Monarch told me once that Bellator meant warrior, which seems fitting.  My excellent fighting skills, swift speed, and quick reflexes are why I was selected into the Bellator world.  The exact details of The Gathering are a mystery. Those who are chosen find out afterward, during the final meeting with the Highers. The rest of The Colony remains in the dark and the memories of the chosen quickly get lost in the dust.

Lessons take place in the only room that doesn’t feel like plastic. It smells of sweat and realness. It’s the only place where I feel like I can be free. I take a seat by the chipped brick wall and stretch my legs out on the mat. Bellators pour in, dressed in their black warrior clothes, ready to throw down their lives if they have to.

Our instructor, Garrett, enters the room, his dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and he avoids looking at me, just like always. He’s afraid of me, because I’m stronger than him and he fears that one day I’ll take over his job. I hope not. The last thing I want is to be trapped in this room, teaching other people something that comes naturally to me.

Everyone sits in a circle, waiting for Lessons to begin. It’ll be the last one, with all of the same people. There are two empty spots today, one belonging to Maci and one to Bernard. No one acknowledges the absence, but their spots stay vacant.

Garrett stands in the center of the circle, on the mat, arms behind his back, ready to give his speech about the responsibility of being a Bellator, like he always does. But today he’s interrupted by two Watchers who come barging in, boots marching, noisily breathing through their masks.

“Hold on everyone,” Garrett says and meets the Watchers at the edge of the mat. They exchange whispers and nods, and then Garrett returns to the middle of the mat, seeming extremely cheerful about something.

He clears his throat. “Everyone, our plans have changed for the day.” He glances around at the circle of Bellators. “One of the Highers would like to join us.”

It grows so silent that all I can hear is a handful of rapid heartbeats. A Higher walks in, white robe dragging on the floor as he walks onto the mat. Garrett bows his head and the rest of us follow.

“All of you can look up,” the Higher says, his pale eyes skimming us over. I recognize his eyes because they’ve stared at me a couple of times. Gabrielle.

He laps his hands behind his back and he paces the mat. “I know it’s not normal for Highers to interact with the Bellators, but today is an exception.” He pauses, letting his words linger with the importance he thinks they hold. “Someone has been keeping secrets from the Highers and needs to be punished.”