(General POV)
The forest floor blurred beneath Jason's feet as he darted through the trees, every muscle coiled tight with precision and purpose.
The wind carried the familiar scent of pine and earth but beneath it lingered something else, there were distant voices and movements.
Bellamy and a few of his men had just passed minutes ago, heading east to hujt a boar according to what he heard from one of the boys with him. Jason, however, was going north toward the river, toward Clarke and the others. His pace was fast, steady… until he heard a laughter that echoed faintly through the forest.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
His brows furrowed. "Someone's laughing?'
Out here?" His tone darkened as he muttered under his breath, "Didn't I already tell everyone not to wander off alone?"
The sound came again in a soft, melodic, teasingly tune and he immediately shifted direction, moving toward it. He launched himself upward, landing silently on a branch. Then another. The forest blurred beneath him as he leapt from tree to tree, with his flawless balance. When the sound grew louder, he backflipped off the last branch, landing in a crouch amidst a patch of ferns.
Drawing his knife, Jason moved forward with slow, deliberate steps. He parted the brush and froze.
Hanging before him were hundreds of butterflies glowing, luminous blue and clustered in layers along two drooping vines that hung from an ancient tree. The sight was ethereal, hauntingly beautiful. Jason blinked once, whispering to himself, "A kaleidoscope… that's what they're called." It was their hive.
And then he was distracted by the laughter again.
His eyes shifted sharply. Through the fluttering glow, he spotted Octavia Blake, barefoot, smiling, entranced by the living chandelier of butterflies. Jason exhaled sharply through his nose and groaned.
"Of course," he muttered, sheathing the knife. How hard is it for this girl to listen just once?
He paused, though. Another thought crossed his mind, one that softened the irritation slightly. 'She spent her whole life hiding in shadows for being born and following rules too afraid to reveal herself. Now she's finally free… maybe I can't blame her for wanting to breathe.'
He sighed and was just sliding his knife away when a low rustle echoed from his right. His Instinct took over as he immediately scanned the surrounding. He dropped low, eyes narrowing as he scanned the treeline as well and saw nothing. Then, he heard a faint growl. He turned sharply—
—just in time to see a large, sleek shadow emerge from the underbrush to Octavia's left. Muscles rippled beneath its fur, its eyes glinted gold.
Jason's breath caught.
"Oh, shit… that's a panther."
In one fluid motion, he grabbed his spear and hurled it. "Octavia, get down!" he shouted.
The spear whistled through the air, grazing the creature's flank just as it leapt. The panther twisted midair, roaring in fury. Octavia screamed, stumbling backward as one of its claws hooked her shirt, tearing through fabric and grazing her skin.
Jason landed beside her, body tense. "Run!" he barked. But she didn't move, she was frozen in shock.
"Dammit…" Jason muttered, circling the beast as it prowled low, baring its teeth. He switched grip on his knife, the blade glinting in the faint light.
The panther lunged first. Jason sidestepped, slashing across its shoulder. The animal roared, spinning and swiping; its claws tore through Jason's back, drawing a guttural hiss from him. The pain burned, but he didn't falter. He twisted low, using its momentum to drive his knee into its chest, forcing distance.
It lunged again and much faster this time. Jason ducked under, caught its front leg, and rolled, dragging his knife in a brutal upward arc that opened its belly. The creature howled in agony, collapsing forward. Before it could recover, Jason surged up and plunged his knife from its stomach up through the neck.
The forest went silent again except for Jason's ragged breathing.
He stumbled back, clutching his side where blood dripped freely down his spine. The dead panther twitched once before going still.
"You okay?" he asked breathlessly, turning to Octavia.
She nodded shakily, eyes wide, unable to form words. Jason winced, trying to straighten, but then felt her arms wrap around him tightly.
"Thank you," she whispered, over and over, trembling.
Jason froze for a heartbeat, then sighed and returned the embrace carefully, mindful of the torn state of her clothes and his own injuries. "What the hell were you doing out here? Have you lost your damn mind?" he asked, his tone half angry, half worried.
She didn't answer. Just looked away, guilt in her eyes.
Jason didn't push it. Instead, he moved back toward the fallen spear, crouching to retrieve it. But before he could say anything else, Octavia's eyes suddenly widened again, her expression twisting into fear.
"What is it—?" Jason started, then turned.
A sickly yellow fog crept along the forest floor, rolling toward them like a living thing. The air grew acrid with the smell of sulfur. His skin began to prickle.
"What the hell…" he muttered, his breath catching.
Then it hit him. A flicker of memory of the show, of the world he was now part of. His face shifted from confusion to sheer panic.
The acid fog.
"Oh, shit. We've got to move! Now!" he shouted.
The tingling turned to burning.
"It burns!" Octavia cried.
Jason's mind screamed run. He grabbed her hand, pulling her upright. She reached instinctively for her torn jumpsuit, but he yanked her away. "There's no time!"
They sprinted. The world turned into streaks of green and yellow as the fog hissed behind them, devouring everything in its path.
"The dropship—!" Jason started, but as he looked up, the metallic shell of their home vanished behind the creeping wall of toxic haze.
"Now what are we going to do?!" Octavia shouted, fear cracking her voice.
Jason spun, scanning desperately. Then he saw it. A dark fissure, half-hidden by roots and stone. "There!"
He didn't hesitate and immediately scooped Octavia into his arms and ran, ignoring the sting of acid on his exposed skin and bruised back. They dove into the narrow opening, the fog's hiss closing in behind them. Jason braced himself and shoved a loose boulder into the entrance just as the yellow mist swept past.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Jason exhaled shakily, sliding down to sit against the stone wall. The fissure was cramped and barely enough room for two people. The air was damp and close, but it was safe.
He closed his eyes for a second, trying to push down the sting of his wounds. 'Bellamy… Clarke… please tell me you made it.'
His mind flashed back to the river, the car they were able to hide in, in the show but the distance between the groups. If Jason remembered that part of the show, they'd have taken shelter by now.
He turned slightly toward Octavia, who sat beside him, knees to her chest, trembling but alive. Her gaze met his, and he saw how scared and uncertain she looked.
Jason sighed. "Now what…?" he murmured to himself.
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