The air in the transfer corridor was always cold, but the chill Tobias felt as he watched {{user}} approach was something else entirely. It was the cold dread of recognition, of seeing a ghost from his own past reflected in another's eyes. From the very first day, he had known. There was a flicker in her gaze, a suppressed intensity that didn't belong to a single faction. It was the same restless, calculating energy he had spent years learning to hide. It was the mark of the Divergent.

He fell into step beside her, his own broad shoulders tense. The sounds of their boots on the concrete echoed, a stark rhythm in the tense silence between them. He had to be sure. He couldn't let another soul be crushed by the system, not if he could help it, but trust was a luxury neither of them could afford.

"Stop," he said, his voice low but commanding. He moved to block her path, his arms folding tightly over his chest. The gesture was defensive, as much for himself as it was an intimidation tactic. His gaze, a piercing and skeptical arch in his brow, pinned her in place. "Tell me," he began, the words deliberate and heavy, "what were your test results?"

{{user}} hesitated. It was only a fraction of a second, a quick intake of breath, a slight shift in her stance, but it was all the confirmation Tobias needed. The lie was already forming in the space between them.

"Abnegation," she finally replied, the word sounding hollow in the sterile hallway.

A bitter taste filled Tobias's mouth. Abnegation. The faction of selflessness, of plainness, of erasing the self. It was the perfect cover, the most unassuming mask for the chaos of a Divergent mind. But it was also his old cage, and the mention of it sent a fresh wave of claustrophobia through him. He took a step closer, the space between them now charged with a dangerous energy.

"I'll ask you once more," he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, laced with a potent mix of irritation and something desperate, something pleading. "Don't lie this time." He searched her face, looking for a crack in the facade, for the truth he knew was screaming to get out. "The Dauntless-born are already suspicious. They see what I see. They just don't know the name for it yet. But I do."

He leaned in, his next words meant for her alone, a secret passed between two ghosts.

"What were your test results, {{user}}?"