It all started at the end. There was fire, explosions, and death. Radiation soaked the earth, and killed everyone that had survived the blasts. There were no reminders of who sent that first bomb; it just escalated into the end of all things. There were some, however, who got out before the radiation became too much. There were survivors from several nations, in several different space stations that would eventually become one giant station called the Ark. For two generations, humanity lived on in their palace in the stars. They adjusted to their new lives, teaching their children of the ground and continuing to count down the days until it was estimated that the ground would be inhabitable once again.

There were limited supplies on the Ark, limited space, and limited oxygen. That was why over time, rules were put into place by the make-shift government system known as the council. One of those rules was that no woman was allowed to have more than one child. The other was that any crime aboard the ark committed by an adult was punishable by death, no matter how small. Minors were kept in lock-up until the day they turned eighteen, the day in which they would face judgment.

Stiles Stilinski was counting down the sunsets until the day he turned eighteen. If the tally on his wall was correct, there were two more days until he was of age. It scared him a little, but he was ready. Sort of. He told himself repeatedly that he was ready, he had to be. It was not like he had much of a choice. The teen closed his eyes with a heavy sigh before opening them again to look up to the large window that made up the ceiling of his cell. At least there was that. Only the top level cells had those windows, though Stiles knew the others had a small, side window to look out of. Things could be worse, he guessed.

Of course, he almost immediately regretted having that thought when there was a sudden sound of clanging and multiple voices outside. Stiles sat up, his brow furrowing as he watched the door, trying to figure out what was going on. Maybe someone was turning eighteen that day.

When his door opened, Stiles was immediately on his feet, taking a few stumbled steps backward. "Dad?" Stiles questioned when he realized just who was walking into the room. He was not allowed to see his father, the station's sheriff and one of the lead councilmen.

"Stiles," Linden Stilinski breathed out as he took his son's face in his hands, seemingly checking him over. "Come on."

Linden's hand brushed over his son's head before he started to lead the teen toward the door, making his eyes widen with an inaudible gasp. "What? No! Dad, I'm not eighteen yet!" Stiles protested, though he continued to follow his father without too much struggle. It was his father, after all.

Linden shook his head as they stepped out onto the landing outside of Stiles' door, and the teen gasped slightly again when he caught sight of all one hundred of the cell doors open. "You're not being floated, Stiles," Linden stated, causing his teenaged son to look over at him. He smiled weakly, not letting his eyes dart to the guard standing behind Stiles, ready to administer the sedative all the one hundred in lockup were getting. "You're going to the ground, Stiles. Earth."

Stiles opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, there was a slight pinch in his arm. The sedative worked fast, faster than Stiles cared to think about when he could, and he was unconscious in his father's arms in a matter of moments.


When Stiles came to, he started, which caused the harness around him to tug unpleasantly. The entire cabin was shaking as it descended rapidly toward the ground. "Damn, I knew you could sleep through anything, but this is something else!" Stiles heard from his left, making him quickly look over to see his best friend sitting there with a dopey smile on his face.

"Scott?" questioned Stiles, his brow furrowing before a small smile formed on his face. He was more than glad to see the other teen again. When he'd been locked up, he'd never thought it would happen. "Wait, what're you doing here?" Stiles looked around himself to see several of the one hundred teenagers that had been locked up. There were a few familiar faces (such as Erica Reyes, Vernon Boyd, and Isaac Lahey; also known as the Terrors), and some not so familiar faces.

Scott shrugged as best he could in the harness he was in. "I might have gotten caught breaking into a restricted area a few weeks after you got locked up," he replied, grinning over at Stiles. "Just maybe."

"You shouldn't have done that, Scott," Stiles said with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something else, but his attention was pulled to a small screen in the corner of the room when it flickered to life. There on the screen sat Christopher Argent, the ambassador of the Ark. "Hello," he said, voice garbled slightly from the roughness of their decent which messed with the signal, "you know who I am, but not why you are here. You are the one hundred souls who have been in lockup and you have been volunteered for this mission to benefit us all, a mission to prove whether or not Earth is ready for all of us, for the Ark to return home. We are thankful for your service, and wish you well. Resources are being dropped for you as well; both you and the pack will make your landing on Mt. Weather. Y-"

A large jolt to the ship they were in cut out the transmission completely and caused some people to scream. Stiles' breaths came in quick, terrified pants as the room darkened and lightened with the flickering of the lights and screens. There was a terrible sound unlike anything Stiles had ever heard before and he swore he saw some equipment fall onto some of the teenagers around him.

Then, all at once, everything stopped.

It seemed an eternity later that Stiles released a breath he had not even realized that he was holding, and he unbuckled his harness. "Stiles, what're you doing?" Scott hissed, quickly unbuckling as Stiles stood up.

Someone in the ship turned on one of the lanterns as everyone started to unbuckle themselves, getting up out of their seats. "These two are dead!" someone called from a seat behind where Stiles had sat.

The crash claimed three lives, but that seemed such a small number compared to what it could have been. "What're you doing?" Stiles called out over the slight din of voices when he noticed two figures heading toward the hatch that stood between them and the outside. They still had not taken any reads; they had no idea what the oxygen was like out there. "You can't open that door!"

The young man standing there simply raised an eyebrow at Stiles before scoffing. "If the air's that toxic, we're dead anyway," the guy said before he opened the door. Everyone flinched at the sudden brightness that entered the previously dark ship.

It seemed all at once, everyone started to shuffle toward the exit, slowly filtering out into the sunlight. There were cheers and screams of joy from everyone around him, though Stiles remained standing at the edge of the walkway the opened door created. He took a slow, deep breath of the air, a faint smile tugging on his lips. His mother would have loved to be there. "Derek!" Stiles heard someone call, causing him to look up and see what added to the commotion before a petite brunette girl flung herself at the guy that had opened the door to begin with.

The guy, Derek, grinned as he picked her up in a hug before setting her back on the ground. "You're okay!" Derek stated, checking the girl over for any obvious signs of injury. "I missed you Cora."

Stiles stood there, watching as friends reconnected all around him, smiling and laughing. He wanted to join in the celebrations, but he did not feel up to it. Instead, Stiles' gaze lifted up to the bright blue sky as he finally took that last step onto the ground. The air was so much heavier than he was used to, and he simply felt heavier than he was used to. Gravity did that, according to what he had read. "We need to figure out where we are," Stiles mumbled mostly to himself as he walked, turning a circle to see the trees surrounding them.

"I agree," said a girl behind him, making Stiles spin around quickly to face her only to frown when he found Allison Argent standing there. Her curly hair was tied back in a messy bun and a few tendrils fell into her face, though she tried to tuck them behind her ears. She wore an expression of tactical thinking, and all Stiles could do was frown at the mere sight of her.

His jaw clenched and he flexed his fingers a few times. "I'll figure it later," Stiles finally said before walking toward the wave of teenagers spreading out from where they landed, exploring the Earth around them.

As Stiles got farther away from Allison, the better he felt and a smile slowly formed on his face again. He walked slowly through the trees, stilling several minutes later in a clearing in order to stop and look around him again as he took in various signs of life. There were still animals living there; birds, butterflies, and Stiles swore he saw what was a rabbit. He laughed softly, running his fingers through his unruly hair. "Amazing, isn't it?" asked someone else as they entered the clearing. Even though Stiles had never officially met the guy, he knew it was Derek just from the voice.

"It's... yeah, amazing," Stiles replied with a slow nod as he looked to Derek, resting his hands on the back of his head, fingers laced together. "It's habitable. Do you know what this means?"

"It means the adults will soon be following." Derek seemed to frown and tense at that thought, something Stiles purposely ignored. It was none of his business after all. "I think we landed in the wrong place."

"Yeah." Stiles nodded absentmindedly a few times, dropping his hands to his sides. "We'll figure it out later. Right now, I just want to look."

Derek nodded a little as the two of them continued walking toward what sounded like a stream. "How will we figure out where we are?" Derek questioned after a few moments of silence.

Stiles scoffed at that, smirking over at Derek. "Haven't you heard? I'm the master of maps."

There was hardly a situation or place that Stiles could not get himself out of. He could read maps of all kinds, including those from the ground. He knew all sorts of hidden spaces and often seemed to just find them. He could pick locks and too often was found in places he was not supposed to be. It was part of why he was locked up in the first place. "Stiles!" Scott called as he came rushing over to his friend's side, breathing heavily. "Come quick. They're already fighting!"

Stiles frowned but nodded as he followed Scott back in the direction they had come from without so much as sparing Derek a glance. After all, the guy was a stranger to him. Scott had lived next door to him his entire life. "Hey, hey stop it!" Stiles cried when he came upon a circle of people surrounding two guys who were in a fist fight over some unknown reason. Stiles pushed his way between the two, shoving each one off in opposite directions. "Enough. We don't have time for this. We're all down here together, and we're all in the situation. We've got to work together to get to the supplies."

"Or you could go get it for us," someone said above the other voices. Stiles was unsurprised to see Jackson Whittemore standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face. What did surprise him, though, was the fact that Derek seemed to be standing near the group of guys that were following Jackson, along with the girl from earlier. She seemed more interested in continuing to look around her than whatever was going on.

Stiles rose his brow at that, glancing over to Scott and Isaac, who quietly came up behind him. "Yeah, okay. I'll just do that and leave you here without the supplies. Great idea." Stiles continued smirking, even as Jackson came over and grabbed the front of his shirt with gritted teeth.

"You'll bring it back here."

"Or what?"

Jackson lifted an arm, and Stiles flinched in preparation for the punch to the face he knew he was going to get, only to stumble back when there was a firm hand pressed to his chest. He looked to see that Allison had shoved the two of them apart with a glare of her own. "Knock it off, both of you. As you said, Stiles, we don't have time for this," she insisted, nodding a little. "We're without any assistance beyond that stupid pack. Let's all go get it and come back."

"It's at least a few days' hike," Lydia stated from where she stood leaning against a tree, examining her recently polished nails. "Some of us should stay here, actually establish a camp."

Stiles sighed and ran a hand over his face, frowning slightly. He hated to admit that she was right; but, she was. They did need a place to set up as a base. The hull of the ship was as good as any and would provide shelter from any storms that may occur. "Yeah, alright, whatever. Anyone who wants to help get supplies can gather at the tree line in an hour," Stiles instructed, knowing he would need a little time to look over the maps that they had in the ship. What surprised him, though, was the fact that some people actually seemed to listen to him. Others just rolled their eyes and walked off to do other things.

"I'll go with you," Allison said quietly as she walked over to where Stiles had wandered off to.

He nodded tensely but said nothing else, not even looking at her as he walked over to the drop ship so that he could grab the maps. He missed the saddened expression on allison's face, and the way that Scott gently squeezed her hand with a reassuring smile. At that moment, though, his personal issues were the farthest thing from his mind. The only thing that Stiles was worried about was how would the world change after dark.