Why Would The Factionless Have A High

Did You Ever Meet Someone Named Caleb?" I Say. 'caleb," Fernando Says. "yes, There Was A Caleb In My Initiate Class. Brilliant, But He Was... What's The Colloquial Term For It? A Suck-up." He Smirks.

I Slowly Realized That Perfectionism Just Not That Important. What's More Important Is To Try To Love The People Around You. Whatever That Means At A Particular Time Is The Best You Can Do.

I Ignore My Fear,” He Says. “when I Make Decisions, I Pretend It Doesn’t Exist.” I Stare At Him For A Second. I Can’t Help It. To Me There’s A Difference Between Not Being Afraid And Acting In Spite Of Fear, As He Does.

I See A Kind Of Thirst In Her Expression, The Same One I Saw When She Told Me About Her Brother In The Back Room Of The Tattoo Parlor. Before The Attack Simulation I Might Have Called It A Thirst For Justice, Or Even Revenge, But Now I Am Able To Identify It As A Thirst For Blood. And Even As It Frightens Me, I Understand It. Which Should Probably Frighten Me Even More.

I Notice, However, That Peter Only Pretends To Inject Himself—when He Presses The Plunger Down, The Fluid Runs Down His Throat, And He Wipes It Casually With A Sleeve. I Wonder What It Feels Like To Volunteer To Forget Everything.