Lorelei Tsing stared at her computer screen with equals parts shock, hope and excitement. The subject's blood's potency was metaphorically and almost literally off the charts. Of course it should have been expected, but she had grown so used to the degraded quality of blood they had had access to over the years that she had hardly dared to hope for something more.

But now things had changed.

She could tell they'd have years, decades worth of supplies. Given the subject's age and if they could keep it healthy they'd have a real chance at finding a permanent cure. Especially with the remnants of the Ark scattered around them.

Perhaps the for first time in a very long time Lorelei felt something very close to hope. Things would be different, things didn't look so bleak. And she was thankful for it. Her people had suffered so much, had struggled for so long. For too long. But now she was determined not to let this chance go to waste. Not when things hung so dangerously close to the edge of some cliff that she couldn't quite control in that very moment.

And that feeling of loss of control wasn't something that sat well with her. It wasn't something she enjoyed or sought out. And so she turned her attention to the one thing she could control in that moment.

Lorelei stood from her chair, she rolled her neck in an attempt to loosen the stiffness she felt and that she looked across the room. Her gaze landed first to a man who stood at the far end of the medical bay, one hand resting atop a handgun securely held in a holster, the other hand clutching a shock baton. The next thing Lorelei let herself gaze upon was the examination chair and its occupant.

The subject remained inclined in the chair, eyes closed and wrists shackled to the armrests, though not as securely as Lorelei usually did. They needed to keep this subject content for the time being. But still, she wouldn't trust it without some kind of restraints.

She wondered if the subject felt exposed given the loose pale blue hospital gown it wore, she wondered if it even cared considering it hadn't made a sound or even looked her in the eyes since the examination had begun. But perhaps it was simply trying to come to terms with its decision, with the fact it had sacrificed itself in whatever noble act it envisioned itself performing.

"It's been a while since we've had something so potent," Lorelei said eventually as she came to stand just a few paces off from the examination chair.

The subject didn't say anything, it didn't even give a sign that it had heard her at all. That didn't surprise her though. They always seemed to shrink into themselves once they realised they were trapped, that there was nowhere to run. Though some fought harder, fought for longer.

She glanced up at the guard once more to find a brief flicker of happiness at her words before he schooled his features and stood a little more sharply at attention.

"I'll begin creating a training regime and nutrition plan for you," and she reached for a clipboard she had scribbled notes onto earlier. "It'll all be under supervision, but you'll stay healthy, fit. We'll keep our end of the bargain as long as you hold up yours."

The subject's eyes opened at that though they seemed to gaze upon something on the ceiling rather than search for her or the guard's presence.

"Do you have a favourite fruit?" Lorelei asked.

That question seemed to surprise the subject though. She watched as its head tilted to the side ever so slightly before it eventually turned to face her. There was a brief moment of unsettled unease as the pale grey of its face turned to face her completely, the sight never quite an appealing thing to Lorelei even after all the years she had spent in proximity to them.

"I'm not a monster," Lorelei added. "If you're going to stay healthy we want to help. If there's a fruit you enjoy most I can add it to your diet."

It was a simple task but one that she knew would keep the subject more at ease. There was a reason companies of old always tried to make children's medicine taste nice — though she thought the success of which could be debated.

"Apples," the subject said eventually. "Green."

Lorelei hummed a response as she scribbled the answer down on her clipboard.

"I can make that happen," Lorelei said and she smiled. "Return our subject to quarantine," she finished with a nod to the guard.

And with that Lorelei turned and headed for the exit.

It didn't take Lorelei long before she arrived at the harvest chambers. Rows upon rows of cages stretched out in front of her. Some empty, some occupied by the natives yet to selected for experimentation or for use in project Cerberus. It was almost pitiful the way the subjects recoiled from her as she walked down the rows, each one she passed shying away from her as if they could hide in the shadows. But she ignored the whimpers, the quiet sounds of frightened animals.

Eventually she arrived at the far end. Each one of the cages in front of her were larger, a little more comfortable. The nightblood subjects who still remained had been kept in something closer to comfort than the others. It was a luxury she could afford these subjects simply because they needed to make sure they survived.

But now she wasn't entirely sure what to do with them. Perhaps they could be used as a bargaining chip, perhaps that could use them as a means of control should their newest subject begin to renege on their deal. She thought it a waste to cull them. At least not yet.

Perhaps she could use one or two of them for an experiment she had been considering. It would have been too risky to waste her subjects on an experiment before. But now things were different. Lorelei turned to look at one particular subject she had labelled B4, female and captured young, though more adolescent now.

"B4," she said as she checked her clipboard. "It's your lucky day. We won't be needing your blood anymore," and she watched as B4 looked up at her, worry and fear on the subject's pale face. "We have other uses for you now."

Anya walked quickly, her hands in her pocket as she passed person after person. Most people seemed to buzz with some kind of unspoken energy. It didn't surprise her that word of something big about to happen had spread amongst those currently living within Mount Weather. It was the same on the Ark when any announcement would spread like wildfire through the population. She even wondered if those who had set up camp outside Mount Weather had caught wind of something about to happen.

But all the buzz seemed to do to her in that very moment was put her on edge. She knew she was simply being paranoid but still she couldn't help but to feel like that buzz she felt was because they knew she was the thing that was causing the something.

She shook herself, the worries shed as she continued forward. She didn't have time to waste, not when she didn't even know when those in Mount Weather would strike.

It didn't take her long before she rounded a corner and came to the section taken up by the former residents of the Ark. She recognised a few of the faces who milled about in conversation and as she walked forward she nodded her head in greeting before she came to Kane's quarters.

A quick knock and an announcement of herself was all it needed before the doors opened to reveal Kane standing before her and Bellamy seated on a chair, his face ever bruised and battered.

"Anya," Kane said with a quick nod before he gestured for her to enter.

"We need to talk," Anya said quietly as the doors closed behind her. "Bellamy," she said in greeting.

"I'm assuming it's about whatever is happening?" Kane said as he sat in a chair and gestured for Anya to take a seat on his neatly made bed.

"Yeah," she said. "Octavia is currently with Raven," she continued. "They're going over a plan to cause a distraction," part of her wondered if Raven actually knew she could cause a distraction disabling the air scrubbers or if the woman was simply confident enough to be able to make it up as she went.

"For?" Bellamy asked from where he sat, his attention a little more focused at the mention of his sister.

"I was given a message," Anya said. "We need to access the quarantine facility, unlock whatever doors are there and get someone out."

Kane didn't say anything for a long moment as he seemed to think over every single thing Anya said and didn't say. Not for the first time Anya was thankful he was more prone to keeping quiet, to letting his thoughts gather before saying anything or acting on half information.

"So it's happening?" Kane said, and though his tone was questioning, the way he looked at her Anya knew it was more statement or observation. "We free whoever is locked in the quarantine facility and they do what, exactly?"

There was a slight hint of worry in his tone.

"You saw what they were doing to those people they captured," Anya said, her tone hardening just a little. "Bleeding them. There's countless people locked down there and one of them— all of them — need our help. We need you, our chancellor, on board if our people have any hope of surviving this coming conflict."

Anya's mind was already set. She'd trust Lexa and Lexa's decision to help these people. But most importantly, she'd trust what she had seen with her own eyes. But despite that she didn't want to come across too forceful with Kane though she thought it prudent to reinforce just what was happening to him lest he get cold feet.

"I'm ready," Bellamy's voice broke into her thoughts and she looked at him to find the man sitting forward, a determination settling upon his face. "What's the plan?"

"Bellamy," she looked at him. "Go with Octavia and Raven. They'll need help in case they run into any trouble," she watched him nod his. "Kane, you'll need to be with me."

Kane seemed to think over what she said for a brief moment before he seemed to come to an understanding.

"You need me with you so whoever we free understands that our people are with them."

"The risk for our people getting caught in the crossfire is already high. But when this all ends?" Anya continued quietly. "If we can put a face to our people, show that you, our leader, was there to help, then it can show the grounders that we aren't like the people in Mount Weather."

Kane nodded his head once more as he came to whatever conclusion his thoughts brought him to.

"Ok," he said. "I'm ready."

And with that Anya was certain their people's fate was sealed with a short and quiet conversation in their chancellor's quarters.

Lexa looked at herself in the burnished brass mirror. After the war meeting there had been a moment of panic, something a little close to fear that had spiked within her mind. But for some reason she had found that emotion, whatever it was, lessen and become more focused.

She could hear the few warriors that had been present outside the washroom, some in murmured conversation, others simply organising weapons and supplies and tools they would need for the attack on the dam.

It all seemed to be happening too fast for Lexa to feel like she was an active participant in her life in that moment. Whatever had been building over the last few days or weeks had seemed so quiet, so gentle, something that lingered in the background that it was easy for her to forget, or to ignore that her life wasn't simple anymore, wasn't so certain. Perhaps in some way she had fooled herself even for a brief moment that life on the ground could be serene, could be calm.

And that was such a funny thought.

She didn't think Clarke any of those things. But for some reason she found herself considering the more of whatever it was their connection could be called.

But then Lexa began to chew her lip as she thought of Clarke. Of where she was in that moment. Of what she had done.

There was a slight bubbling of anger at the fact Clarke hadn't told her any of it and yet Lexa thought it so very much like her to keep secrets, to tell half truths or simply leave unsaid her plans for the future. She wondered, too, if their moment in the cave had been some kind of way for Clarke to say goodbye. Or not. Lexa didn't know.

There was a knock on the washroom door.

"Come in," she turned to find Maya sticking her head in.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah," Lexa turned back briefly to look at the woman she saw in the mirror. Black paint covered her face, awkwardly braided tufts of green and brown fabric dotted her hair and she knew it did enough to mask her identity while they moved through the tunnels and forests towards the dam.

"We'll get close to the dam," Maya said as they began to walk from the washroom. "Then we'll make camp, stay quiet and wait for my people to attack."

As they walked Lexa took the time to take in Maya's appearance. It didn't surprise her to find that Maya had masked herself in a similar way to her, though the braided fabrics and the black face paint seemed to be applied a little more skilfully.

"How are you feeling?" Lexa asked, her voice quiet.

"About?" Maya turned to look at her as she side stepped two warriors who were organising their supplies.

"About the fact we're going to attack your people," Lexa said.

Maya's lips quirked up at the corners though the expression didn't seem happy.

"How do you think I feel?"

Lexa took a second to consider Maya's question, but before she could answer she felt a hand pull her to a stop. She looked around to find that she had somehow fallen into place amongst all the warriors who had been present at the meeting. Each one strapped with weapons, their expressions serious and calm.

The man who had pulled her to a stop held a finger to his lips before another slowly began to open a door Lexa hadn't even noticed. She looked back the way they had come to find it swallowed by the shadows of the Mountain, perhaps the very faint light of a torch the only thing in the far distance to indicate the presence of people.

"We move quickly," the warrior said quietly. "Stay low."

And with that they all began to slip out of the tunnel's exit.

They moved fast. Lexa didn't have time to consider much more than putting one foot in front of the other as the group darted from shadow to shadow. At first she didn't notice, but as they moved deeper and deeper into the forest and further away from the tunnels she realised that the ground they travelled upon was more moss covered, soft mud or grassed.

The fact that the scouts Jake had mentioned had clearly taken into account both her and Maya's lack of ability to travel undetected through the forests wasn't lost on Lexa.

Every now and then a quiet birdsong would echo out, at times it seemed closer, at others it faded into the distance and Lexa knew it must have been a message passed from scout to attack party, the meaning of which she couldn't decipher.

Lexa was breathing hard by the time they came to a stop by a large tree. Bushes and shrubs dotted its base and spread out around them, their size enough to hide the attack party from sight unless someone were to stumble across them directly. There was even a large fallen tree trunk, part of it hollowed out with rot. It took Lexa a moment of laboured breathing before she realised that the faint roaring she could hear must have been the dam, the sound a clear indication that they were close to their target.

"We'll hide here until the time comes," Maya whispered into her ear. "Get some rest."

Lexa simply nodded her head a she found a somewhat comfortable spot on the ground. But there was a rustling above her, her head snapped up and she saw a woman perched high up in the trees above staring down at the newly arrived group.

One of the warriors motioned something with his hands before the woman answered it with her own quick hand gestures. Clearly something was communicated before she slipped out of sight, the only sign of her presence the slightly swaying of the branch she had somehow been balancing upon.

"There is a reaper party nearby," the warriors whispered quietly in answer to Lexa's raised eyebrow. "Be ready."

Lexa swallowed, the last time she had come face to face with reapers seeming like a lifetime ago. And despite the fact she was surrounded by warriors she knew were more than capable of defending themselves, she felt her heart beginning to beat and her hands beginning to sweat. And she heard it.

It was quiet. She almost didn't hear it over the gentle droning of the dam in the distance. But it was there.

A snuffling, grunting sound seemed to penetrate the quiet of the forest and she sensed more than heard the warriors around her readying themselves. From the corner of her eye she saw Maya shrink back into the shadows of a bush, her hands clutching the handle of a small knife. Lexa herself edged closer to the shadows as a warrior moved just a little closer, his body blocking part of her vision as he readied an arrow.

Lexa continued to peer out into the quiet. She continued to listen, to try to find where exactly the reapers would appear. A bird flit overhead, another seemed to hoot a warning and this time she didn't know if it was one of the scouts or an actual bi—

Figures stumbled into the open not far from where they hid.

One, grotesque, disfigured, animalistic in stance and poise and posture seemed to twitch to a stop, its head moving from side to side as if it searched for something, for someone. In its hand was held a rusty metal blade, perhaps at one time it had been a treasured weapon, but now it seemed nothing more than a cruel instrument good for nothing but to inflict as much pain as possible.

Lexa's heart was beating hard, too. She could feel her blood strumming through her veins and she could hear it rushing in her ears. But there wasn't quite panic. Not yet.

She thought it in part because she was surrounded by those she knew capable of defending themselves. And she knew it in part because the reapers weren't some monster created by radiation. But they were monsters. Monsters created by Mount Weather to terrorise, to threaten and to kill.

And she realised as she looked at the reapers that stumbled in front of them that she felt something close to pity. Close to sadness—

The first reaper turned to face them. It seemed to peer into the dark of the shadows and Lexa could almost smell the stench, almost smell the anger and hurt and fear and loathing and—

And then it turned, it seemed to communicate something to the other few reapers with it and then the pack stumbled off into the forest and away from where Lexa and her companions hid.

No one moved for minutes longer. She didn't even think she breathed properly until the warrior who had moved in front of her shuffled away cautiously as he looked out into the forest.

"We must stay quiet," he said over his shoulder. "To attack or be seen is failure in our mission."

"Thanks," Lexa said in answer simply because she knew he had been prepared to protect her should something happen.

He simply shrugged his shoulder and nodded his head in answer.

"What's your name?" and Lexa took a moment to take in his frame, the orange red flaming beard, the scruffiness to his face and the warm browns and greens that flowed across his broad shoulders.

"Tobias," he said.

Lexa gave him a small smile as she finally let herself relax and settle back against the fallen tree trunk. Some of the other warriors seemed to relax a fraction, too. But she knew it not over yet. Not from the way each one held a weapon in their hands, and not from the way their eyes kept darting out into the forest around them.

It was cold. It was quiet. And it was lonely.

Clarke sat cross legged on the floor, her mind at ease, her eyes closed. There was a subtle humming drone that seemed to permeate the air around her. She even felt the air breathing against her skin as if the Mountain itself was a living beast that seemed fit to constantly remind her of its presence.

The room Clarke found herself in had white walls. The floor was white, even the roof was an unnatural pure white that spat its light out around her in something close to cruel harshness.

If Clarke imagined a little harder she could picture herself amongst the frozen plains of Azgeda. If she listened just a little more with her mind than with her ears she could pretend that the droning hum she could hear was the wind that whistled through the trees that she called home. But it wasn't so.

Everything about her life in that moment was unnatural. The bare cloth that draped her body did little to shield her from the cold. It did little to provide any kind of protection, any kind of comfort or warmth or dignity in such a hostile environment.

The accents she heard of those that now held her hostage was strange, ugly upon her ears. The way they walked, the way to spoke. The way they laughed, breathed and existed did nothing but make her want to claim their lives as forfeit. To kill, maim, torture and torment their every waking moment until they no longer breathed air into the world. And she would make it so with a smile upon her lips.

But then she heard the approach of feet.

Boots clipped against the cold floor. They echoed out ever so quietly behind the locked door.

There was a scraping of a key in a lock, there was the click of the door opening. Clarke heard two, maybe three people standing in front of her. Clarke remained seated on the floor as her eyes opened to find two men— Mountain warriors— standing in front of her, the female healer who had been an ever there presence stood a few paces behind them.

She didn't speak. She didn't have anything to say to them really. But she was curious. Curious because she could sense something.

The first man she saw recoiled just a little as his gaze settled on her though. Whatever he saw must have been off putting in some way. She wasn't surprised for she hoped she would be the last horrid thing he saw.

"Get up," the man said.

There was a subtle buzz in his words, an inflection that told her something was happening.

Soon, she thought as she rose to her feet.

"Hands together," he motioned for her to put her hands together.

They shackled her hands together with some kind of leather restrained, the buckle cold against her skin, the pressure a little uncomfortable as it pressed against the raised edge of one of the scars that ran the length of her forearm.

"Move," the man said, his voice a little more relaxed now that he thought her defenceless.

Clarke fell into step behind him, the second man behind her, the female healer who still hadn't spoken somewhere further behind them still.

The hallway the walked through was flanked on either side by empty room after empty room. From the small windows in the doors Clarke could see that each room was the same as the one she had been placed in. There was that ever present uncomfortable whiteness that seemed so very unnatural, even the echoing of the footsteps that sounded out around them seemed fake as they echoed, bounced and danced across the smooth surface of the Mountain's interior.

Eventually they came to a familiar set of doors. As they opened Clarke was greeted to the ever present chair she had found herself strapped to earlier. Tech littered the room, perhaps more now than the first time she had been present.

It only took them a moment longer before Clarke was strapped in place, the chair uncomfortable, her body awkwardly reclined, wrists shackled to the armrests.

But Clarke didn't mind.

She would suffer this a thousand times if it meant her people would be free.

And so—

"Everything all set, Doctor Tsing?"

The first man's voice broke her thoughts.

"Yes," the healer said.

"Good," he nodded his head to the healer and to the second man who took up his position by the far wall. "I'm joining the others so someone else will be down to help take the subject back once this is done."

That made Clarke's senses hone in more completely. She didn't react though. She kept her eyes focused somewhere on the ceiling and she listened as the man stepped out of the room, she listened as the door closed with a heavy locking sound.

And she knew.

Her time had come. There was no going back. Not for her. Not for the healer. Not for the second man who had said nothing.

And not for every single person that called the Mountain home.

"Come here," the healer said and Clarke watched the second man approach her from the corner of her eye. "Hold her arm steady while I take another sample."

Clarke let her mind settle as the whirring sound of whatever instrument the healer used spun into life. She knew this next part would hurt. It had hurt the first time and she knew it would continue to hurt every other time. But if things were timed right she knew it would be the last time she would need to suffer the indignity of having her body stolen and desecrated.

And so Clarke grit her teeth as the spinning teeth of the Mountain bit into her arm, bit into her muscle and bit into her bone.

And then she struck.