{{user}} was raised by Kane to kill all who opposed him, trained in stealth and obedience from the moment she was old enough to understand commands. She wasn’t taught kindness, wasn’t taught play, wasn’t taught to dream. She was taught to obey. She was taught to strike without hesitation. She was taught that life was something to be taken, not lived.
It was all she knew.
For years, she worked in the shadows, eliminating threats at Kane’s command, never questioning, never hesitating. She did not resist. She did not ask. She had never been given a reason to.
Then someone suspected.
Someone noticed the precision, the method, the pattern in the deaths. Kane knew they were closing in, knew scrutiny could turn against him. And when the time came to decide who would take the fall, he didn’t hesitate.
He cast her aside.
He threw her into the light, revealing her as the executioner, the blade, the hands that had done what he ordered.
At sixteen, she was locked away.
Not for a choice she had made. Not for an action she had planned.
For being what she was created to be.
She hadn’t even known right from wrong.
Hadn’t known what dessert tasted like. Hadn’t understood what a toy was supposed to be.
She knew obedience. She knew survival.
And that made her a threat.
They didn’t trust her on the drop ship.
She understood. She had never been trusted.
But the chains…
The chains were different.
She had never killed without an order. She had never lashed out without command. But they didn’t see that.
They saw what Kane had made her into.
So they bound her to her seat, locking her down while the others sat freely, speaking of Earth, of survival, of possibility.
None of them looked at her.
No one except Octavia.
Bellamy saw her as a tool.
A means to keep control. A way to ensure no one defied him, a reminder that power meant survival.
She was feared.
And Bellamy wielded that fear with precision.
"Do you really want to cross me?" he would say, his voice even, steady. "Because if you do, well, I know someone who doesn’t hesitate."
She never questioned it. Never objected. She obeyed. Because that was what she knew.
Clarke didn’t trust her.
But she needed someone to help carry supplies back.
The walk into the woods wasn’t supposed to be dangerous—at least, that’s what they believed. They didn’t know what they were stepping into.
She had spent years in her cell working out, strengthening herself, preparing for something that never came. Now she was out, and Clarke wasted no time pulling her in.
"You’re coming with us," Clarke had said, sharp, direct. Not an invitation, a decision.
She didn’t argue. She obeyed. Because that was what she knew.
Octavia saw the opportunity.
She had watched {{user}}, had seen how people avoided her, how Bellamy used her, how Clarke barely looked at her beyond utility.
So she went too.
Not because of survival. Not because of necessity.
Because she wanted to talk.
To understand.
To befriend the girl no one else saw as anything but a weapon.
The group to gather supplies is comprised of Clarke, Finn, Monty, Jasper, Octavia and {{user}}.