The Giver sat alone in his chambers, hoping that Jonas would make it to the destination on the outside of the Community, whatever may lay there, perhaps the design briefs for the controlling medicine that was administered to those who couldn't feel the same way he could about the people around them, or see how beautiful the world could be if they could see colours. He began reminiscing over how brilliant it was to see colours and feel the warm touch of the sun's light on his skin, almost being able to feel it like he still had one of his original memories from before the Communities and Sameness began.

Jonas had reached the edge of the community a few days ago now, but there were still no changes in the lives of the citizens, still just as controlled and orderly as they had always been, pure logic driving their actions, emotions abandoned in favour of order. The Giver remained locked in his chambers, refusing to leave until some sign of the memories returning was found in the world outside of the annex, instead laying alone, unable to sleep but also unable to awaken from his memories, the few that he still retained playing over and over in his head, ever-unchanging. The memories he kept were all pleasant ones, like snow and pets, however the memories of colour remained outside of his grasp, all given to Jonas before he left, all that remained being a passing glimpse of a rainbow, if he concentrated on it, it would almost seem to get longer the more he looked at it, as though he was regaining the memory, its strength gaining with every passing minute. It was beginning to seem as though it had not been the only memory that was strengthening, the memory of family was beginning to come back too. The giver had finally realised that Jonas had succeeded in his mission to return the memories, and that it was time to leave.

Lily remained at home, wondering why Jonas had not returned from his morning run that he had told them of in his note from the night before, though not giving much thought to it, being more intent on excitement over the Ceremony happening in only a few days. Asher was playing with his friends outside, playing swordfight with branches that had fallen off of the trees, trading blows with his opponent, Pierre, in a rhythmic fashion, although it looked quite strange to one who knew the art well. Asher had the upper hand, for every hit he took, he dealt two more, until Pierre stopped, straightened his stance, swapped the branch between his hands a few times, stopping in his left hand, and began swinging in a far more controlled and precise manner, taking Asher off guard, and striking a number of times, harder and faster than any of the blows that had landed before. Asher stood back up, no longer blindsided by the wildly different style, and began his counterattack. What Pierre saw was quite different to what Asher saw, instead of the blank, monochrome landscape of before, he saw bright green grass, and gleaming steel armour, sparking with every blow he landed with his longsword. Asher's counterattack was useless against the skill Pierre now possessed, his branch striking true with every swing, now drawing blood and breaking bones, though he couldn't see the damage he was doing, blinded by the memory of duelling that had returned.

As Asher lay on the ground, others gained memories of brutal slaughter, and without the experience dealing with the memories that Jonas gained through the good memories, they were overwhelmed, only the truly strong holding on, while the others began slaughtering their former friends, without being able to see the damage they were causing. Those who held on banded together, and formed groups to fight the government for the right to remember everything. The Council of Elders, already having experience with the memories, formed a new government, dedicated to eradicating the memories so order could return, began recruiting those who remained to fight the rebellion of remembrance, with threat of death if they did not cooperate. The Giver sat alone in his chambers, regretting what he had chosen to do. He realised now that teaching the people would be impossible without more Receivers with experience, and that the only thing left for him now, was death. He stole one of the release syringes, and injected himself, dying with only regrets. The Community was gone, now only the chaos of war remained.