Everyone at the table looked at Victor, who was crouched low. Roger was threatening them all with death. Could Victor give himself up? He was steeling himself to stand up when Lucas lay a hand on his arm.

"Don't do it, Vic," he whispered. Fumio nodded in agreement.

"Giving you up is the same as acknowledging him as leader. I have no intentions of letting that happen," Edgar said.

Frank moved in the way of Roger's view of Victor. "Head toward the back. We'll try and convince him you're not here."

Victor wanted to get up. He wanted to get up and tell Roger to fuck off. Even if it meant dying, at least he'd save everyone. Instead, he slid under the table and crawled quietly away from certain death.

"We don't know where he is, Roger," Victor heard Lucas say. Damn that kid was brave. Unlike him.

Victor could hear his father's voice every inch away from danger.

A Vance on his knees? Your brother would never let this happen. The shame of it. You are a failure and a coward.

"He's generally in the training area at this time of day," Frank said.

How could you let your friends risk themselves this way? All of those lives for your one. You don't deserve them.

Bitter tears streamed down Victor's face from shame and disgust as he crawled for dear life. He was past the table now, and making a bee-line for the food line. No one ever went there. He had fought, but only when he had had no choice. Now that he did he was running away. No. He was crawling away. Other students could see him, but none said anything.

"Are you all fucking with me?" Roger asked. He did not sound patient.

Victor stopped on his hands and knees, less than a few feet from relative safety amongst the mess hall machinery. He fought with himself, willing himself to be a man, willing himself to stand.

You're wrong, Father. I'm not a coward. I won't sacrifice my friends. I am as good as my brother.

He was shaking. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to get himself to stand. He sensed eyes on him. Most of the students were intentionally not looking at him. They could have given him away by merely looking in his direction, after all. Even people he didn't know were protecting him. Then he locked eyes with Bracias.

The boy looked scared beyond reason. He looked tense, ready to spring.

It's alright, Bracias, Victor thought.

When Bracias stood up and pointed at Victor, Victor wasn't angry. He wasn't afraid. He was relieved and thankful. The decision had been made for him.

"He's over here! He's over here!"

Victor took a knee in preparation to stand up and face the fire when a hand rested on his shoulder. It was one of the civil engineer kids, a short kid with black hair. He put a finger to his lips, indicating silence.

Edgar stood up from his chair. "No, he's over there!" he said, pointing in a different direction.

"No over there!" said another kid from somewhere else in the eating area. A chorus of voices started shouting and claiming that Victor was in different areas of the cafeteria. Bracias was trying to shout over them, but sounded so desperate and ridiculous that his voice was no more believable than anyone else's.

The civil engineering kid crawled over to the food line and waved Victor over.

"This way," he whispered. "You had the right idea."

Behind the food line the kid kept going, leading Victor to a small vent behind one of the mechanical arms. Victor didn't even know it was there. The kid pulled the vent cover off and waved Victor through.

"Take a left at the first turn in the vent shaft. It'll lead to one of the maintenance areas. Wait for someone there."

"You're not coming with me?"

"No can do, my friend. Gotta stay behind and do what I can."

"I should stay, too," Victor said. Why was everyone going to the trouble?

"We made our decision. Do me a favor and make sure it's worth it."

The boy moved to place the lid on behind Victor.

"Wait. What's your name?

"I'm Miguel," the kid said, with a wink. "Miguel Roman."

Victor moved through the vents. It felt wrong to go forward, but somehow disrespectful of everyone to turn back. Or was his father right? Was he just a coward?

It was possible, after all, that Roger was bluffing. He was no Dixon. At least, that's what everyone kept saying. What Victor kept telling himself.

Then he heard screams.

Without thinking Victor turned around and headed back towards the mess hall and the other students. The adrenaline began to settle into a calm, ruthless pragmatism. With control over the drones it was only a matter of time before Roger found him. It sounded like chaos was ensuing in the cafeteria. If he could reach Roger, then maybe...

"Vance?! What the fuck are you still doing here? Go, go, go!" It was Miguel. This time Victor didn't move. "I don't have time to argue. It's too dangerous in there. Roger already left. We've got to regroup for our next move. You want to make it up to the people left? Do it by surviving. If you die now it was all for nothing."

Miguel shoved Victor until he began to move down the vent away from the cafeteria. Miguel's words echoed in his mind. ...the people left, he had said. Were people actually dying?

The vent came to a room about ten by ten feet across with a control panel on one of it's walls. Miguel sat down and put his face in his hands. Victor just stood, letting his resolve deepen. How could he have let that happen? How did he let himself react that way? It would never happen again. He swore to himself that he would never run from a fight another time.

Someone had come for him. Someone had come for his friends. He could either do something about that or stand idly by while the decisions were made for him by others.

It was time for war.