I was the only one to survive, I heard it in the whispers among my seniors when I sat at one of the long tables that stretched the length of the dining hall and seated half a hundred, white bandages strapped over my wrists and ankles - and my left eye.

The single pea on the plate in front of me evaded my spoon for the tenth time; the seniors to my left and right, and the ones opposite me as well, stared blankly, fingers curled around their bread knives in anticipation. Maybe they worried that I would break down after x-days of torture under my new Overseer since they were the ones closest to me - the nearest victims of an expected outburst.

But it wasn't going to happen.

Because they didn't know me. I was the only surviver not because I was the only one who didn't die in the end. I wasn't rescued, I saved myself.

I didn't cave to the pain.

With a slight frown, I let the utensil fall against the ceramic dish with a 'clang' that silenced the whispers and replaced the breathable atmosphere with dangerous tension.

I reached for the cup of water on the tray instead, the liquid trembling in the glass vessel as I brought it to my cracked lips, recalling the countless days I'd gone without the simplest form of sustenance. . . and how I'd survived.

I ignored my spasming hands and swallowed everything in one gulp, not even able to quell my greed and relish the feeling as it slid down my throat.

I ignored the terrifying fact that it hadn't been water at all, and set the glass cup back on the table, evading the eyes of the senior across the table who looked at me with quirked brows.

I didn't even want to know.

I returned my gaze back to the lines of white gauze that crisscrossed across my palm and wound against it up to my fingertips, back to the spoon, back to the pea.

What in Terr did they do to me? I touched my thumb and index finger together and hid the pained grimace just in time to not attract any unwanted attention.

For a moment I let myself play with dangerous thoughts, the ones that would make suspicion fall on me if ever uncovered. I let myself wonder how the others' initiations had been like. I wondered if they knew who I was - an identity other that 'the sole survivor of Batch 3-6-2 5-A'.

Nevertheless, I abandoned those thoughts as quickly as I had the spoon when it had once been in my grasp, picked up the pea and tossed it into my mouth, completing my new breakfast ritual - one I had intended to repeat until my hands stopped shaking the moment I held something.

You never knew who was watching, and it was best to keep life inconspicuously repetitious until you did.

Although I was taken against my will and forced into The Syndicate, as of now I had no other choice but to keep on surviving. And I was not strong enough to fight back, or stupid enough to attempt escape.

I could not sit back and wait for a savior either, so I was truly left with no other option. I had to-

Just in time to keep my thoughts from fanning out further, a bell rang. And like puppets of one string, all my seniors rose up in unison. Caught in the undertow, I did the same.

After all, it was my first day out of the dungeon and I was not in the mood to go back on an infraction - as slim as the chance might be.