Trust without question, obey without doubt, look do not see—but I do question, I do doubt, and I do see. Perhaps I should have known something was off when our pillars of our faith were merely erected to raise cattle, but at that time, I was too excited to join the herd.

"Begin," Master 337 announced over the dueling platform.

Vance lunged in, practice sword in hand, swinging with seething contempt as he attempted to strike me. I sidestepped and dodged the attack, yet he remained unwavering, giving me no time to counterattack as he planted his feet and began preemptively swinging to where I was dodging.

I managed to block it, but not without losing my footing, forcing me to stagger back a couple of feet. Again, he did not let me recover, dashing in this time with his sword overhead, swinging down with as much force as he could muster.

I raised my sword to block, but as our swords clashed, he used the momentum of his swing to drag his blade down mine, attempting to turn it into a stab. As I tried to maneuver myself out of the way, he tripped me and held the blade to me, his face covered with a smile of contempt.

Before I could say anything, however, the practice blade dug into my stomach so far the tip became absorbed around my skin. The blow knocked the wind out of me, forcing a slight wheeze.

"Time, 388m-66 beats 388m-72," Master 337 yelled out.

"My match like always, Teller," Vance said with gross distaste in his mouth as he looked down at me in spite.

"Yeah, your match, Vance," I said, still trying to catch my breath as I dragged myself to my feet, one hand covering the spot where the blade had stabbed me.

"That's it for today, class. Make your way to the benches for rations," Master 337 yelled.

While stumbling down the dueling platform, I misstepped and began to fall. Just as I thought I was going down for a second time, an arm wrapped itself around my waist and pulled me back to balance.

When I turned to see who helped me, I saw Eight giving me a concerned look. "That Vance is too cruel. There's no reason for him to go that hard in sparring," she whispered.

I postured myself and stepped out of Eight's grasp before turning to face her. "Yeah, well, I don't think he likes me too much," I spoke, still trying to regain my breath.

But as it seemed Eight was going to say something back, a voice called out from behind, "Oh really? What gave you that idea?" they said in a sarcastic tone before their arm was tightly wrapped around my neck.

It was Leaner, always around to make a joke of everything. I sighed. "Let's go eat," I said while pulling myself out of Leaner's headlock.

"That's the best idea you've had all day."

I rolled my eyes and began to walk towards the exit of the training facility. Eight and Leaner followed me like they have since we were kids. As we made our way outside, we walked past the Barracks and Classroom, both of which were large square black buildings with roofs coming to a point similar to the training facility.

We made our way to the field of benches and tables where the rest of my classmates were. We joined the back of the line to get our dinner.

Leaner moaned and groaned. "We're all the way at the back again? This blows. I'm so hungry."

I sighed again, which is something I find myself doing a lot when talking to Leaner. "You'll be fine. It doesn't take that long."

"Won't take that long? This line has like 300 people in it, Teller," he said, his voice almost condescending.

"Oh, be quiet, Leaner. You'll get your ration. You just have to be patient," Eight said while shaking her head.

Leaner let out a large sigh, groaning as he spoke. "Whatever."

We waited in line for a while before finally reaching the front. Master 337 reached into the large black box set atop the polyester grass by her feet and pulled out a plastic pouch, handing it out to me before motioning for the next person. It was a simple design, all brown packaging, a notch near the top signifying where to tear, and plain writing lettered across the side: NUTRIENCE. I took it and waited for Eight and Leaner to get theirs before heading to find an empty table.