Oni's interest in trying to be a Volunteer had all but come to an end four days in. It was all meaningless. It was all difficult. It was all impossible with a head cadet looking to make him bleed.

More than once, as Dev watched the female fighters' evaluation, Sen's head turned, rotating so slowly it looked more machine than human, until the lone eye locked with Oni's terrified face.

Dev never noticed. Or if she had, she didn't let on.

Oni instinctively inched closer to the wall. But now he was practically in it.

Now, more than ever, Oni wanted to leave.

It had been hell living poor, sleeping with one eye open, but at least he could have slept.

Sen, like Dev, watched the open area below but raised his left hand back and used his index and middle finger to take aim at Oni. The imaginary gun was so convincing Oni's left hand slid up to the metal strip on his chest.

He wasn't going to make it at this rate. There was no way, but he decided he wasn't going down alone.

The words, Bring me a head cadet's Volunteer uniform, pounded in Oni's head.

But how am I going to do that, Lotsu? Head cadets are too strong. Look. There aren't even adults in there. That's how strong they are.

Just gain their trust, Lotsu had insisted. And after you've gained their trust, single one out and get to work. Recruit one for help if you have to.

Oni stared at Dev's back for some time. Then he risked setting his sights on Sen.

In that very moment, Oni knew who to get a head cadet uniform from. But he'd need loyalty. He'd get back into their good graces somehow.

How can I get them to trust me?

Lotsu's voice pounded in Oni's head. Start spilling some secrets.

But the only person possibly interested in hearing was Dev and she was no option. No. It should be Sen. Getting trust from that monster seemed an impossible feat.

As Dev watched the crowd below, however, Oni found himself watching her. Why did his stomach feel turned upside down?

He tried to make sense of his curiosity about her. No, he started wondering strange things—like...if she were single.

"Are you still mad?" Dev whispered.

Nothing. Her cousin continued to look forward.

"Bury the hatchet—"

"Only if I can bury it in his chest."

Oni swallowed hard but Dev laughed, triumphant. "Okay. You're talking. That's a good sign. Come on," she teased, "you can't stay mad forever."

There was no further chatter after that. Spectacular performances from the tryouts below had the crowd on their feet more than once but Oni knew nothing of it.

Instead, he studied his new mark, Sen, unabashed.

There had to be a way in.

It was too bad Dev was his cousin because Lotsu always said couples were easy to disarm and defeat.

Oni stared so intently he forgot to breathe until Dev pulled Sen's arm onto her lap then laced their fingers together.

With that, Oni gasped. He had to cough to counteract his sharp intake of breath after having none for so long.

Were...were they a couple?

He almost believed it when Sen slipped from Dev's grip, snaked his arms around her waist, and pressed his face into her neck.

She cradled him close. Going so far as to rub his back.

"I want to leave," he said.

With a pat of his shoulder, she answered, "Why would you wanna leave? I'm not going anywhere without getting what I came for. You'd leave me all alone, wouldn't you?"

He gave no answer.

It was instinct that drove Oni to look down at the crowd to spy Bray watching the display as well, confused.

He wasn't the only one. Dev's seven crew members stared on.

Neither of them cared.

"Come on. My girls are next. Sit up and watch. You can sulk alone later."

But instead, Sen broke their embrace and lay down on the opposite end of the seats. Dev continued to pat his back as she watched on.

Oni forced himself to observe the tryouts as well.

He was more than curious how much bloodshed this session would require. And there would certainly be some.

"So," Dev asked Sen, "what can you tell me about them? I can't figure them out."

Her cousin muttered, "Whatever you do, don't give them the okay to fight another crew."

Dev lowered her left hand but said nothing.

Sen picked his head up then rested again. "Ha. Chump."

"Explain what you mean."

"Oh, you'll see. And I can't explain what I don't understand. All I know is that people hate them. All seven of them. And they don't forget a slight. Never. The shortest one is called Mercy. Which is hilarious because that cretin shows absolutely none. The one that always sets them in motion is Pleasant. Again. Hilarious since she's anything but."

"Pleasant?" Dev scowled. "I'd thought those were handles."

"Nah. Honest names. Can you rescind that permission to fight others?"

Dev didn't answer. Oni looked to see why.

It was one crew against Dev's at first. Seven fighters for seven. But then another group of seven followed and yet another still.

"Three groups have taken their challenge." Dev stood. "They're morons."

"Sit down," Sen muttered and crouched up on the seats. "All the better if they wash out early and go home. At least they'll go home upright and not in a body-bag. Aren't you always little Ms. Trust the Process?"

Dev obeyed his words and watched on.

She winced in sympathy once or twice, but slowly her frown vanished, replaced by admiration.

From this angle, Oni enjoyed seeing that transformation. That is, until she spoke.

"I think...I'm in love," Dev announced, awed.

Sen sat up like a puppet pulled on a string. He looked out at the all-female battlefield and scooted closer, his left arm on Dev's right shoulder. "Hey, I am very open-minded and flexible. That right there, with a little imagination, could lead to something beautiful. Please, go on...."

Oni puzzled over Sen's words then gasped, surprised.

He found himself standing instead until Sen paused in grinning then sat up.

"Oh. You meant a fighting style," Sen complained.

Dev leaned forward, elbows on her knees but answered, "Of course I meant a fighting style. What did you think I meant?"

Sen matched her posture. Whatever he found, he was equally impressed. "They are actually...good."

A sharp crunch noise from Pleasant stomping on one girl's leg had Sen rubbing his foot in sympathy.

"I thought girls were...gentler. Softer. These sisters fight like something spawned from a sick video game."

Dev watched on, mouth hanging open. "Look how fluid their movements are. It's so seamless.... So...."

"Familiar," Sen agreed. He unhooked Dev's matrix, typed in her code and held the device up. After the beep sounded, they both looked at it. "Hoa!" Sen swore. "How is this possible?"

"It's...." Dev took the matrix from him and glanced at her crew before looking down to compare the findings. "It's almost identical. This is a Volunteer fight formation. And not just any Volunteer." She and Sen met eyes when she said, "It's a classified formation, only the highest-ranking combat Volunteers are allowed to use it freely. My own father only knew the first sequence of that. Look. They're using almost all aspects."

Sen forgot his anger and disdain as he watched the battle continue. "They've removed twelve people already."

Oni swallowed hard, debating whether or not to give this secret away. Specifically, the fact...that he knew this formation as well. Quite a number of Vagrants did. It was a well-kept secret.

One glance down at the carnage below and he decided that these girls were throwing the secret out regardless, so he stood and sat down on Dev's left side, as close as he dared.

"It's a safety formation," Oni explained.

"Yes," Dev answered, doing nothing further to acknowledge him, "it says that right here."

"No. You don't get it. Fifteen years ago, an abandoned Volunteer snuck back into the Outerlimits promising to train everyone for a revolution. He was captured by a ruthless Volunteer called 555. She took him in and a month later, he supposedly died of 'suicide.'"

Sen and Dev shared a glance. Dev waited and Sen gave in.

"Don't bring it up."

"But...." Dev hesitated then whispered, "But if she was your mother—"

"Don't bring it up I said."

Now it was Oni's turn to mask his surprise. Did they honestly know this Volunteer Sentinel 555?

The fight was near an end so Oni hurried before he missed his chance.

"Well, before he was recaptured, he taught many people this formation. It's still used now for anyone looking to enter into recruitment. But...I've never seen this specific routine. But one thing's for sure, the only reason we'd use this format is to protect our weak."

Dev's body stiffened. Her head rotated until she faced him. "Weak?"

Oni swallowed hard. This went against everything he'd ever been taught about keeping his mouth shut.

Uttering the words felt like regurgitating glass. "Yes. I told you one was hiding an injury. I'd say...it's probably someone with a weak heart."

Dev closed her eyes and asked, "Are you saying that one or more of those seven are trying to push through to get healed with a recruitment?"

Sen shook his head. "I don't think they realize it's a fool's errand."

Oni answered Dev finally, "You don't notice people cover their noses when they pass by? That's because those seven work in the sewage plant. They're the meanest because of it. They get everything last. They can't even handle food or take care of others as nurses. No one'll let them. It's either Volunteering or nothing. So yeah, if one of them's sick, the rest maybe trying to get her through together. She can't do too much cardio and probably has no eye for shooting. They have to fight."

Pleasant bit out a cry as she jumped in front of Mercy and took a kick to the gut for her effort.

With that, Oni found the weakling. He hated doing this. Everything in him cried not to. But he needed this trust.

"There's your sick one. Mercy."