Hello my friends, and welcome to my latest and greatest story Nothing Is True (Save For The Blood We've Shed)! As you obviously saw in the summary, this is a The 100 and Assassin's Creed crossover. There are, however, a few more points I want to address immediately.

First, this story is already finished. I have pre-written and typed the entire thing as of the moment you are reading this sentence. The content of the story will not be changing based on reviews, unlike my other stories. Though to be fair those don't change much either. (Actually, it's not as finished as I wanted it to be, but thanks to that episode in S3, I had to post it. I just had to! I am about 10 chapters ahead, so it won't ever be a 'dead' story.)

Second, I will still be responding to reviews in the author's notes at the beginning of each chapter.

Third, this story is going to be a bit AU (obviously) and some of the characters will be a bit OOC, given the fact that the story is AU and certain things haven't occurred yet. I.E. Costia hasn't died, and so Lexa won't be all "love is weakness" and shit. Still gonna be the cold and implacable Commander in public (most of the time) but in private she will be much more relaxed.

Fourth, the pairing for this story is Clarke/Lexa/Octavia/Raven/Harem pairing. I listed those three specifically right now for the sake of story organization and because naming those names won't ruin the plot. The others will be a surprise. However, you can make the assumption that if an actress was from the same age group as Clarke, or at least relatively close to it, and reasonably attractive, they might be involved to a greater or lesser degree. This does NOT mean everyone in the show is going to be paired with her. I will be reasonable. Furthermore, there is (much like what you will see in Mists of Avalon) going to be a solid plot basis for the harem, as opposed to simply excuses for gratuitous lesbian smut. Not to say the smut won't happen, but that isn't the point of the story.

Fifth, I added some things to the story thanks to what I find likely, such as the Grounders and Arkers being stronger/better/etc. than normal humans, thanks to exposure to radiation for generations. Clarke herself will be even more so later on in the story thanks to...certain elements from AC I am taking great liberties with.

Finally, the major Assassin's Creed elements may take a while to come in. This is very deliberate and various AC universe things being discovered or encountered is a vital, integral part of the story's plot progression. Up until that point, it will be relatively minor bits and pieces of AC lore.

As an aside, remember that I have a Facebook group, a blog, a forum page, a twitter, and various other places you can chat with me or watch for information about the stories. I am also going to start streaming a "State of the Fandom" address once a month on twitch, to let you guys know what's what. All of these links are on my profile, though you will need to tweak them a bit from the page to make them work. doesn't like foreign links.

Alright, that's it! Enjoy the hell outta this stuff, guys!

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Nothing Is True (Save For The Blood We Shed)

Chapter One

Firefall

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The air screamed and shuddered as a pillar of fire and smoke connected earth and sky for a few short moments before specially shaped charges roared, sending three parachutes rocketing into open air. They fluttered briefly like limp leaves on the summer wind, before they caught the air and blossomed, snapping to full size instantly.

Clarke Griffin, daughter to a murdered father and an absent mother, slammed forward in her shock harness with a grunt of exertion, hands clenched tightly on her armrests as the 100 year old drop-pod vibrated violently around her, the internal temperature skyrocketing as it brute-forced its way through Earth's atmosphere. She knew it was a miracle that the damn thing had launched at all, of course, and the fact that the heat shield was operational was even more incredible. Still, it wasn't over yet. She was approaching the ground fast...

Abruptly, the rising temperature began to drop as she entered the lower atmosphere, the parachutes finally managing to slow her descent from two hundred miles per hour to a 'gentle' forty in ten seconds, and she slammed into her harness once more, forehead striking the inside of her helmet sharply. A spike of pain went through her at the impact, but she ignored it as her eyes locked onto the ancient, cracked, but still functional altimeter, watching the numbers continue to plummet. Less than one hundred yards to go, now, and she prayed to God that she survived her impending 'landing' on mankind's birthplace.

Fifty yards. She checked that all of her gear was secured. The last thing she needed was anything flying around the cabin and hitting her on impact.

Thirty yards. She triple checked her harness, slapping each buckle and tugging on each strap. The harness was the only thing that would keep her from being broken into pieces like a handful of toothpicks, and it was no younger than anything else in this rust bucket.

Ten yards. She made one last, fleeting prayer for survival. She might not last ten minutes on the ground, but she wanted to reach it before she died, damnit!

Impact. A cacophony of sounds and tumbling, twisting, grinding, sliding. A barrage of movement and noise that overwhelmed her for a sheer moment before blackness consumed her without so much as a whimper.

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Commander's Hut

Ton D.C.

Ruins of Washington D.C.

Former United States of America

"Well, Indra?" Lexa, Heda of the Coalition of Tribes, asked of her top general and, though neither would admit it aloud, de-facto mother. When the now tall, athletic, and beautiful twenty-year-old brunette had been nothing more than a child, not yet even Anya's Second, her mother had been slain in a battle with the Ice Clan. With her father long since dead, spirited away by the Mountain Men to be bled like a pig, the future Heda had been left without a guiding hand.

That was when Indra had swept in, and implacable wave, deftly taking a bitter and resentful child firmly in hand and turning her into a mature, calculating, and extremely deadly young woman. Now, besides Anya (who had become the older sister Lexa had never had and often felt like she never wanted. She loved Anya, but damnit that woman was infuriating!), she was Lexa's top advisor and the current leader of the Tree Clan, whose capital village they were in at this very moment.

"The mounted scouts have departed, Heda, but it will be some time before they reach the place where the fire fell. Some one and one-half hours to reach it, then the actual scouting, and then returning. If they manage to return at all." The ebony-skinned warrior woman responded promptly, and Lexa bared her teeth in a frustrated grimace. There was nothing to be done, obviously. Unlike the Lost World, here and now one could only move as far and as fast as a horse or one's own two feet could carry oneself.

Which meant it could be anywhere from six to eight hours before she knew if there was a new threat to her people. Eight hours of ignorant vulnerability, and that infuriated her to no end. Yes, it may turn out to be nothing, and it isn't like it was eight days but if the Mountain Men had a new weapon, even a few minutes could mean all the difference in her people's continued survival.

"Very well, but double the patrols and put everyone on a higher readiness level. I have no wish for us to be caught flat-footed and helpless, vulnerable to either whatever fell from the sky or any actions that might result from it doing so." She commanded, and Indra nodded her understanding, not moving from her place. While most might have thought that a dismissal, Indra knew Lexa well enough to know there was more to be said.

"Such as the Mountain Men attacking or something equally unpleasant." Indra responded, and Lexa nodded tightly. The last thing they needed were those butchers attacking in force with the powerful weapons of the old world, especially not if the villagers and warriors were distracted by the fire-fall. The commander was silent for a long, long moment before speaking again, voice contemplative.

"Perhaps it is the First Sign?" she mused, half to herself and half to Indra, and the general looked at her sharply, eyebrows raising enough to show her suprise and disbelief.

"You are referring to the Prophecy of the Sky?" she asked, skepticism bleeding into her voice noticeably, and Lexa frowned at her slightly in disapproval.

She knew her mother-figure placed no stock whatsoever in the tales of the Chosen Few, some 10,000 individuals chosen to live in the place above the sky, up in 'space', before the Old World had destroyed itself with the global nuclear war that had annihilated most of humanity and left their homeworld a radioactively poisoned wilderness. The Prophecy foretold that they would return to rebuild a new world from the ashes of the old. They would be lead by The One Who Is Promised, a great warrior and leader of men descended from the First Ones (whomever they were). It was also said that The One would claim the Commander and the most worthy warriors of their generation as their wives, and rule the new world beside them.

"I am. I know that you are skeptical, Indra, but I have always believed that The One Who Is Promised would come and show us, at long last, the way to peace and plenty. This, the soul of the Heda, the soul of my forebearers, tells me." She responded firmly, her tone making it clear that she had no interest whatsoever in arguing on the subject at that moment in time.

"Well, we won't know either way for several more hours, if that. Regardless, I'll pass along your orders to the patrol captains." Indra said, inclining her head in a slight bow before sweeping from the throne room, leaving the Commander alone with her thoughts, her hopes, and her fears.

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Drop Pod Impact Site

Twenty Five Miles From Washington DC

Clarke moaned in pain, hand going instinctively to clutch her inured forehead, before bouncing off the faceplate of her too-large space suit. Naturally, the gesture didn't do a damn thing but make a loud thunking sound and shift her helmet awkwardly.

Pushing the pain aside again, she quickly stood, automatically running through a physical and mental checklist as she tested her limbs and joints for breaks or sprains, and her internal feelings for any sign of a concussion.

Satisfied that her body was in working order, she turned to the control console before her. Taking a deep, steadying breath, the punch the button that would activate a series of small shaped charges to blow the canopy clear. When nothing happened, she growled in frustration and twisted the small override knob below it before hitting it again. This time the charges fired, though more than a few were far less controlled than they would have been otherwisee.

Clambering out of the mostly-intact drop-pod, Clarke took hardly a moment to appreciate the wild, untouched beauty of nature around her before turning her focus onto the next task. A task that could end her journey, and her life, before she took more than a handful of steps. Removing her helmet and inhaling the air of mankind's cradle.

Slowly, her hands rose to pop the large, ungainly helmet's seals, and she slowly pulled it free, shaking her blond hair loose. Bracing herself, Clarke took a deep breath, and almost immediately collapsed to her knees. But it was not poisonous air or radiation that laid her low, no. There was no death in this air. Quite the opposite, in fact.

The air was filled with a barrage of scents and sounds, and she could almost taste the life of it all on her tongue. Her heart pounded, her mind raced, and her breath came in harsh, rapid pants as she scrabbled desperately to keep hold of stability and reality. For someone who, like her, was born and raised in a sterile environment, where the only sounds and smells of life came from other human beings, the overwhelming strength and variety here on the ground was threatening to drive her insane. Her normal method of helping herself calm down, taking deep breaths, was only exacerbating the problem, and blackness began to creep into her vision as her overwhelmed mind tried to shutdown out of self-preservation.

NO! She couldn't-wouldn't- allow herself to fall apart, not now. She would be failing her father, her friends, her entire race, if she gave up now. Her fingers dug groves in the ground as she struggled with herself, forcing the darkness back.

With a snarl of stubborn refusal to yield, she forced herself to her feet and begun the slow and laborious process of shedding her spacesuit, starting with the large and ungainly gloves. Seven minutes later, the cumbersome suit finally hit the ground, and Clarke took a moment to stretch like a satisfied cat, her long sleeved shirt and short-sleeved undershirt riding up to expose a toned and muscular midriff. Taking only a moment to bask in the warm light of the sun as it filtered through breaks in the canopy her landing had created, she spun on her heel and clambered back inside the pod for her gear.

First, she strapped on the bullet- and blade-proof body armour that she had received from Ark Security at her mother's...'request'. Though hot and heavy to wear over her jeans and shirt, it would protect her from anything (or anyone) that might have survived The Final War. Not to mention help her be more capable of surviving such unfortunate things as falls, trips, and other impacts of the bone-breaking nature.

Many who had known of the plan to send Clarke 'as a preliminary scout for humanity's triumphant return to Earth' had scoffed at the idea of anyone and anything surviving a global, worldwide nuclear war. Fortunately, more cautious heads had prevailed, she reflected almost happily as she settled the sheath of her eighteen inch parang-style machete at the small of her back. The long bladed weapon, made for tasks such as cutting through the foliage and vegetation she was sure to encounter, chopping firewood for warmth, and even skinning any animals she might have to hunt, had been forged from a lightweight titanium alloy and was far sharper than any mere whetstone could have ever dreamed of making it, thanks to the machining department.

After buckling her utility belt, which contained such essentials she needed to have on hand (compass, map, and the like) she carefully retrieved a worn, scuffed leather thigh holster. It, like the Smith and Wesson .500 Magnum it held, was a family heirloom. Once gifted to her great-great-grandmother for her leadership, valour, and heroism under fire during the Radicalist Wars of the early two-thousands. It had been passed down ever since, still as functional and overwhelmingly deadly as it was all those years ago. Now, it was to be her long-range defense against any threat that might prove to powerful or to great for her to evade or kill with her machete. Strapping it into it's proper place , she picked up her equipment-filled hiker's backpack and slung it on, clipping the waist and chest stabilizers into place with a chorus of soft clicks, rotating her hips from side to side for a minute to settle it properly.

"Alright Clarke, time to move it out." She told herself firmly, though quietly, as she stepped out of the drop-pod and pulled out her map, compass, and GPS unit. While the unit was small, and an enormous number of satellites had been destroyed during the war, several hundred had managed to survive unscathed, allowing both her to track her location. While the portable unit was also rechargeable, the batteries would deteriorate eventually, and she didn't want to waste them. Turning the unit on, she quickly found her position on the map, found her objective, and shut it off again, tucking it away in its holster on her belt. "Well that just fucking figures, doesn't it? They couldn't just drop me in the wrong place, oh no, they had to drop me twenty fucking miles from Mount Weather. I realize that orbital drops aren't exactly the most accurate of things, especially if you've never done one, but come on!"

Orienting herself in the proper direction, the blonde sixteen year old set off through the woods towards her goal, the massive military base, fallout shelters, and supply caches safely secured beneath Mount Weather. Her only hope for communicating with the Ark and surviving long enough for them to join her on the ground and reestablish civilization.

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Control Center

The Ark

250 mile geosynchronous orbit over Washington D.C.

"I'm sure that Clarke will be fine, Abby. " spoke Thelonius Jaha, Chancellor of the Ark and someone she had once thought of as family. "She is strong, dedicated, and as well trained and equipped as we could have been able to make her.

The tall and beautiful brunette Chief Medical Officer gaped at the slightly taller African American Chancellor, her expression a twist of confusion at the sheer temerity he had to say something like that after threatening to have her locked away in a tiny cell until he could have her killed.

"How dare you, how dare you pretend to have any sort of care or interest in her well-being whatsoever! You have no right!" she hissed furiously, brown eyes filled with burning rage. Despite her anger, however, she was at least able to keep her voice down, well aware and wary of the numerous others in the room. It would do neither the staff or the people at large to see and hear a member of the Council arguing with the Chancellor.

"I have every right, and I don't need to 'pretend' to care about Clarke. I think of her as..." he rebutted calmly, but Abby seemed to swell with indignation as her eyes flashed dangerously.

"You had better not finish that sentence, Jaha! You lost any right of affection towards my daughter when you murdered her father and threatened to do the same thing to her for trying to be loyal to his memory!" she snarled, and Jaha sneered slightly in response, though he worded his next salvo carefully. Chancellor he may be, but only an idiot or a suicidal person pushed a member of the Griffin family to far. Much like their mythical namesake, the Griffin family was proud, strong, and pure-hearted. They were also incredibly dangerous when their anger was roused, and they never forgot when someone wronged them or their family. Not to mention that, again like their namesake, the females of the species were particularly vindictive and dangerous.

"Lest you forget, Abigail, it was you who betrayed your husband to Marcus and myself and got him killed." His voice was careful even, and he allowed none of the savage satisfaction he felt to show on his face, ashamed of his own words and emotional reaction to her pain, and knowing that any further words or expressions of pleasure or satisfaction would ruin any chance he might possess of reconciliation, slim though it might be.

"A regret that I shall take to my grave. The regret of trusting you to try and save your best friend's life instead of killing him for a popularity boost. You did not even try to convince him to change his mind, Jaha, and don't think I'm not aware of that fact." She retorted as coldly as she possibly could manage, and a small, cruel smirk played across her lips as that particular salvo slammed home, the Chancellor turning away with pursed lips and an interminable flinch. Turning on her heel, she swept from the room with her long white doctor's coat billowing rather dramatically.

"Keep a close eye on her and the Blake girl, Kane. Reyes and Fox's little group too, for that matter." Jaha ordered the Head of Security, and the tall, moderately muscular man named Marcus Kane nodded silently before withdrawing. With no one in earshot, he felt safe enough to continue, almost whispering. "And may the Father of Understanding guide us home at last."

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Octavia Blake stared listlessly out the window of the small room she shared with her older brother, Bellamy. The olive-skinned, hazel-eyed brunette was widely considered one of the most beautiful girl's in her age group, the only person considered to be her true superior in looks being one Clarke Griffin. Like the blonde, the sixteen year-old girl had long hair, a slim and fairly athletic build, a modest chest, and an overwhelming tendency to do things her own way, damned whatever anyone else has to say.

"Clarke..." she murmured softly, her train of thought halting as she thought of her best friend, savior, and sort-of-secret-crush. Her heart clenched as she remembered watching the 'accidentally launched' drop-pod hurtling towards Earth in a streak of flame, taking the other girl to almost certain death. She knew that Clarke was no pushover, a strong and unwavering young woman that was iin good shape and well trained, but she knew that no matter how well trained or healthy one was, burning up in the atmosphere or dying of radiation on the ground made those traits irrelevant. Sure, she knwe the theory that, since the Arkers had been adjusted to survive in space without any kind of ill effects, either from the lower gravity or the space radiation, Clarke and indeed all humans would survive just fine on Earth.

She wasn't comforted.

She thought back to how this had all started, how she had been pulled into Clarke's orbit become a part of her crushes life. Indeed, it was the same day, and the method in which, her crush on the charismatic blond medic had begun. The day of the Unity Dance ...

Flashback Begins

"What's someone as pretty as you doing hiding over here in the corner? The boys annoying you?" Octavia yelped softly and twitched violently at the soft voice that had come from the blonde girl that had somehow managed to get almost right next to her without her noticing. True, her attention had been on the writhing dance floor, the heavy bass pounding and throbbing through her very bones. Thanks to the masks they were all wearing, the only things about the older girl is that she was blond, had blue eyes, an incredible figure, and...yeah, that was it.

"Ah, oh, um..." she stuttered, desperately trying to formulate some manner of coherent response without giving herself and her secret away to a total stranger. While the boys were annoying her, she preferred to lurk in the shadows. She didn't wanna chance someone realizing they didn't recognize her or, worse, accidentally knocking her mask off and revealing her decidedly un-recognized self to the entire room. "Yeah, something like that at any rate. Not the biggest fan of boys, really. Loud, smelly, childish, and entirely too interested in my tits and ass."

"I can see why..." the blonde gave her a wicked smirk that made her blush brightly as she was admired, Oddly, she didn't feel nearly as dirty or violated as she had when boys had been doing it. Instead, she felt...excited. Thrilled even. Of course, she attributed some of that to the fact that the blonde was being friendly and funny while checking her out, instead of just ogling her like a slab of meet on display. "My name's Clarke, what's yours?"

"Octavia. My name is Octavia." She responded, glad that the other girl had ommitted her last name first, allowing her to do the same without seeming suspicious or rude.

"Octavia..." her stomach seemed to flutter at the the way Clarke said her name, the word rolling around on her tongue as if she was savoring a treat. Clarke smiled warmly at her, making her flush slightly, before continuing. "Wife of a legendary general, sister of the first Emperor of the Roman Empire. An old name. A strong name, one filled with a rich history."

"Thanks, I guess...?" Octavia mumbled, not quite getting it, but glad Clarke seemed to like it. Why she cared was beyond her, but quite frankly she had felt more alive, more human, in the last ten minutes than in the last ten years.

"You're so very welcome, Octavia." Clarke said cheerfully, coming over to lean against the wall beside her and slinging an arm around her shoulders with relaxed ease. "So, you're not a big fan of boys? Can't say that I blame you too much, at this age most of them are idiots that I want to make bleed a bit."

At Octavia's chocked, almost horrified, expression, Clarke laughed softly and shook her head, blonde hair swirling around her masked face, and Octavia found she rather like the sound of her new friend's merriment.

"No, I wouldn't really hurt them badly. I'm not nearly as insane as I sound, I don't go around attacking people without a good reason." She waved one hand in a brushing-off gesture. "Anyway, they seemed to think that since this is a dance and a masquerade, they could get handsy with me and get off scot-free. Idiots."

Octavia laughed in amused understanding and agreement, shaking her own head slightly. Time passed quickly as they got to know one another. Clarke even introduced her to some of her friends, two girls and three boys named Fox, Raven, Finn, Jasper, and Monty. Although, to be honest, Finn seemed more like a hanger on to the group, even to Raven, who was supposedly his girl friend. A barely tolerated hanger on at that, from the way they seemed to be acting around him. Polite, but in a frigid, ultra-formal way, one that seemed to preclude any sort of true emotional connection.

The party was nearing it's end, something Octavia dreaded as she knew the chances of her seeing Clarke, or any of her other new friends again. No, she would be forced to return to her existence (one couldn't even call it a life) inside a hole in the floor, praying that she was never found and be killed for the crime of simply existing. It was then that a massive, mingled disaster and blessing struck. A massive solar flare had sent the station's systems haywire, and security had been ordered to escort everyone home for safety. The situation had deteriorated rapidly, leading to Bellamy and herself being outed as siblings, and their mother as a grievous law-breaker.

Octavia had been dragged before the Council not minutes after they had floated her mother right in front of her eyes, and was forced to sit and listen as they plotted how to lock her away once more until she was old enough for them to float. Some had even argued to float her now, as if any of this was her fault, but Councilor Griffin had rallied to her defense savagely, something she appreciated.

It was then when Clarke had stormed into the room, visage consumed by anger and contempt.

"Pathetic, the lot of you. Sitting here discussing ever so casually locking away a girl until you can murder her simply for being born, as if it were any fault of her own! I thought this Council was supposed to stand for Truth, Justice, and the Law?" she had said, almost spitting in contempt as she moved to stand behind Octavia who, though shocked, took solace in her presence and support.

"Councilwomen Griffin, control your daughter!" the Councillor had growled out at the woman who had stood up for her, and Octavia gasped softly as she realized that Clarke the Blonde was Clarke Griffin. The same Clarke Griffin her brother had told her about. Her father had been floated recently, for what no one knew, and she had been on virtual house arrest ever since.

"No one controls Clarke except Clarke, Thelonius. If you haven't figured that out after all these years, I despair for the future of Humanity. Never mind the fact that I agree with her entirely." The elder Griffin sniffed in amusement, and Octavia had to silently agree. Though she barely knew her, she knew that Clarke was no wilting wall-flower.

"I'm going to make things as utterly, totally simple as possible. Even for people as incompetent as you lot. You will leave Octavia and her brother alone. No sanctions, no house arrest, nothing. Their mother has already paid the price for the crime, if we can even call it that. Making them suffer beyond that for such things as being born and protecting his sister, his family, is beyond inhumane and unreasonable." Clarke rejoined, folding her arms across her chest. "Even if basic human decency doesn't appeal to you, the people will appreciate that you won't punish them for someone else's crime...often."

The immense bite in that last word caught Octavia off-guard, and she watched with wide eyes the Council flinch or grimaced, several even looked deeply ashamed of themselves.

"Very well. Bellamy and Octavia Blade will not be imprisoned or otherwise punished for their mother's actions. However, any further law-breaking will be harshly punished." The Chancellor finally acquiesced, albeit very grudgingly. Clarke simply smirked victoriously and guided Octavia from the room.

Flashback Ends

After saving her, Clarke had quietly told her why her father had been executed, and why she had been put on house arrest. Not to mention why she could get away with talking to the Council the way that she had.

The Ark was dying. After nearly a century of constant use without fresh supplies or materials from Earth, it was falling apart at the seams. Clarke's father had estimated that the Ark had less than two years before the system began to suffer widespread, cascading catastrophic failures across its primary systems, most grievously in the oxygen systems.

Mr. Griffin had wanted to warn the people, to get the whole of the Ark working together to on solutions. Instead, he had been caught and executed by his so-called best friend. Clarke had tried to carry on his mission, only to be similarly caught. The Council had intended to imprison her until she was old enough to be floated.

Somehow (and Clarke had never fully explained), they had instead decided to train her for a year in wilderness survival and basic combat, before loading her up into an old and rickety drop-pod and sending her to Earth, to see if it was survivable.

Thus, today, she had watched Clarke sent away in a ball of flame. Unable to do a single damn thing to help her saviour except watch and cry. True, she had the utmost faith in Clarke, and knew she had the best supplies and training to help her survive (if doing so was even remotely possible), but Clarke was still alone in a totally new reality. A literal new world.

"We'll see each other again, Clarke. Just make sure it's on this side of Saint Peter." She murmured aloud, before going over to the compartment in the floor that used to be her whole world, extracting a thick book entitled "Complete Krav Maga" and thumbing open the worn pages. Clarke had managed to give her the numerous books she had been taught from, and she was resolved to master everything within each of them. She didn't know when or how she would join her best friend on Earth, but she would not be a burden when they were together again.

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Location: Unknown

Earth

"She is here at last. The heir of all we have tried to accomplish for so many centuries. The result of every success and failure."

"But which shall prove the influential factor? Success or failure? Victory, or defeat?"

"Only time will tell. She will be with us soon enough."

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And that, as they say, is that! Please make sure to leave a review, which will be responded too at the beginning of the next chapter. While the story content itself is done, I will still be interacting through ANs and such things with you guys! See you next time!