Tiberius' horse lurched back and threw him from the saddle as the earth trembled beneath them. He landed hard on the rocky ground and lifted an arm to brace against the sudden rush of heat singeing his face. The Ark's detonation had erupted in a thunderous, deafening explosion that burned through the air, drawing the breath from his lungs. Shards of debris dropped from the sky, raining down on what remained of his men, crushing some where they stood.
He gasped for air, his lungs seizing from the smoke and heat, and staggered to his feet. "N-No!" He gaped at the burning remains of Arkadia and stepped towards it, ignoring the last remnants of metal shrapnel crashing near his feet. He heard the screaming and frantic commotion of his men behind him, scrambling to offer aid to their fallen brethren. A fiery rage churned in his chest, his breath quickened against his already flushed face. His jaw grew taut, his fists clenched.
How many of my men were inside? Too many... they were clearing out the compound, they were looking for her when... Damnit! Damn that bitch and her trap... I have to reach A.L.I.E.'s mansion before I lose too many men, before our numbers die off-
"My lord," a young warrior beside him uttered, his voice trembling. When Tiberius turned to look at him, he noticed how pallid and sickly he looked. Most of his warriors looked like this now, with damp, feverish brows and slick, ashen cheeks. The radiation had taken its toll on them, even the strongest were struggling now. They were weak and deserved to die, but not until Tiberius was done with them. And he wasn't through with them, not yet. "You're b-bleeding, my lord."
Tiberius lifted his fingers to the warmth trailing down his nostril and drew it back: black blood. He wiped the blood onto his fur jacket and pulled a cloth from his pocket to cover his nose, pinching at the bridge to slow the bleeding. He turned a wary eye to the sickly boy. "Gather what men we have left. And if I hear you say anything about this," he gestured with his blackened fingertips, "I'll slit your throat. Do you understand?"
"Y-yes, my lord," the boy stammered and turned to sprint down the length of the field to rejoin the remaining warriors.
Tiberius returned his gaze to the remains of Arkadia, now engulfed in a roar of flames. Smoke billowed into the air, darkening the mid-morning sky. A black raven emerged through the thick veil, its wingspan beating against the plumes of black, acrid smoke. Tiberius reached out an arm for the raven to descent upon. He brought the blackened, bloody cloth away from his face to untie the note fastened to the bird's leg. He read the words scrawled across the thin strip of paper and shook the bird from his arm, sending it away again. Crumbling the paper, he threw it to the ground and spat a thick, black wad of blood at it.
"Mount up!" Tiberius barked, turning to the small contingent of remaining warriors across the field. He strode towards his horse and clasped onto the reins. Wiping the last smear of black blood from his nose, he hoisted himself back onto the saddle and tugged the horse's head towards his men. "The war isn't over yet!"
It was midday by the time the tugboat reached the shores of the island. Octavia was the first to step onto the dock to secure the boat, her gaze often turning to inspect the distant treeline where they'd emerged before, exhausted from their escape of the grounder ambush. Clarke watched the hardness in her face and caught a glimpse of worry in her eyes, of fear that they'd been followed. Their eyes locked in a lingering, knowing gaze that sent a shiver of dread down Clarke's spine. Octavia knew, and maybe everyone on that boat, silent against the sounds of wind and crashing waves, understood it as well.
If Tiberius follows us here, if he finds the server room and gains access to the Sanctuary... it's over.
"A little help with this shit?" Octavia growled through clenched jaws. She hoisted a heavy bin of loaded ammo magazines and took one step onto the island's dock, balancing herself between the sway of the water moving the tugboat. Bellamy dropped a sack of food rations onto the beach and rushed back to offer a hand, passing Raven and Clarke along the way as they carried spare rifles up the dock.
Clarke heard a sniffle beside her and glanced over to see Raven brush a fallen tear from her chin. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, and her limp intensified the further they strode up the grassy field. The hours of hard riding and rough travel had left Raven wincing with each step.
"I can't-" Raven choked and covered her mouth with the palm of her hand, tears now trailed down her cheeks.
"Hey," Clarke reached out and placed a hand on Raven's shoulder, slowing her to stop in the middle of the field. "We can take a break if you need to rest your-"
"-It isn't my leg," she sounded almost annoyed as she wiped her cheeks. She lifted her gaze to the sky. "We lost them, Clarke. The ambush... everyone..." she shook her head. "We left them to die..."
Clarke dropped her gaze to the grass beneath her boots. She remembered the piercing screams, the kickback of her pistol when she took down an approaching grounder, the panicked look in Kane's eyes as he ushered them to escape and how they deadened when the arrow pierced his chest. She suppressed the hot tears stinging her eyes and reached out to pull Raven into a tight embrace. Raven wrapped her arms around Clarke's waist and sobbed into her shoulder.
"It's gonna be okay…" Clarke blinked the tears from her eyes and rubbed Raven's back. "I promise. They're waiting for us in the Sanctuary, they're safe." She felt Raven nod against her shoulder. "But it's our job to make sure that they stay safe. If Tiberius reaches the server room…" Clarke pulled back and looked into Raven's eyes, bloodshot and filled with tears. "… than we would have failed them, and we can't let that happen."
Raven held her gaze and brushed the heel of her palm against her eyes, pushing away the last of her tears. She nodded and took a deep breath before turning to continue towards the mansion. "Your girlfriend better've programmed that place so that I can get mind-numbingly drunk after this bullshit is over."
"I'm right there with ya," Clarke smiled and adjusted the rifle and bag hanging from her shoulder. She lifted her eyes and noticed a black raven glide across the sky and disappear into a nearby cluster of treetops.
Raven stood guard at the top of the stairs, her loaded rifle slung over her shoulder, as Clarke descended the server room stairway. She hurried down the steps and paused at the bottom to observe the complex network of consoles and server towers. She shuddered remembering the last time she'd visited the cellar, recalling the chill of the grounder's knife against her throat. They would've been killed if it wasn't for-
Lexa!
Clarke rushed across the cellar and waited for the printer room doors to slide open. She stepped inside and trailed her gaze across the rows of organic 3D printer capsules until she heard the low hum of one processing in the far corner. She walked down the aisle and found the one emitting the low hum, noticing the blinking light on its display monitor.
"Oh, Lexa…" Clarke pressed her hand against the rough surface of the capsule wall and felt her heart twist in her chest. She rested her forehead against the surface and closed her eyes, took a breath, and pressed a kiss into the rough lining. "I'll see you soon."
She left a set of clothes on the floor beside the capsule and hurried back up the stairs. When Raven saw the look in her eyes, her brow furrowed.
"Shit, what happened? She processin' down there?"
"Yeah, which means Arkadia is gone. If Tiberius survived, he won't stop in trying to find this place."
"Okay," Raven clasped the back of her neck with her hand, rubbing the area where the rifle sling had rested. "So now what?"
Clarke hurried down the hallway with Raven at her heels, "We gotta set up defenses while there's still time."
"Fuckin' hell…" Bellamy collapsed onto the ground, sweat drenched his shirt and brow. He shifted up and propped himself up against a log, his rifle resting beside him. The sun was setting and they'd soon be enveloped in darkness.
"Oh, you weakling," Raven chuckled and took a sip of water from a canteen. She wiped the moisture from her lip and passed him the canteen. "Those sandbags weren't that heavy."
He took the canteen from her hands and snickered at her, "I didn't see you carrying any of those sandbags."
Clarke joined them and took a seat against a treetrunk beside Raven. She positioned her rifle against the groove of her shoulder and ran her fingers through her sweat damp hair, taking in a deep breath of cool autumn air. The past few hours were spent filling and positioning sandbags to establish a defensive perimeter around the windows and doors of the mansion. They'd moved their supplies inside and each of them now carried four magazines of ammo. They now sat, exhausted and muscles aching, outside the front patio in what used to be a garden.
"We should rest in shifts," Clarke said with a yawn. She rested her chin against the butt of her rifle. "I can take first shift, you guys deserve a break."
"I'll stand guard with you," Octavia joined them, her face still noticeably cold even through the darkness. "It's better if we're in pairs. We'll take turns, switching every few hours to make sure we get enough rest for tomorrow."
Neither Raven or Bellamy protested, and both were asleep within minutes. Clarke watched Raven sleep against Bellamy's shoulder and felt what seemed to be hope, optimistic of what waited for them in the Sanctuary. They could finally find peace there, they could do more with their lives than just struggle to survive.
Clarke felt the exhaustion weighing on her eyes, made worse by the darkness, until Octavia nudged her with the side of her boot.
"Have Raven or Bell take your place if you're too tired to stay awake."
"I'm fine." Clarke rose to her feet and blinked away the sleep from her eyelids. "If they are coming, Lexa will help us fight."
"Don't you two need to get to Polis? To distribute those damn chips?"
"Yeah, but our priority is protecting the servers," Clarke said. "If leaving means possibly losing the Sanctuary, of losing everyone whose already there waiting for us… well, then it'd all be for nothing, wouldn't it?"
Octavia crossed her arms and turned to scan the open field. "That's even if we stand a chance. You really think any of this makeshift defense shit will stop him?"
Clarke hesitated and took a breath before offering a shrug. "We don't have any other option, do we? We stop him here or die trying."
"I didn't take you for the 'last stand' type," Octavia shifted her eyes to lock eyes with Clarke.
Clarke readjusted her grip on her rifle and offered a smile. "Would you have it any other way?"
A grin curled at the edge of Octavia's lips. "Hell no, I wouldn't."