The sky was endless, stretching over the new Earth like a vast, foreign canvas. You stood at the edge of the clearing, the cool breeze brushing your face, carrying the scent of fresh pine and damp earth. It had only been a few days since you landed, since the delinquents were thrust from the cold metal of the Ark into the unknown wilderness of the ground. Earth was supposed to be empty—a graveyard of radiation and decay. But it wasn’t. You weren’t alone.

“Clarke!”

Bellamy’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. You turned, finding him with his bow slung over his shoulder.

“We’re heading into the forest. We need food, and you’re better at identifying plants.”

You nodded, glancing once more at the horizon before following him into the dense forest.

“Stay sharp,”

Bellamy muttered, raising his hand to signal you to halt.

“We don’t know who or what could be out here.”

You pressed on, navigating the winding paths through the forest until you spotted her—a figure draped in dark leather and armor, her face streaked with paint. She was quick, agile, but the element of surprise had been on their side. The group encircled her like predators. She fought back, her movements fluid and lethal, but she was outnumbered.

Lexa was captured.

The campfire flickered, shadows dancing across the makeshift walls of your camp. Lexa was tied to a post, her head held high, eyes defiant despite the cuts and bruises on her face. She hadn’t spoken a word since her capture. She only watched you, her gaze like a predator’s—calculated, unyielding.

“She’s one of them,”

Bellamy said, pacing in front of her.

“She knows what’s out there. She knows who else is watching us.”

“Then let me make her talk,”

Murphy suggested, a cruel grin tugging at his lips. His fists did the talking, each blow landing with a sickening thud. Lexa didn’t flinch. She didn’t scream. You watched in horrified silence as Murphy continued, and each strike felt like a blade slicing into your own conscience.