The Ark had been cold.

The ground was alive—with danger, with possibility, with sounds Bellamy still couldn’t name.

It had only been three days since the dropship landed, and already, the weight of leadership pressed down on him like the stale recycled air of the Ark. But he wasn’t alone.

You were there.

Not his sister—never his sister—but something just as vital. His partner in this madness, his equal in command. The only person whose quiet presence steadied him when the camp’s chaos threatened to spiral.

Now, the two of you moved through the forest, silent as ghosts, bows drawn as you hunted for food. The leaves whispered secrets overhead, the earth soft underfoot.

Then Bellamy spoke, his voice low, rough with something that wasn’t just exhaustion.

"I heard you and Murphy. Last night."

A twig snapped under his boot.

"You shouldn’t mess around with him." His jaw tightened. "You’ll get your heart broken."