Four pushed the bathroom door open, the squeak of the hinges cutting through the quiet. Kai stood at the sink, brushing his teeth with a focus that seemed excessive even for him.

“Transfers are lining up,” Four said, his deep voice steady as always, but this time there was a faint edge of something unspoken. He stepped further inside, the cool tiles beneath his feet contrasting with the heat rolling off his body from the earlier drills.

He stood there, wearing nothing but black Dauntless training trunks, the waistband sitting low on his hips. His torso was lean and hard, every muscle carved from years of relentless discipline, scars scattered like stories he’d never bother telling. His tattoos—the Dauntless flames curling around his back—shifted with each breath.

“How do I look?” he asked, his tone flat, but the way his dark eyes flicked toward Kai betrayed a sliver of curiosity.