A/N: Hello! So, after making a Divergent Bellarke AU GIF Set, I decided to write a fic for it. I'm not sure how long it's going to be, but it will be multi-chapter. No Bellamy in this chapter, and there will be very little of him in the next one, but that'll be rectified in chapter three.

Remember to Favourite/Alert/Review! It keeps me motivated! (Especially reviews). Anyway, enjoy!

Clarke Griffin, clad in standard Erudite Blue, looked at herself in the mirror, smoothing back her hair. She eyed the thick framed glasses that were perched on her bedside table. She didn't need them to help her vision-Erudite had the technology to repair any retinal damage-but it was common practice for anyone in the knowledge based faction to wear them. It presented the appearance of intelligence, but Clarke didn't understand the logic behind it. Regardless, she picked up the frames and perched them on the bridge of her nose.

Today, she wanted to be perfect. After all, today was the day of her test. She knows, just as everyone should, how important the test was. The future belongs to those who know where they belong. The lesson had been repeated over and over for the majority of Clarke's life. It was the overarching aspect of the curriculum taught in school. It drove Society. Without the faction system, there would be chaos. That was one thing everyone could agree on.

Heading down from her bedroom, she smelt breakfast cooking on the stove. Her father was standing at the stove, eggs sizzling in the pan in his hand, and her mother was reading the morning paper.

"Good morning, Sweetheart," Abby greeted, looking up from the words on the page. Her smile was warm and full of love; the same as it was every morning.

Clarke returned the smile and sat down at the table. "Anything interesting in the news today?" Clarke asked, the standard Erudite curiosity colouring her voice.

"Just the same as everyday," her mother sighed. "Horrible accusations against Abnegation."

Clarke furrowed her brow. "You don't believe it?"

"I think the truth is often stretched to fit the needs of others," she replied.

"What proof do you have?" Clarke asked, wanting to understand just as she was taught to do.

"It's just a belief," Abby said. Her tone was so nonchalant for such an out-of-character statement. Erudite valued fact and knowledge above all; simply believing something for the sake of believing didn't make sense.

Her father interjected in the conversation before she could press her mother further.

"Your test is today," he said matter-of-factly, looking at her over his shoulder.

Clarke nodded.

"Are you nervous?" her mother asked.

Clarke debated on this for a moment. She has taken many tests in her life, and she excelled at them. There wasn't a reason for this test to be any different, but there was something daunting about a test that virtually tells you who you are and who you are meant to be. She tried to find the right words to string together to accurately describe her feelings. "I'm not nervous, really, more…"

"Anxious? Apprehensive? Excited?" her father asked, finished with cooking, trying to help her finish her sentence.

She shook her head. There didn't seem to be a word to describe what she felt. "I don't know how I feel."

"I don't think that's true," Abby added. "You just can't put it into words."

Clarke smiled. Her mother knew her well; so well, in fact, it seemed like she could read her daughter's mind. For some reason, it was a comfort to Clarke.

Clarke couldn't help but wring her hands in her classes that day. Wells Jaha, a fellow Erudite, and one of Clarke's closest friends, couldn't help but notice. "Nervous for your test?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. They were sitting at a cafeteria table, both not really in the mood to eat.

Clarke shrugged it off. "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" she retorted, her voice sharper than she intended. Wells backed off slightly. "I'm sorry," she said after taking a breath. "I shouldn't be so on edge."

"It's fine to be on edge. If it makes you feel any better, I'm a bit nervous, myself."

"How very Candor of you," she teased, the tense moment evaporating as quickly as it developed.

Wells shrugged. "Honesty isn't a bad thing," he said.

Clarke looked at the ground. "Do you think you'll get Erudite as your faction?"

"I'm not sure," he replied before going silent for a moment. Clarke glanced up from the spot on the floor, he was deep in thought, possibly considering his options. He opened his mouth to speak, but their time for lunch was up and the test was next on the day's schedule. She wouldn't get to know his answer; once the test was taken, they weren't supposed to discuss their results.

Clarke took a deep breath as she walked to the testing rooms. This was it.

"Hello," the Abnegation volunteer greeted Clarke. "Take a seat," she said motioning to the chair in the middle of the room. The chair was perpendicular to a floor to ceiling mirror that covered an entire wall. She questioned it's purpose; she couldn't figure out a logical reason for it to be there.

The woman in grey started explaining the process, but Clarke interrupted her instructions. "I know how this works," she said with an anxious smile.

The volunteer just nodded. She's probably heard that sentence a lot today. Clarke felt a pain of guilt. She hoped she didn't upset her somehow.

Sparing Clarke's conscience, the woman, seemingly unaffected by her words, handed her the serum. "Drink up."

Clarke opened her eyes and found herself standing in front of the wall-to-wall mirror. She walked toward herself. She looked different. In her reflection, her hair was down and her face was free of the frames. Though, when she touched her blonde locks, it was smoothed back into the ponytail she made this morning, and her glasses were still perched on her nose.

Maybe the mirror had a purpose after all.

"Choose," a voice said. Clarke spun around, pushing any thoughts about her reflection aside when she was presented with two options: a knife and a block of cheese.

"What are they for?" she asked, not sure who her question was directed to. It sounded vaguely like Wells's father, Thelonius. Leader of the Erudite faction. Clarke wasn't certain.

"Choose," the voice repeated.

Clarke gingerly held her hand out toward the knife; if a danger presented itself, it would be more useful than a hunk of cheese. However, the cheese had the potential to be helpful as well. She needed more information.

Before she could ask their purpose once more, the podiums disappeared and she heard a loud bark come from behind her.

The dog that charged her seemed larger than any dog she'd seen in the past. She took a step back, but knew in the small room she couldn't run forever. She had to think. She searched her mind for any helpful information she absorbed over the years. Then, it hit her. Submission.

Making herself as small as possible, she bowed her head to the dog making his attack. Taking deep breaths, Clarke stayed calm. This would work, she was sure of it.

The loud barking stopped and Clarke opened her eyes. Sitting in front of her was the dog, panting with his tongue out. Clarke reached out to let him sniff her hand before she began scratching his ears. She smiled, proud of herself. Though, her pride melted away when a small girl appeared at the other end of the room.

"I don't want to be afraid," she said, despite the terror that filled her voice. The dog growled and turned to face her.

No, Clarke thought. The young girl had tears forming in her eyes. "Help me, please!" She shouted. Clarke would. She wished she just picked up the damn knife.

Clarke stood up and chased down the dog, making her legs work until they burned. The animal was fast, but Clarke was determined to catch up. The dog opened his mouth, bearing his teeth when Clarke leaped and wrapped her arms around his strong body, forcing him to the floor.

She woke up gasping in the testing room.

Sweat formed on her forehead, but she couldn't bring herself to care. "What was my result?" she asked quickly and anxiously. The worried expression on the Abnegation volunteer's face didn't help her nerves. "What's wrong? Did I fail?"

The volunteer shook her head. "Your result was Erudite," she paused. "And Dauntless and Abnegation."

Clarke was confused. "Excuse me?" She shook her head. "That's not possible," she said, standing up from her seat, she went over to the monitor. "See?" she said, pointing to the screen. "Abnegation."

"That's the result I entered in for you." There was genuine terror in her eyes, but not for herself. No, that fear was meant for Clarke. "You can't let anyone know what you are."

"I don't understand. What am I?"

"You're Divergent." Clarke has heard the term before. Only once in passing. Her mother said it once in a conversation with her father. Divergents threaten the system, Abby said. "You need to hide where they'll never find you."

"Why?" she asked. "What's wrong with me?"

"You can't be controlled."

"How do you know so much about this?"
"You need to go home," the woman said, ignoring Clarke's question. "Go home and don't tell anyone. Not your parents, not your best friend, no one."

Clarke nodded hesitantly and backed toward the exit. "Why Abnegation?"

"They won't be able to find you there."