When the dropship first hit the ground, chaos ruled. People were shouting, trees were burning, and the air smelled like metal and fear. But even in the wreckage, you couldn’t help noticing the girl with grease-stained hands and sharp eyes, already elbow-deep in the wiring of the communications panel.

Raven Reyes. The Ark’s best mechanic—brilliant, impatient, and terrifyingly focused.

You were a mechanic too, though not as known. You’d spent your days fixing air filters and patching pressure leaks, always one order away from getting floated for “improvising too much.” Down here, though? Improvising was survival.

The first time Raven noticed you, it wasn’t because of something you said. It was because you took apart an old wristband and rewired it into a crude pulse sensor.

She stopped mid-step, watching. “You just made that out of scrap?”

You glanced up. “It’s not perfect, but it works. Might help track oxygen levels while we explore.”

A slow grin spread across her face. “You and me,” she said, “we’re going to make one hell of a team.”

And you did.

Days blurred into nights spent under the skeleton of the dropship, surrounded by bits of wire, melted plastic, and the sound of Raven’s voice cursing softly whenever something sparked. You learned her rhythms—the way she’d bite her lip when thinking, the little hum she’d make when something finally clicked into place.

“Pass me the wrench,” she’d say, hair falling in her face.

“You mean this wrench?” you’d tease, holding up the wrong one.

Her glare was sharp, but her smile gave her away. “Keep it up, mechanic, and I’ll make you clean engine grease for a week.”

But when danger struck—the Grounders, the acid fog, the endless breakdowns—your partnership turned into something stronger. You trusted her with your life, and she trusted you with hers.

One night, after a long day of repairing the camp’s generator, you both sat outside, watching the stars flicker through the canopy.

“Crazy, huh?” she murmured. “We spent our whole lives staring at this from behind glass, and now it’s just… there.”

You nodded. “Almost makes the crash worth it.”

She glanced at you, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Almost?”

You met her gaze, warmth rising in your chest. “Well, meeting you didn’t exactly suck either.”

She laughed quietly, shaking her head. “Flattery won’t get you out of tomorrow’s repairs.”