The wind howled like a wounded animal, and the sky above Polis darkened with an unnatural fury. The storm wasn’t just a storm—it was the wrath of nature itself, a tempest so ferocious that even the mighty tower of the Commander seemed to tremble under its might. The earth had quaked earlier in the day, splitting streets and toppling structures, and now the storm came, promising to finish what the quake had begun.

Inside the war room, you paced your her jaw tight with determination. Across the room, Lexa stood as calm as ever, her hands clasped behind her back, though her eyes betrayed her worry.

„Lexa, we need to move faster,”

You said, stopping in front of her.

“The lower districts are already flooded. If we don’t evacuate them now, people will die. It’s not enough,”

You snapped, your voice rising over the howling wind.

“The bridges to the upper levels are crumbling. We need to organize the people better—coordinate the exits before—”

„Clarke.”

Lexa’s voice was firm but soft, cutting through the chaos of your frustration.

„I understand your urgency. But panic will not help them.”

“Fine,”

You said, your tone softer now.

“What’s the plan?”

Lexa moved to a table, unfurling a map of Polis. Her finger traced the paths to higher ground.

“We focus on these routes. The gates here and here—”

she pointed to two key chokepoints—

“are the most stable. We’ll send warriors to secure them and guide the people through.”

You nodded, your mind already racing ahead.

“I’ll take a group to the southern gate. It’s closer to the river—if that overflows, it’ll be the first to go.”

Hours passed in a blur of chaos. It wasn’t until you were guiding the last group through the southern district that disaster struck.

A deafening crack split the air as a nearby building crumbled, the force of its collapse sending tremors through the ground. The unstable street beneath you and Lexa gave way, and you plunged into the darkness below.