Clarke led the way through the thick undergrowth, her hand tight around her pistol, guiding Lexa and her remaining guard toward a deep fissure in the rock face she had spotted earlier.
Behind them, the forest groaned. The sound of the Pauna's distant roars rattled their minds as they kept on looking back to see if it was coming at them, a frantic, enraged roar that seemed to be drawing closer.
Lexa stopped abruptly. She turned to her lone guard, her face a mask of absolute authority. "Go back," she commanded in a flat, unyielding tone. "Hold the line. Ensure the beast does not follow us to this position."
The guard didn't blink. He simply pressed a fist against his chest in a stiff salute. Lexa didn't wait to see the expression on his face, nor did she pause to hear Clarke's immediate gasp of horror. She simply turned and kept moving toward the rocky shelter.
"Lexa, wait!" Clarke hissed, rushing to catch up. "You just sent him on a suicide mission! He's one man against whatever that thing is!"
"I know what you are thinking, Clarke," Lexa replied, her gaze fixed ahead. "But you do not understand our ways. To die in service of the Heda is the highest honor he could achieve. It is his purpose. It is his job to be my shield."
They reached the heavy, reinforced metal door of an old mountain outpost, partially swallowed by vines. Clarke shoved it open, ushering Lexa inside before slamming it shut. Looking around frantically for a latch, she snatched Lexa's sword from its scabbard and wedged it tightly between the heavy iron handles, locking the door in place.
Breathing heavily, Clarke turned back to the Commander. "I'm still new to your culture, Lexa, but where I come from, we usually aren't supposed to leave anyone behind. Especially when death is certain."
"Then where you come from, your people live in a delusion," Lexa said smoothly, examining the dark, concrete room. "The sky boxes have kept you soft. Down here, we grow up knowing that the individual is nothing. The coalition, the clan, the legacy, that is everything. A warrior breathes so that the commander may lead."
A sudden, sharp crash echoed from the forest outside. They then heard the heavy footsteps of something massive begin to thud against the earth, rushing directly toward their position.
"It found us," Clarke whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs.
"Don't be afraid, Clarke," Lexa said, her voice entirely devoid of panic as she braced herself. "Death is not the end."
"We are not dying here!" Clarke snapped, her grip tightening on her gun. "Not when we are this close to working together. Besides who knows who the next Heda will be and if they will be willing to continue this alliance!"
Lexa looked at her, a faint trace of amusement in her eyes despite the danger. "Do not worry. If I fall, my spirit will find the next Commander. It will choose much more wisely next time."
"Your spirit?" Clarke blinked, momentarily distracted by the absurdity of the timing. "When you die, your spirit finds the next leader?"
"Yes. The Flame chooses."
"Reincarnation..." Clarke muttered. "That's how you became Commander. That's insane."
"How are your leaders chosen?" Lexa asked, but she never got an answer as the door groaned. Whatever was outside slammed against the steel, the wood splintering around the frame.
"Get ready to fight," Lexa commanded, her knuckles turning white as she prepared to use her bare hands. "It's coming in."
Clarke stared at the shaking door, an desperate idea flashing in her eyes. "Maybe we let it in. Come here!"
"What?"
"Help me!" Clarke grabbed the hilt of Lexa's sword, pulling with all her might to free the door. "Now!"
With a harsh screech of metal, Clarke ripped the sword out. The door flew open instantly, bursting inward under a sudden force.
Both women braced themselves, weapons raised, but instead of a giant furry monster charging through the threshold, a massive, heavy object came flying through the air. It bounced twice on the concrete floor before rolling to a stop right at Lexa's boots.
Their eyes widened in sheer, unadulterated shock.
It was the head of the Pauna. Its jaw was slack, its tongue lolling out, and its glowing eyes were permanently frozen in a state of absolute terror.
Clarke stared at the bloody mass, her voice dropping to a horrified whisper. "What... what is that?"
"The Pauna," Lexa breathed, her analytical mind completely short-circuiting as she stared at the decapitated titan.
"Man, I really, really hate monkeys," a familiar, exhausted voice muttered from the doorway.
Jason stepped into the bunker, leaning heavily against the doorframe. He was covered from head to toe in black blood and matted fur. His jacket was torn, his breathing was ragged, and he was dragging a severely notched, gore-stained blade behind him.
He looked down at the gorilla head, then up at the two stunned women. "Seriously, what is it with this planet and oversized wildlife? First the mutated deers, panthers and now George here decides to skip the jungle cruise and go full primal. I think I deserve a bonus for this. Or at least a hot shower."
He tapped the nose of the dead gorilla with the toe of his boot, letting out a dry, sarcastic chuckle. "So... I noticed I didn't get an invitation to your little bunker party. Am I interrupting something, or can a guy get a little appreciation over here?"
Clarke and Lexa just stared at him, completely speechless, as the "Butcher" casually wiped a smear of black blood off his cheek and offered them a tired, victorious grin.
———
Octavia sat on the edge of the medical cot, her ribs bandaged and her face a map of colorful bruises. The door creaked open, and Indra stepped into the dim light.
"What do you want?" Octavia asked, her voice defensive.
"You fought like a child today," Indra said, her voice like grinding stones. "All aggression, no thought. No defense. You leave yourself open, revealing your next move even before you strike. Tell me, did the Butcher not train you better than this?"
Octavia looked away, a bit of shame creeping into her expression. "Jason mostly taught me survival. How to hide, how to move without being seen, and how to end a fight before it starts."
"There is no excuse for such sloppiness," Indra replied, though her eyes softened almost imperceptibly. "Though, I suppose it is a blessing you do not move like him. To have one person among the Sky People who fights like a monster is a burden the world can barely carry. One Butcher is enough. If you were his shadow, the clans would have risen against you both long ago."
Octavia wiped a stray bead of sweat from her temple. "Okay, I know. I got my ass kicked. That should make you happy."
"It does," Indra said. "Because you did not give up. Strength of spirit like that is rare. It must be guided. Do you know what a warrior's second is?"
"An apprentice," Octavia answered.
"I can make you a great warrior, Octavia of the Sky People. If you're willing to do what it takes to become my second."
Octavia narrowed her eyes. "What's in it for you?"
"First lesson," Indra said, standing up to leave. "Never question me."
"Okay," Octavia breathed, her heart racing. "I'm in."
"Good. We start tomorrow."
———-
At the dropship, the air was thick with the scent of old ash and ozone. Jaha held out a piece of rationed bread toward Murphy.
"You sure? You must be hungry."
Murphy stared at the bread but didn't take it. "No one gives anything without expecting something in return."
"That's a cynical way to go through life, John."
"You pull me off work detail, you offer me food. Why are you being so nice to me?" Murphy asked, his eyes flickering toward the entrance where Jason usually stood guard. "Is this a play to get Jason on your side? Because if you think you can use me to get to him, you're dreaming."
"Everyone deserves a second chance," Jaha said. "That's why we sent the hundred to Earth."
"What a load of crap," Murphy spat. "You didn't give a damn about us. You still don't. That's why you're not fighting for those kids in Mount Weather. Jason's the only one actually moving pieces on the board while you sit here talking about 'destiny.'"
"I have to think of everyone," Jaha replied. "Sometimes you have to sacrifice the few to save the many. Good can come out of even the darkest acts."
"Tell that to the kids who didn't make it," Murphy countered. "Jason sacrificed his own peace of mind to keep us alive, and you still treat him like a curiosity. I was pardoned, slate wiped clean, and I'm still treated like dirt. Jason saved the whole camp, and half the people are still terrified of him."
"While you were floating people for stealing apples, he was making sure we didn't starve."
"There is a place for all of us, John," Jaha said. "I met a woman who spoke of a place beyond the dead zone City of Light."
"Sounds like a fairytale," Murphy scoffed.
"I'm going to find it, John. And once I do, I'm going to lead my people home."
——-
Near the tunnels of Mount Weather, the air grew foul. Lincoln froze, his eyes locking onto a small glass vial filled with a shimmering red liquid. He crushed it under his heel, his hand shaking.
"You okay?" Bellamy whispered.
"As soon as they open the intake doors, we attack," Lincoln rasped. "Once they close, I'll make it look like you escaped."
"Then what?"
"The raiding party." Lincoln stopped, his breathing becoming shallow. "We have to go back. It's the only way."
"Go back? No way!" Bellamy grabbed his arm. "We'll never get a better chance than this!"
"I thought I could do this, but I can't," Lincoln groaned.
"No!" Bellamy hissed, pulling him close. "Listen to me. When they bring out the Red, you grab it and run like hell. The Reapers will go nuts, and the Mountain Men will have to deal with the chaos. No one is looking for a Grounder running into the mountain."
Lincoln stared at him, then slowly pulled a sack over Bellamy's head. He dragged him toward the massive steel doors. "This one tried to wander off," Lincoln shouted to the looming guards.
"He's mine," a Reaper growled. "Put him on the log."
Back in Tondc, the evening was cooling. Jason sat on a stump, cleaning the black ichor from his boots. He looked up as Clarke approached.
"You know," Jason said, his tone deceptively light, "next time you want 'fresh air,' maybe check the weather report for 'mutated primate storms.' Between the Grounders who want your head on a spike and the gorillas who want you as a snack, your survival instincts are starting to worry me."
"I just needed a minute to think, Jason," Clarke sighed, sitting beside him.
Lexa approached them, her eyes fixed on Jason with a renewed sense of wariness. "I have seen many things, Butcher. But I do not understand how you overpowered the Pauna. Make me understand. How did you kill something that can kill a hundred men?"
Jason looked up, a sarcastic glint in his eyes. "Well, Heda, I asked it nicely to stop, but it seemed to have a hearing problem. So I figured, why not use the terrain? It turns out a thousand pounds of muscle doesn't mean much when you don't have tendons in your legs. Plus, I'm just naturally charming."
Lexa didn't smile. "Your strength is... unsettling."
"It's not strength, it's efficiency," Jason corrected. He looked at Clarke and then back to Lexa. "But while you were running, I was thinking. About the Mountain."
Jason laughed suddenly, shocking both women.
"What?" Clarke asked.
"The cage, Clarke," Jason said. "The one already in there, just waiting to be unlocked."
Clarke's eyes widened as the realization hit her like a physical blow. "The cage won't hold... Lexa, I think I know how to take Mount Weather. We've been trying to get inside, but they've already let us in."
"What are you talking about? We need to be able to get in with an army, not with whatever cheap trick you both might be planning " Lexa asked.
Jason chuckled, leaning back. "Your army is already there, Lexa. Locked in cages, being bled for their marrow. Hundreds of them. We don't need to break down the front door."
"We just need someone on the inside to let them out," Clarke finished.
"Bellamy?" Lexa asked. "You both have faith in him?"
"I do," Clarke said.
"He's a survivor," Jason added. "And he's got Lincoln. If he reaches those cells, the Mountain isn't a fortress anymore, its a powder keg."
"I hope your faith is well placed," Lexa said. "Because if he can't get inside, we can't win."
"He will," Clarke insisted, looking at Jason. "He has to."
"He'll do it," Jason said, his voice dropping into that cold, confident register. "And when he does, we're going to give those people a reason to fear the dark again."