process that there were actual revolutionary
organizations in A.R.I.G let alone a plan to take over one of the most largest and most protected
facilities around.

Apparently, a few members hadn’t known of the plan either and were giving shouts of panic,
praise, or outrage. Chaos bloomed in a matter of minutes. “Do you know how many people they
keep in that place? I do and it’s not a walk in the park to just waltz them out,” someone barked
and I could tell they were a Protector. “Why should we risk our supplies for a suicide mission?,”
someone else exclaimed. A few people gave shouts of agreement.

“After everything we gathered why can’t we just storm the Guardian's headquarters?”, another
declared. I turned to Pacey who sat patiently as well as a few other older people at the front.
Then she stood and walked to the largest map in the center wall behind her. Gradually,
everyone became silent.

A pang of respect hit me. No wonder she was the leader. She had the power to command a
free-for-all into a room filled with at least 200 people so quiet, all that could be heard now was
the sound of breathing.

“Thank you,” she said in her usual tone. I took a look around. There were scowls and looks of
anticipation on people's faces. “The Convocation and I have decided that freeing the Glitches is
the best decision for us to make at this time. The Guardians are becoming stronger and more
suspicious of the people who have been somehow ended up back in their homes after only
leaving.” Some people laughed and I assumed they were part of the Scientist and Originator
group, proud of their work.

“Vince and Kaya have learned that the Guardians have recently been recruiting undercover
Inspectors to find us.” Gasps and panicked shouts spread like wildfire until Vince got them to
calm down. Pacey continued, “Already they have captured three of our members and have
begin to interrogate them which means we must act now.” Her voice had risen to a loud growl.

“If the Glitches are free, citizens will be frightened of them and the Guardians will have no
support. With all the propaganda of Glitches being a danger to society and mentally insane, the
Guardians will have their words turned against them. They will be overwhelmed by having to
protect them and fight us. We also will have the numbers of the Glitches who will most likely
want to aid us to add to our advantages. As for our weapons, I encourage you to think of the
better situation. Assaulting the Guardian's headquarters with a tolerable amount of soldiers
while they have the citizens and Protectors on their side and risking the supplies we already
have or assaulting the Guardian’s headquarters with the Glitches on our side with no support
from the citizens for the Guardians and using it to our advantage? Besides this matter, think of
your friends, family members, or neighbors that have been proclaimed Glitches,” she paused
allowing this to mull over.

“We owe it to them to give back the freedom that A.R.I.G stole from them.” The crowd agreed in
a low grumble of assent. “We owe it to ourselves to prove to A.R.I.G, to everyone who doubted
us that we are not just a ragtag group of unprepared rebels. We are ready to fight!” The crowds
cheering had grown louder and people were giving loud whoops that reeked of determination
and grit.
I looked around at all of these worn and ragged faces. People I had never seen before because
of the rules that we were obligated to follow, people who, like me, had lost people they loved to
a system that had yet to take their unquenchable thirst for a revolution. I realized then as the
shouts around me reached it’s peak, that I had an unquenchable thirst for a revolution.

“Now, with the details at hand to you, we will vote as a united people whether to form an alliance
with the Glitches,” the irony struck a few people, “or wait for another opportunity. Yes for the
former, No for the latter.” She walked back to her place at the table.

“You will cast your votes on the pieces of paper provided at the tables.” An older woman placed
a stack of ballots and a huge container of pens on the table, and people immediately made a
grab for them. “When you are ready, place them in the box where I sit. Vote wisely.”

Theo had already gotten me a piece of paper and a pen so we headed to the stairs that
connected to the levels above us. Theo sighed as he sat down. It only took a second for me to
write my answer. I waited for him to write his.

“What are these levels for?”, I questioned, gazing up at them. “They hold our supplies and
function as work spaces. The first level is our infirmary after our missions or any battles. The
second and third level hold our food and water supply, clothing, medical materials, things like
that just in case we need to barricade. The fourth is where we train for specific things like a
Nurturer or a Soldier where we learn how to shoot a gun and get abs most importantly which
you desperately need,” he poked me in the stomach.

“The fifth holds the labs where we usually try to come up with ways to conceal ourselves better
or to improve our efforts.The sixth is where The Convocation or other people meet to discuss
ideas and plans for different missions. The seventh is pretty much the most vital. That’s where
we keep our weapons.” We stood and walked over to where a line had formed to put the ballots
in the box.

“And how did you and Vince get involved in this?”, I inquired. Theo licked his lips and looked
down at his boots. “That’s...another story.” I shrugged as we moved up in the line. “I’ve got
time.”

Theo laughed. “My parents were part of it when it was first founded. They were my age when
they had founded the tunnels. They were part of the first Convocation.” We walked forward only
a few people behind from the box.

“They were killed in a mission and my brother and I were only kids so Pacey raised us in debt of
them. Since she became the leader of The Arc, we got our advantages.” We reached the box
and slipped our ballots in. “But you know about that don’t you?” I furrowed my eyebrows at him.
“Know about what?” Theo furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “The failed mission. Your parents
were the ones that made it successful.”

I searched his face for any signs of humor, which he regularly showed. All I saw was sincerity
and sorrow, an expression that didn’t fit him. I walked to the stairs and sat down, holding my
head in my hands.

“I forgot you didn’t know,” he sighed, sitting down next to me. “They were part of the first
Convocation too. Two of the most important people to The Arc. The mission was to rescue
Pacey from an interrogation with the Guardians. She had too much information and was too
imperative to the cause. That’s why she raised us. It was her way of repaying our parents.”

So that’s why she was eager to let me in. I was the child of the people that she owed her lives
too. “She wanted you to be a part of it the minute you were old enough to understand,” he said. I
looked up at him. “My uncle,” I realised.. “He had to have known. Was he a part of The Arc?”,
Theo nodded. “Cy? Yeah, he was Pacey’s right hand man until our parents were killed is what
she told me. Then he quit to take care of you.”

He had always warned me about them and I had never known that he had been right up there
with them. I swore as he had when I told him about Amaia. “Woah. I didn’t know a Mystie with
such a dirty mouth.” I laughed for the first time since she was taken.

“He told me they died in a Transporter accident.” It was Theo’s turn to swear. “Pacey never told
me that,” he claimed. I swallowed hard, looking up at him. “It’s just...he never told me anything. I
could’ve done something.” Theo smirked.

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that.” I gave him a tentative look. “Pacey has a few
things in mind.” Vince had come over to sit with us. “Anyone who has not submitted their votes
should do so now,” an older member announced.

Soon enough Pacey and The Convocation were hunched around the table counting the votes.
“She convinced me,” I told Vince and Theo. They grinned. “She has a knack for that,” Vince
assured and spun a story about how she had gotten him to like spinach. I wasn’t paying
attention, though.

What did Pacey have in mind for me? If she expected me to be as my parents were, how could I
live up to that.\? What bothered me more was all the lies that I had been fed by the person I
trusted the most besides Amaia.

I thought about everything Cy had told me about my parents or everything he told me at all. My
whole life I had been oblivious to my past and what the future could hold. It was like l was
emerging from a prison where I had been kept for sixteen years. Cy had kept me from the one
thing I wanted most whether physically or mentally: the truth.

“Arson,” Vince was shaking me. I blinked and they were standing next to me. “They’re about to
announce the majority vote.” I took a deep breath and stood. The crowd had began to form in
the middle since the table had been moved away. I took a stance closer to the edge. I never
liked crowds.

The Convocation stood at the front, but were at the same level as the rest of us. For some
reason, that resonated with me. They did not see themselves above us, but as equals even if it
was something as minor as that.

“People of The Arc. The Convocation and I have counted your votes as carefully and as quickly
as we could. We will keep the results anonymous, of course, but we do have a majority ruling,”
Pacey’s soft yet firm voice drifted through the room and lingered over the remaining side
conversations.

“We will go forth with our plan of freeing the Glitches, and forming an Alliance with them.” The
crowd cheered and I found myself giving cries of joy, pumping my fist in the air. “In two month's
time we will wage war on The Alliance and ultimately A.R.I.G. We will win back our freedom
because our Type is not our future!” And with that the whole underground community erupted
into thundering applause and spirit.

I stood as the whole world around me began to catch fire. Something was building inside of me
as well even as I was still, my heart was roaring with an urge for change.

Part 5
****
Going back to the Idealists was a plunge into reality, head first. I had forgotten about Cy. “He
won’t say anything. Even if he did, it would hurt him too. They’re already suspicious of your
history. Just lay low,” Theo whispered into the night. We had reached headquarters and he had
spent the last ten minutes doing something with the wrist scanner at the checkpoint, me as his
lookout.

He had a point. Cy had been too close to Pacey. He knew too much, already. “There,” he
declared, wiping his forehead and standing from his kneeling position. They won’t know we’ve
been gone.” He swung his backpack on his shoulders. “You’re sure?” I asked, imagining an
alarm blaring and being hauled off to be interrogated. “Please, I’ve done this a million times.” He
placed his wrist underneath the scanner as did I. “There’s so much you don’t know about me,”
he muttered.

“There’s only four cameras. One above us-” I put a hand up to stop him. “I know where they are.
There’s a lot you don’t know about me too.” With that I crept off as he looked pleased at me.

As hard as I tried, I wasn’t going to get past Cy, who was never a heavy sleeper. Before I could
step one foot in my room, Cy’s voice emerged from it. “And where have you been for the past
eight hours?” His voice was quiet, but deadly. His arms stayed limp at his sides, but his hands
were balled into tight, white knuckled fists.

I didn’t have time to feel surprised or even ashamed. All that coursed through me was betrayal.
Deep down I knew he didn’t tell me the truth it for my own good, but I couldn’t help it. My eyes
narrowed. His eyes searched me and they stopped when they reached my wrist. “Dammit…”, I
muttered as he took one strode and gripped my stickered wrist.

Cy’s eyes closed and he sat on my bed pulling his hair. I stayed rooted to where I stood and
began to open my mouth. I had a stream of comments intended for his guilt to put him through,
but he didn’t let me. “I should’ve told you a long time ago.” My mouth slowly closed.

“So why didn’t you?” I was surprised at the softness in my tone. “I...I was scared. I couldn’t let
you end up like them if I could help it.” I sighed feeling some of my anger melt away. “Pacey
didn’t understand that. She wanted you to avenge them, to be a symbol of The Arc.” A few tears
trailed down his face and I sat next to him.

“So many people looked up to your parents....When they died, they lost a lot of hope. If their
greatest fighters were gone, who would they have to look up to? That was when Pacey had the
idea of bringing you into that world of-of violence and never ending conflict.”

He looked up at me with swollen eyes. “When you told me about Amaia, I knew you were going
to want to rescue her. It’s in your nature.” He sighed and sat up straight. There was a period of
silence in which only our breathing could be heard. Pacey’s plan was to make me into a symbol
of hope? It was more than what I had in mind, more than I could handle.

I breathed deeply through my nose. Stay calm, I thought. Amaia’s face was forming in my mind.
Amaia. The only person that kept me calm, stuck in a terror that may never end. All of those
people that were in there as well with no one to defend them. There was no doubt in my mind.

“I want to fight, Cy.” I couldn’t look at him so I stared at the calendar on my wall. “For Amaia, for
my parents. If that means violence and conflict then who cares? It won’t be never ending
because I will get her out of there and I will avenge my parents.”
He stood, running a hand through his hair. I stood as well, holding my ground. “Well, I can’t stop
you can I?” Looking at him, I realized how old he appeared.

“But don’t expect me to help you. I gave up that life a long time ago”. With that, he left me to
stand there not knowing whether to go after him or stay. But I pushed him away from my mind.
As painful as it was, I couldn’t have anyone tied to me. I loved Cy.

I fell onto my bed. There was a crinkling of paper underneath me. I reached into my pocket and
found a piece of leftover ballot paper.

Training begins tomorrow at 7:00 pm (you know the drill)

Grimacing to myself, I carefully folded the paper into my pocket and fell asleep.

The next morning was already here. “Arson Wright: briefing with Harrison in room 303.” I had
reached the end of the line where younger soldiers had lined up to receive training instructions.

After the ceremony, the teenagers had a day to celebrate with their families before they began
training for their Type’s assigned job. There was no reason for me to celebrate, so I had spent
the day brooding around the house wondering if I should see Amaia’s parents. I couldn’t face
them until I brought her back to them. Instead I waited impatiently for 7:00 to roll around and for
Cy to go to bed. It would upset him too much to see me going back.

Now, here I was heading up to the third level to receive a briefing. Walking in, all I noticed was
how closely it resembled my old school classroom. Harrison had to be an author. Only five other
young people were there and suddenly I felt as clueless as I had the day before.

Harrison waited for me to sit before beginning his briefing. He was a short man with closely
cropped hair. “Alright recruits here’s the deal,” his voice was surprisingly booming for such an
undersized man.

“The Convocation will assess you on the result of your training. There are five options that you
will have to choose to from: Nurturer, in which you would be tending to our wounded, Courier,
where you would take account our supplies or gather them in their correct spaces, Educator,
where you would make sure everyone is notified of different meetings, and a Protector, or
soldier, as we call them here, in which you would be heading into battle. If you wanted a higher
job such as recruiter, spy, commander, or even a member of The Convocation, there are special
requirements and training needed,”

I almost laughed at the irony. They had based their positions on Type’s jobs and we could
choose what we wanted to do.
“However, I suggest you choose anything other than Protector. It will be immensely difficult to
pass training in only two months and since this is our most pivotal battle, training will be more
than just being able to shoot a gun accurately. What we do need most of all, are Nurturers, so if
any of you are up for it, we’ll take you.”

My giddiness fell as quickly as it came. How would I become a soldier in two months? “If you
need more information, there are sheets here. When you are ready, I will send you to your first
session.”

I already knew what I wanted to do and I wasn’t about to back down. “Arson Wright, is it? I
trained with your parents.They were naturals,” he bellowed when I walked up to him. My face
began to burn. There was so much to live up to. “Let me guess, you want to be a soldier?” I
nodded, gulping. He smiled sympathetically. “Pacey thought it would be the best fit for you, but
she wanted you to make your own decision.” He logged me on his tablet. “Room 409.”

This room looked nothing like my old classroom. It was spacious and the temperature was
extremely biting cold. As someone else walked in they noticed this too. “Hey! Turn off the stim
cold!”, the person yelled. The room began to rapidly warm up. “What’s the ‘stim cold’?”, I asked
the girl who walked through the doorway.

“It’s the stimulation temperature they use to make it seem like we’re in a real battle. Theo
must’ve been playing with it. He always does that.” I perked. “He’s in this session?” The girl
scoffed. “Sure.” I followed her in.

Around the room there were sections. One was for weapons training where a table held piles of
with lethal looking guns, knives, and so on and targets were situated, another was for man-to-
man combat where a ring was placed on the floor and punching gear hung. A gigantic touch
screen was centered on the far end of the room and a space was sectioned off by walls on all
four sides. That area, I supposed was for the stimulation battle.

“Young soldiers gather around.” A middle aged looking woman stood in the weapons area, her
arms folded across herself in a commanding stance. Soon we were all in a circle, and I was
trying to ignore Theo as he waggled his eyebrows at me.

“If you want to participate in our upcoming mission, you will need to receive approval from The
Convocation based on your ability to shoot with accuracy, obey orders, handle difficult
situations, and make decisions in a dire circumstance. You will also need to pass our military,
survival test and battle stim.”

There were a few groans. “Again? What if we already passed it?”, someone whined. The
woman gave him a sharp look. “Then it should be easy for you.” She turned back towards the
group. “When you are ready to begin the testing, you will come to me. For now, fine tune your
skills. Remember we only have two months.” As if I needed any reminding.

Over the next few weeks, loads of facts, information, and tips were being packed into my brain.
Not only was I preparing for a revolutionary battle in which I had to gain at least 5 pounds of
muscles in two months, I was also learning how to assess people’s emotions and help them
understand themselves as an Advisor. The Arc was the only thing that got me through Type job
training.

Throughout the day I had to sit in a compacted room filled with navy pillows and a sofa that I
rested on while an elderly Advisor named Sonian trained me. He usually went on about how “the
mind is a dangerous place” and that I needed to “listen with my heart” if I truly wanted to help
people. Then he pretended to be some poor woman who thinks her husband doesn’t love her or
a kid who thinks he can’t live without his blanket and I had to convince him that I helped.

If it were another time and I had never known about The Arc, I might’ve enjoyed learning about
psychology. But now I knew there more important things for me to learn about. At night I snuck
out, always at 7:00, for training.

From there, I pulled on the uniform that was laid out on the table next to the door, and began.
The middle-aged looking woman, Fiona, always walked by making me feel under constant
scrutiny. “Can’t you hit the target once?”, she’d crow when I’d spent more than ten bullets or
“You need to tuck your thumb or you’ll break it,” when my knuckles were already bruised and
aching.

After two weeks and a half of spending nights in the training room hours after everyone had
gone home, my punches were becoming straighter and taking the fighting stance become
second nature. The stim temperatures were starting to kick in. Sometimes the room would be so
stifling hot that after a few hours I had to strip off my uniform and wring my shirt out. Other times
it would feel like the first time I had stepped in and we had to keep moving so that our blood
kept flowing.

I had memorized the entire terrain of A.R.I.G and had started examining the forged map of The
Alliance. When I grasped the gun, everything around me ceased to exist. Amaia’s face always
flooded my thoughts before I pulled the trigger as to remind me that all this was for her.

When I really thought about, it wasn’t just for her. In the beginning all I wanted was her safety.
Now as my history revealed itself, there was more at stake. I wanted to avenge my family and
prove myself to Cy who had been ignoring me ever since his breakdown. He only spoke when
he wanted to remind me that I needed to lay low.
He was right. I had to cover my gashed knuckles and hide what little muscles I was earning with
baggy clothing or gloves. Any signs of abnormality in my appearance or demeanor could raise
suspicion and I wanted no attention.

The good thing about Sonian was that he was old which meant that he wouldn’t notice that my
eyes were closed most of the time, trying to get as much rest as possible. He just talked and
talked, which INFJ’s like to do when they think the other person is listening. I wasn’t because I
knew that once my daytime training was over, my night training was only beginning.

When I didn’t have job training in the morning, I did man-to-man combat battles with Theo and
other trainees for fun, even though Theo already had a place in the battle. In my first one, I was
knocked down after three blows. Fiona liked to watch us since she thought it was amusing and
after each battle she taught us countermoves that we could’ve used. I practiced them every time
I entered a new fight.

I never liked fighting and most of the trainees knew that Mysties were pacifists, but it didn’t stop
me from executing my advances when I felt threatened. Still, I swore I would never hurt anyone
unless I was defending myself. Seeing Amaia being electrocuted by the shock cuffs when they
already had her in their control confirmed that.

One day when Sonian was pretending to be a man that had been feeling angry about getting
beat by another man in a competition when he thought he was superior, he told me something.
“Whenever a person doesn’t want to fight with someone, but knows what they themselves are
capable of, will warn the other person about what they’re getting into. Someone who doesn’t
know what they’re doing, but wants to fight, will egg the other person on or brag about their
abilities when in reality, they are weak. It is something I commonly see with patients who are
struggling with courage. They want to appear brave, but on the inside they are cowering.” Then
he chuckled until he coughed raspily and I had to run to get him water.

The whole day I thought about this. The memory that had come to mind was when a boy had
challenged Theo to a fight when he was ready to go home. He told him he was a wuss if he
didn’t. Still Theo didn’t fight. It was when the boy had punched him in the shoulder to egg him
on, that Theo beat the tar out of him. The boy was dismissed from training and wasn’t allowed to
be in battle. Theo was suspended, but only for three days.

After a month, hitting the target become frequent and my punches more powerful. I had finally
moved from the very back of the crowd when we jogged up and down the tunnels before each
session of training, to the middle. The structure of The Alliance was stored in my head. I
examined it again one night when everyone had gone home.

I wandered hopelessly what condition Amaia was in. The map was the only piece of information
soldiers were given about The Alliance so I had no idea if she was alive and well or dead and
gone. It kept me awake just thinking about it so I stayed in the room as long as I possibly could
to distract myself.

There were only three weeks until the battle was to be taken place. Next week would be the last
week we were to inform Fiona that we were ready to take the tests if we wanted to be in the
mission. Was I ready?

“I should’ve known you’d still be here.” Fiona’s deep voice startled me, but not as much as it
would’ve when I had first heard her. “It’s about 1:00 in the morning. You don’t want the sun to
come out before you do.” She strode over and sat down at the foot of where I stood. I stepped
away from the touch screen and sat down next to her.

“You really want to go don’t you?” she sighed looking at me with an admiring gaze I had never
seen her wear before. “Yes.” She shook her head laughing. “You look just like your mom. When
you try to be serious you end up making people laugh, but don’t take that the wrong way.” I felt
my face burn and she saw that. “Oh baby,” she embraced me and between laughs I could hear
her crying.

“Your parents were the best friends I ever had. I never wanted anybody’s help and she helped
me get through training and other issues I’d never been able to defeat on my own.” I looked
down feeling a throbbing pang of longing in my soul. I wished I had a picture or at least a
memory of them. “There. That’s your father right there.” I looked up confused.

“What?”, I asked. “The way your face scrunches up in concentration when you daydream or
think hard about something. Your father was always thinking. I had always thought he was an
INTJ when he did that. That’s the way he looked when he tried to teach me something, but he
never gave up.” She wiped at her eyes.

“You inherited that trait Arson. You will never give up trying to save your friend. Just like I won’t
stop owing them.” She took a deep breath and picked a piece of lint off her uniform pants. “If
being in the mission is what you want then I’m going to help you myself. All next week after
sessions, I’ll train you. Then you take your test.” She nodded as if reassuring herself and walked
out of the room without awaiting my response.

As I walked to day time training the next day, my thoughts filled with doubts. Was it fair for her to
specifically train me? None of the other trainees had Glitch relatives or friends. I was the only
one with motives that were clear.

“Arson, my boy?”, Sonian was calling me and I sat up after I had just laid down. I patted down
my tousled hair. “Yes?” Sonian’s eyes were on my face. My heart jumped into my throat. “What
happened to your face, son? And your badge...where is it?” I pursed my lips as every curse
word imaginable flashed in my mind.
“I, well, accidentally...banged my head on the bathroom door. Was almost late because of it so I
must’ve forgotten to put it on. Pretty clumsy of me huh?”, the heat rose to my cheeks and I
wiped at them with my sleeves, but immediately put my hands behind me remembering my
gloved knuckles in the middle of May.

Sonian chuckled again and I was afraid he was going to go into a coughing fit. “We’ve known
eachother for some time now, boy. I’m an Advisor not a Agriculturist. I deal with lies all the time.”
I forced myself to breath slowly as he got up and went to his orderly desk. The security button
was right at his fingertips.

“But I suppose it’s not important is it.” He glanced at the screen on his watch. “Our session
starts now.”

Throughout my night training, I couldn’t concentrate. If I slipped up again, our whole mission
could pay for it. Only three more weeks, I thought as Fiona blew the whistle signaling the end of
the session.

Throughout the week, she taught me positions and blows that were as deadly as they looked.
She spent hours quizzing me about what I would do in certain situations and where certain
posts, cameras, and security were located in The Alliance. Most importantly, she had me recite
what I would do if I were injured or captured.

“If you ever find yourself wounded in the middle of action, you will have an ear piece that will
connect you to anyone within fifty yards of wherever you are. Of course there is no guarantee
they will come for you. If any Protectors find you though, you must say ‘I feel fine’ in your ear
piece so that no one else gets hurt or captured.”

We had been in front of the touch screen examining The Alliance map one more time. Tomorrow
was the day she had assigned me the test. In a week, we would go into battle. “If you are
captured it is crucial that you reveal as little as you can.” I scoffed. “Why don’t I just not reveal
anything at all?”

She did not laugh. “Arson, their methods of torture are intricate and filled with affliction. They do
not take mercy on anyone and have advance technology that can break the toughest mind in a
matter of days. Trust me, I’ve seen it myself.” She took on a stern expression and continued.

“There are four stages of the torture they inflict. The first is pain. There are simulations that are
attached to the body and when activated, will make it seem as though you are being stabbed,
shot, or electrified, and so on. Many people forget that they are not actually being harmed which
is what you need to remember. The second stage may be the easiest if you prepare your mind.
Insanity and deprivation is a combination of being isolated in a room where all you see is the
color white and food and water is served once every two days. Even if it may seem like a long
time, it will only last a week or until you crack. The third stage is the most difficult. Once they
have realized that the cause is greater to you than you value yourself, they will use it against
you. The thirds stage, Impotence, will involve being strapped to a surface facing a screen where
you are forced to watch your loved ones suffer. Although in tortures I’ve seen they have
captured the loved ones and filmed them of being abused, in our situation the scenario will be
unlikely. Therefore there will be no reason for you to think it to be real. The last stage involves
no suffering fortunately and if you play it right, you may get out alive. Bargaining. When
bargaining you must give information that The Arc has already affirmed they are willing to give
up. However, if they ask specific questions or already know everything you told them, there is
nothing else you can do.” She paused from her monologue and looked gravely at me. “You are
ready to risk your life for this aren’t you?”

I thought for while. It had all started with Amaia. A friend I had known since preschool, one of the
few people I loved. Then my family became involved. My parents had died for this cause, but
why? For the injustice of depriving a person of their freedom, of their choices, of ultimately their
personality? Finally there was Cy. Cy who had given up on The Arc, himself, and last but not
least, me. I was willing to fight, but was I willing to die?

Without thinking I said yes. “Good, because it’s either death or lobotomy if you make it that far
and they don’t let you go. You get to choose.” Lobotomy, I thought. It had a rang a bell.
Once when Amaia and I were sitting in the Idealists’ courtyard, Protectors were hauling a man
away while he was screaming about a lobotomy. “That’s what they do to Glitches, huh?” She
nodded turning away from the screen. “The procedure used to be popular in the past as a
treatment, but now it seems that A.R.I.G sees it better as a punishment. Either way it is a
horrible thing to do to a person. To take away part of who you are and being incapable of having
your sense of self? Death is better than that to me. At least you’d go with knowing who you
were.”

I turned back to the map my eyes scanning it and taking everything in. I did not want to have to
make that choice, but being a soldier meant that there was a possibility. I had come to far now
and I had already told her yes. Besides, what were the chances of my capture?

Part 6
*****
Testing day began as training would. My uniform was laid out on the table and I dressed in it.
People were still practicing their skills in the different sections, but Fiona was standing near the
sectioned off battle stimulator with a tablet in her hands.

“Your testing third,” she told me. So, I waited.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, I was called. Throughout the process I discovered the
similarities between this test and the MBTI test. Both were to determine what skills you could
contribute, but that was where they stopped. In this test, you were able to choose when you
were ready and were able to prepare for it. I wasn’t afraid of failing either because I could
always try again. But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try my hardest.

First was the military and A.R.I.G and Alliance test where I needed to show that I knew the
surroundings and how to do certain things. Next was the battle stimulant which consisted of a
mock mission where I needed to show the accuracy of my aim when faced with the Protectors,
the ability to obey the orders I was given such as where to go and if we were secure in our
positions, and finally at the end, what to do when a simulated enemy Protector shot my leg.

In the end, I passed and was assigned to the sixth level where a commanding soldier
congratulated us on passing, but told us that the “fun was only beginning”. From there The
Convocation and all the soldiers involved in the mission gathered in a room with a gigantic table
similar to the one I had sat around one and a half months ago. I was surprised at how small the
amount of soldiers there were. At most there was sixty of them including Theo who stood next to
Pacey at the edge of the table as always. She looked more sleep deprived than when I had last
seen her.

“Listen up soldiers. This is your last chance to back out,” the commanding Protector was much
similar to Fiona in build and size, but had a harsher voice. “If you aren’t up to this task, then we
don’t need you.” No one left. The Commander clapped his hands.

“Now that that’s settled, The Convocation and the military leaders have created the plan of how
this mission will operate. Save all questions for afterwards.” Then he stepped back and let
Pacey take over.

A group of undercover Protectors were able to get jobs as guards for The Alliance. Those
Protector guards were not allowed to leave the facility so they communicated through long
distance ear pieces. 12:00 was the time that the guards changed positions which was when a
group of soldiers would head to the panel underneath the far area where The Alliance was
located and position mines near the checkpoint that cornered it. Another group would position
themselves at the back of The Alliance. Then, at 7:00, the Protectors commenced a lockdown in
which no one could get in or out until 7:00 in the morning, no matter how much they tried.
Before that however, the undercover Protectors would begin to infiltrate the facility from the
inside barricading it all the while making it seem as if there countless traitors amongst them.
While they are being distracted, the group that had placed the mines would activate them,
drawing The Alliance to confusion.

Three other groups would enter exactly five minutes after. The first group would be mainly
Scientists and Originators who will hold the security breach hostage and activate any lockdown
system and any communication to the Guardian headquarters before they could realize what
had happened. This was the most important step.

The second group would help take down any other enemy Protectors and the third group would
lead the Glitches to safety. Once every Glitch had been rescued, the first group would activate
the lockdown procedure as to trap any remaining enemy Protectors. The Second group would
wait under the panel ready to lead anyone off if there was to be any reinforcements from the
Guardians.

“What if the Protectors reach lockdown before we can?”, someone asked after she had
explained it. “An undercover Protector that will not be part of the barricade and will make sure to
be in that room, but we will have to depend on the mines for that,” she answered briskly. “How
many people in each group?”, someone else piped up.

“We have been especially training our seven Scientists and three Originators on how to work
their technology based on the information we have been receiving from the undercover
Protectors and the eight mine positioners have already been trained in their area as well. The
rest of us will will be divided into two groups of twenty five either assisting the Glitches or
fighting the enemy Protectors. According to our agents, there are around ten guards for each
section of the facility not including the ones manning the security, checkpoints, and
communications.” Ten guards for the four sections in The Alliance. Was it really as guarded as
we thought?

As soon as this was over, we were immediately assigned to our group. I was assigned to the
third group since I was a new recruit and not as skilled as others who would be able to defend
themselves more easily. Theo was apart of the second group.

Soon enough the day came and I was so excited that I had forgotten my tracker at our
apartment when I was halfway to the forest. “What did you forget?”, Cy was in the kitchen
making plans for his next lesson as an Educator. “Just the tracker cloud,” I muttered ready to
leave, hoping he wouldn't ask anything else. “Oh,” he sounded crestfallen. “Be careful then.” I
took one last look at his face hoping it wouldn’t be the last. “I will.”

Waiting for 7:05 to arrive was agony. We were huddled up in The Alliance tunnel yards away
from being seen. Weapons were beginning to get slippery from sweat, uniforms were becoming
to feel claustrophobic, and breaths were getting tighter. I passed the time by retelling the plan to
myself and racking my brain about where places were located.

“Assemble soldiers,” commanded Pacey’s voice suddenly, her features casting shadows on her
face. I didn’t think she’d be participating since she needed to stay around as the face of The Arc,
but she said she’d only be waiting at the tunnel to help the Glitches get in safely. She was the
opposite of Emery. She would never disappear.
A low rumble had enveloped the tunnel and the ground beneath my feet quaked. Hushed cheers
went off in the darkness. The mines had been activated. The battle was about to commence. My
heart began to pound faster and my teeth were on edge. I was going to see Amaia again.

“Weapons at the ready. Shoot only when you need to and save the ammunition you have. Help
every last person you can and make sure they get here safely before going back. If you are
captured, remember you must say ‘I feel fine’ and you will be accounted for. I wish you the best
of luck.” A shudder fell through me as the first few people began to scale the ladder that led out
to the forest.

The rungs were slippery, but moments later I was in the forest and charging towards battle,
clutching the gun to my chest with both hands.

The mines had done their job and had cleared the checkpoint. A few bodies of the Protectors
were in our path, but I forced myself not to look at them. Our group split so that some of us were
on one side of the checkpoint while the second group made sure it was safe for us to cross. Just
as we had sprinted through, a group of enemy Protectors began to shoot at us. I ducked and
flattened myself against the wall next to where they were emerging.

All around me were the sounds of gun shots ringing in my ears, yelps of pain, and bodies hitting
the pavement. “Go, go, go!” I heard one our own say. I darted through the underpass and for a
fleeting moment was reminded of times when me and Amaia used to play tag as children. I ran
harder.

Upon emerging, I heard coarse voices from the inside and pressed myself to the underpasse’s
wall. “How many are there?” A boy with blood smeared on his face came panting up to me.
“Three I think, the rest must’ve gone to help the front.” The boy readied his weapon while others
of my group were coming up behind me, the second group guarding their backs.

“You think, eh? Well, where do you think they’re positioned?” I turned to look behind the wall. As
I predicted three, Protectors were corralling a group of Glitches into a corner, guns at the ready.
“Their backs face us, but they’re look like they’re ready to fire.”

The boy muttered a curse word, “Here goes,” with an usher of his hand, another member from
the second group came up beside him and I pulled back. “What’s the scope Jax?”, I heard one
them utter and he relayed a hasty plan. He looked behind the wall then turned to me, sweat
glistening on his forehead. “Once they’re down, take the Glitches to the panel. The coast is clear
over in the front, but take a second group member with you.” The boy gave a lethal blow to a
Protector’s back and another did the same to the one that had began to take cover.
I speeded towards the crowd. “Get this first group, we’re going for the second section. Kai will
stay with you.” The other boy that had given the second blow stood at my side and a few
whimpers escaped the mouths of the Glitches at seeing his drawn weapon.

“We’re getting you out of here,” I told their terrorized faces. How else could I say it? “We’re
against the Guardians, but we don’t have time. They’ll send in more Protectors any minute,
please,” I begged, but I didn’t have to tell them twice.

Kai only had to administer two shots until we were in the clear. “Head down that ladder and
more people will be able to help you. There is shelter and first aid in our headquarters.” I took a
look at each one of their faces for Amaia, but all I got were a couple of teary, ‘thank you’s’. Just
as the second section group of Glitches came running towards the panel, I caught sight of Theo
shooting down a stray Protector. I darted towards him.

“Two more sections to clear?”, I wheezed behind a tree. He was behind the one next to me. “No,
one m-more. The Second Group is clearing the checkpoint because there’s more of t-them than
we thought,” his voice sounded strained. Then I saw the puddle of blood gathering at his feet.
“God Theo! Your shot! Go back to the panel and wrap it!,” I nearly shouted. “No!”, he exclaimed,
then grimaced in pain. “They need as many of us as they can. I’m not l-leaving ‘till this is
finished.” He started back, head first into the heat of it.

I crouched by the wall surrounding the checkpoint for around ten minutes until the shots ceased
and I turned to see a handful of soldiers head into the underpass while the third section group of
Glitches hurried past me. I followed the soldiers to the inside of The Alliance, my hands shaking
as I passed mutilated bodies and people moaning on the ground.

“Stay back!”, a second group member commanded her group and they began to battle a few
enemy Protectors, but it only lasted a few minutes. “Head on!” The sections were positioned
next to each other, vertically so that each prison area held rows of cells and we headed deeper
into The Alliance.

I kept my eyes pressed forward not daring to look down. We didn’t meet any more Protectors
until the third section. “Go ahead we’ll hold them off!” Right, there was another checkpoint on
the other side of the facility, but it was deactivated. There was another tunnel as well. The rest of
our group sprinted towards the fourth and final section. I gripped the gun ready to strike and
whole-heartedly not wanting to. Feeling a bullet fly by arm, I blindly shot behind me forgetting
what Pacey said.

The last group of Glitches were cowering in a corner where a Protector was pointing both of his
guns at them. He’s injured, I thought, watching his legs shake underneath him and dark red
staining his pants. A girl behind me readied her gun, but I gestured for her to stop. “What?,” she
whispered franticly. “He’s already injured. Leg.” Then I let her go in front of me and she
delivered the final blow. “Move! ” I ordered and they filed out. This group needed no explanation,
only a few hands to carry a wounded woman. “ I got it.” I told them, letting my hands slide under
her legs and head. She gave a feeble sob, but let me take her to the checkpoint.

It had been successfully deactivated, but just as we passed it, two enemy Protectors began
advancing towards us. I pumped my legs as hard as I could, searching for a place to hide. A
figure rushed past me.

“Pacey!”, I cried, but the words barely made an impact on her. I couldn’t stop running so I
headed to where the panel was. “Go! I can hold them off.” She crouched behind a tree and
began shooting.

The tree with the TA at the bottom of the trunk, I thought and it repeated over and over again in
my mind. My arms ached from the woman’s weight who was groaning in pain. Gunshots were
going off behind me, but I needed to get the woman to safety.

“Help her. I’m going back,” I gasped, handing the woman off to a soldier at the panel. Before
they could retort, I raced to where Pacey’s fight was ceasing.

One of the enemy Protectors was injured at the hip so I targeted him. Pacey had already
targeted the other. Panic began to enfold me after I had missed once and he headed towards
the tree I was hiding behind. I looked behind, but he was already aiming. I whipped back around
just as the bullet grazed my arm. Searing stings of pain shot through my arm and a cry escaped
my mouth, but I forced myself to shoot again. I didn’t miss.

I shot him again as he tried to rise and he stayed down. I glanced cautiously around for the
other one, but he was lying on the forest floor, unmoving. “Pacey,” I whispered and rushed to
her aid. She clutched her chest as blood seeped through her clothes. Her face was ghostly pale
and the glowing determination I had known as her expression was gone.

“Why did you came back?”, she was barely able to utter those words. “Why did you come
back?”, I countered. I tried getting my arms under her legs to carry her, but she pushed me
away. “They-they had figured out w-where we were going and your g-group were the only ones
that needed to get to s-safety.” Another difference between Emery. She threw herself into battle
even if she was the heart of it.

“We need to go, more could be coming,” I urged, but she shook her head. “You know I’m as
good as dead.” She swallowed hard with a grieved smile. “Kill Emery...that was our last
mission. W-without her, A.R.I.G will cease to exist. Abolish the Temperaments and Types. A-
avenge your parents,” her eyes glistened with tears, “Save the people…” Her eyes glassed over
and her head swung to the side. Pacey was dead.