❝parting is such sweet sorrow that i shall say good night till it be morrow.❞

-shakespeare, romeo and juliet

♛

THE ATMOSPHERE IS JUST as foreboding as our situation. Instead of a clear, calm night, we're met with rain as Bellamy drives through the forest to reach Polis. The water droplets pound quietly on the roof of the rover. It's the only sound except for the occasional direction from Clarke; Octavia, Miller, Bryan, Roan, and I are silent in the back the entire trip.

"There it is," Clarke says as the familiar tower in the middle of Polis comes into view. "We stop here."

Bellamy shifts the vehicle into park just before a clearing in the woods, several meters away from a sudden drop-off that overlooks the city. Clarke is the first one out. She hurriedly walks closer to the edge of the cliff to examine it from afar. I exit silently, the rain splattering on my head as soon as I climb out of the safety of the rover.

My gaze is instantly drawn to the looming tower in the distance. I've only seen it during the day; at night, it's an entirely different scene. The narrow, rounded building is lit from within, almost every single balcony shining with golden light. Puffs of smoke pour out of the top. The city is clearly busy, but this has to work.

"Alright," Roan begins as he approaches Clarke. "This is where we split up. The entrance to the tunnel is right over there."

"Yeah, we know where it is," Bellamy replies. I glance at him, catching the distant expression on his face. He's thinking about the last time we came here, when Echo had tricked and humiliated us in front of the Coalition. It seems like it was so long ago despite it only being about a month.

Roan faces Clarke, the expression on his face suggesting she isn't going to like the idea he's about to present. "I'm gonna need the Flame. Look, this only works if they send Ontari out to get it. If they don't see it, they won't do that. Not much of a trap without the bait."

Clarke's mouth twists to the side as she mulls over the decision. Her eyes briefly drift to me, seeking advice. I give her the tiniest of nods. She digs the tiny metal container out of her pocket and holds it out to the Grounder. However, when he takes it, she doesn't let go.

"Fine," she agrees. "But I'm coming with you."

I send her a bewildered look, wondering if I heard her correctly. Bellamy wears a similar expression of confusion on his face. He shakes his head, eyebrows pinched.

"No way," he protests. "That is not the plan."

Clarke removes her hand from the Flame, her eyes still on Roan and filled with determination "It is now. I'm not letting that out of my sight. And I'm the only one who knows the passphrase, so you can tell them that without me, Ontari won't ascend."

As much as my gut twists at the idea of Clarke going alone with the man who kidnapped her, I have to admit that she's right. We have no reason to trust Roan. We've been betrayed before, and this is a way to guarantee it won't happen again. But Roan is also right— if they aren't certain that we have the Flame, this won't work.

The Azgeda King holds Clarke steady with his intense stare. "You'll need to look like my prisoner."

"Okay," she easily complies. Roan raises his eyebrows, almost seeming like he didn't expect her to agree.

Bellamy jumps forward almost as if he can't hold it in any longer. "Wait a second. Give us a minute."

Expressionless as always, Roan silently agrees and walks back toward the rover so he's out of earshot. I watch him go until he leans against the trunk of a nearby tree. He catches my gaze and lifts a brow questioningly, making me narrow my eyes and tear my gaze away.

"—willing to trust that guy with your life?" I hear Bellamy whisper once I tune into the conversation.

"Think about it, Bell," I mutter back. "She's right— this will only make things more believable."

Clarke glances at me with the tiniest of grins for understanding. Her eyes shift back to Bellamy. "I don't trust him. But you two will be covering us the entire time, and I trust you."

Her words offer the slightest bit of encouragement that Bellamy needs. He nods, driving his gaze toward the grass at our feet and worrying his bottom lip.

Despite the circumstances, I'm relieved that most of the rift between the three of us has melted. We've always been stronger as a trio. The three leaders of Camp Jaha, an unstoppable force that can't be torn apart because the universe keeps stitching us back together again. There are things I'm still angry about. But for now, they seem almost trivial due to the fact that the entire population is at stake.

And we'll never be perfect, but at least this is something.

—

The tunnels are darker than I would like. Although it was starting to become light outside once we entered them, the underground route would be pitch-black without the beams of our flashlights. Even they only penetrate the darkness for a few feet before being swallowed by the ever-present darkness surrounding us at all angles.

I bump into someone's shoulder. Maybe it's Bellamy's, maybe it's Millers. I don't care enough to find out and instead focus intently on my whereabouts. So far, nobody has been lurking around, but I wouldn't be surprised if a chipped person lunged out at any given moment. The hair on the back of my neck stands straight up due to the adrenaline rushing through my veins. The cool air creeps over my exposed skin, my ponytail making my body even colder. I shudder despite my jacket.

"This is it," Bellamy announces as several barred windows come into view. It's much brighter outside than it was before, the overcast sky causing the lighting to be extremely pale and white-tinted. I have to blink several times for my eyes to adjust. "Get these grids off."

Octavia and Miller dump their bags onto the ground. The gas masks and bombs inside make barely-audible clamors, but the sound still makes me anxious. My eyes dart around behind us to make sure nobody has followed.

"Fallon," Miller calls in a whisper. I turn around with a jolt and hurriedly assist him in prying the bars from the window with the help of some tools from Caleb and Raven. Together, with our combined strength, the grids eventually come off and we're able to quietly place them on the ground.

I stand up and glance outside to see Clarke and Roan coming into view. If I didn't know better, I'd assume that he really is holding her prisoner. He leads her by tugging on the ropes that are tied around her wrists almost like a cruel leash. She's gagged with a cloth that cuts into her face, her eyebrows drawn in sadly.

I just hope she's a good enough actress for what will come next.

"There they are," I breathe, grabbing onto the rifle that's slung across my shoulders. "Lock and load."

The sound of Bryan taking out his own gun meets my ears. "Are we ever gonna be done fighting?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Miller pat his boyfriend on the shoulder. "Hell yes. We're gonna build a house on a lake. You're gonna plant corn."

"And raise chickens," Bryan continues with a chuckle.

Octavia's expression darkens. I glance past her and look at Bellamy instead, noticing how his eyes sadden once he takes note of her response as well. But his gaze flickers to me once he feels my stare.

Miller goes on with the fantasy. "And grow old."

We both break away in sync. Bellamy peers through the scope on his rifle, announcing, "Eleven o'clock. On the signal. He sees Ontari. We wait until she's standing in front of them, and then we launch the gas."

"They're gonna be holding their breath," Bryan says as he unzips one of the bags and tosses a gas mask to Octavia, "so we gotta move fast."

"Anyone who gets in the way, we use non-lethal force," Bellamy reminds us. "These people are not the enemy. They're being controlled. The only thing we're here to kill is ALIE. Is that clear?"

Octavia nods. "Clear."

"Clear," Miller adds.

"Good." Bellamy turns back to his scope.

I close one eye to look through my own, squinting as I move the magnifier around until Clarke and Roan are at the center of it. It almost looks like she's staring right at us. My heart skips a nervous beat as Roan turns to her and mutters, "Here we go."

I carefully keep them in my sights as Roan guides her until they're standing directly in front of the Polis monument. Clarke's eyes continually flicker to our hiding place, and I wish she would stop. If any one of the people calmly sitting nearby catch her drift, we'll be discovered.

"I am Roan, King of Azgeda," Roan announces clearly, his voice muffled. The Flame is perfectly balanced between his thumb and index finger as he holds it near his head. "And I have what the Commander seeks."

As soon as he finishes speaking, the people kneeling around them snap their eyes open and rise to their feet. I watch curiously as they gather closer toward the pair. The expressions on their faces are impressively blank, much like Jaha's had always been. It sets me even more on edge.

"I don't like what I'm sensing, so if she wants it, she can come to me," Roan says. I have to admit that he's the perfect person to act this part out, his take-no-shit attitude present even now.

The people pack even closer. My heartbeat is a roar in my ears, but my confusion builds once Jaha steps into view. He appears exactly the same as when I last saw him— impeccably clean in comparison to those around him, posture straight and tall.

"What the hell is Jaha doing here?" I mutter distastefully.

"Do you see Ontari?" Miller questions.

"No," Bellamy replies. "Hold."

I notice Jaha's chin move, but his words are too quiet for me to hear, and I can't read his lips due to the fact his back is to us. Roan closes his fist around the Flame in response. Clarke's heavy gaze drifts to us once more, but it's more than an accident.

Bellamy realizes it, too. He straightens in alarm and furrows his brow. "Something's wrong."

The chipped people press into a tighter ring around them. My heart leaps in my chest when Roan suddenly unsheaths a knife and holds Clarke to his chest, placing the blade near her throat.

His voice is so loud and clear that I can hear it. "Back up, or she dies."

Bellamy pulls away from his gun and shouts to Bryan, "Do it! Do it now!"

However, as soon as Bryan starts to uncap the gas bomb, a pair of hands seizes my shoulders and yanks me away from the window. My rifle swings backward into my gut due to the strap still being around my neck. I try to elbow the person, but they grab my arms as if anticipating my next move.

"On your knees!" a familiar voice commands. I glance up to see a swarm of Arkadia guards attacking my friends, one disabling Octavia and the other overpowering Miller. Newman, one of my least favorite co-workers, pushes Bellamy and aims a pistol at his chest. "Drop your weapons! Blake, against the wall."

"Turn around," another guard named Lancaster instructs him. Bellamy is flipped around so his front side presses against the wall, a pained gasp escaping his lips at their brutality.

"Not a move, Rivers," Newman snarls. He removes the rifle from around my neck, tossing it carelessly aside before nodding to whoever has my arms locked behind my back.

In response, the person shoves me forward until my stomach is flat against the concrete wall. The wind knocks out of my lungs and I stand gasping beside Octavia. Luckily, I hadn't hit my head on the wall due to the fact that I've been pressed against the spot near the window.

I look out in just enough time to see Kane shoot Roan in the chest.

My eyes widen as he falls to the ground, disappearing into the dense crowd. Dread consumes my chest as two men approach Clarke and grab her by each arm. Impossibly, they drag her toward the entrance to the building, and I've never felt a greater distance between us.

I grunt as the person suddenly yanks me away from the wall and forces me into the corridor along with the others. My feet trip over themselves in an attempt to keep up with their quick pace. However, it proves to be worthless once they force me to my knees behind Bryan. One of the men ties restraints around my wrists.

The crowd of guards surrounds us entirely. Newman stands at the front, his impassive face watching as Lancaster steps in front of Miller, who raises his head to glare at the man.

"What is the passphrase?" he demands.

"Only Clarke knows," Miller responds, his voice edged with anger.

Lancaster rears his fist back and hits Miller hard across the face, causing him to fall to the side and barely catch his fall. Bryan screams. One of the guards takes a step forward and closes his hand around the boy's throat, turning his cry into a choked gargle.

"Screaming won't help him," he says in a sickly calm tone. "The best thing you can do is keep your mouth shut."

Miller, sputtering, pushes himself back to an upright position as the guard releases Bryan. He turns his head and spits a wad of blood onto the ground at Newman's feet. The blond-haired man merely tilts his head to the side robotically, the action so much like Raven's had been. Inhuman.

"I'll ask you again," Lancaster hisses. "What is the passphrase?"

"I don't know," Miller spits back in a snarl.

I wince as the man slams his fists into the boy's face twice more, causing Bryan to visibly shake with rage. I hate how helpless I feel. There's absolutely nothing we can do— if we overpower them, they can just send a signal to ALIE and she'd send more reinforcements. We can't possibly sneak around a place swarming with people who all think the same. Especially if our entire plan has been compromised.

Newman straightens as if he's hearing something from afar. Then, he says, "Let's go. She wants Fallon."

My heart prickles with icy shock as two men immediately bend down and grab me by each arm, hauling me to my feet. I wriggle in an attempt to loosen their grips, even picking my feet up off of the ground so they're forced to carry my dead weight. They're stronger than normal people and don't seem to notice my struggles.

"Hey!" Bellamy shouts from behind me. "Where are you taking her?"

I crane my neck to look back at my friends just as one of the guards swings his gun into Bellamy's gut, causing him to double over and crumple to the ground.

"No!" I cry, thrashing my limbs wildly. "Let me go!"

"We've been given orders not to kill you," Newman says as I pass him, "but that doesn't mean we can't hurt you if you don't comply."

"If I were you, I'd hit the deck."

My eyes widen and my body goes slack at the sound of a familiar voice. I haven't heard it in almost four months, but why here of all places?

Newman clicks his flashlight and directs the beam in front of us, revealing the figure of John Murphy standing in the darkness.

"M..." I'm barely able to get out the first sound of his name before his words register in my brain. "Everyone, down!"

The unsuspecting guards are much easier to slip out of, so I'm able to twist out of their grasps and collapse to the ground just as gunfire pops in the air. The bodies of Newman and the other two guards fall lifelessly beside me. I almost feel sorry for them, but then again, I'm immensely grateful for this unexpected rescue.

The shots abruptly cease. I raise my head to see Murphy with his trademark smirk on his pale face— an expression I used to hate but am pleasantly surprised to see after so long. His hair isn't much longer than it had been before, curving away from his face by either some form of gel or oil. He's ditched his delinquent attire for a plain gray tee and cargo pants.

To my astonishment, he actually extends a hand to help me to my feet. I uncomfortably push myself to a kneeling position so he can grab my forearm and pull me up.

"Fancy meetin' you here," he says smugly.

My lips curve into a disbelieving grin. "Parting, such sweet sorrow, right?"

Catching my reference, his mouth twitches before he moves on to help the others.

"More will come," Indra reports shortly as she brushes past me. "We have to hurry."

My confused gaze follows her, wondering why the hell Murphy is with her of all people. I wasn't aware that they knew each other.

But then I turn back around and become face-to-face with Charles Pike, and I'm more than slightly confused. He doesn't look any different except for the fact he's clearly in a new guard uniform, maybe stolen off of one of the chipped men. But maybe there are wounds that I simply cannot see.

"Hello, Rivers," he greets casually. "Are you okay?"

He uses a knife to slice through the restraints on my wrists. After tossing them to the side, he glances at me, waiting for a reply. I merely nod both in thanks and in answer to his question.

"What are you doing here?" Bellamy asks Murphy, who scoffs.

"You're welcome," he says with his usual air of sarcasm. Then, bending down in front of a fairly beaten and bloodied Miller, he greets, "Nathan. You've looked better."

Miller warily eyes him from head to toe. "You haven't."

Indra helps a shell-shocked Octavia to her feet, the teenage girl's heavy glare on Pike the entire time. The tension in the air increases by a tenfold.

"You're with Pike?" Octavia snarls at Indra.

"The only way out of here is together," the Grounder replies calmly, though I can tell she isn't any more fond of the man.

"He killed Lincoln," Octavia informs her. Indra's head snaps toward the man who is busy collecting supplies from the fallen guards around us. "Put him on his knees. Shot him in the head."

"O," Bellamy warns, "Indra is right. We need every fighter we can get."

"Did you guys miss the part where it's time to go?" Murphy questions boredly from back where he appeared, now sporting an extremely bulky backpack which he has slung across one of his shoulders. Another one of his hands stays shoved in his pocket casually.

Bellamy turns toward him. "We're not leaving."

Murphy's lip curls into an ironic grin. "We just saved your lives. Why do I think I'm gonna regret that?"

"Clarke is in trouble," Bellamy informs him, taking several steps closer to the younger boy.

"Clarke's always in trouble," Murphy replies indifferently.

"They took her and the Flame to the tower," Bellamy continues. "It's a safe bet Ontari's there, too. Everything we need to stop ALIE is in the same place."

Octavia approaches them. "If we go up that tower, we won't be able to fight our way out again."

"We have no choice," I argue. "There is nowhere else for us to go. If they somehow get to Clarke, it's all over for us. For everyone."

Octavia swallows but doesn't retort, her mouth set in a firm line that means she doesn't like the plan but doesn't have an alternative. I glance at Bellamy, who nods and then directs his gaze at Murphy, who turns toward Pike, who sighs. He slips the pistol from his belt and hands it to Bellamy.

"Up the tower," Murphy drawls. "Great. You know, after this, doing the right thing can kiss my ass."

—

We hear the men controlling the elevator before we see them. The grinding of gears increases in volume the closer we get, the tunnels becoming more familiar to me as we silently move toward them. Eventually, Bellamy halts behind a corner and signals for Pike to make his move.

The man emerges from a hidden passage father down from us and raises his shotgun, shooting both of the operators dead before anyone can protest.

"Hey!" Bellamy shouts with a hint of rage in his voice. "I told you, that is not how we're doing this."

He doesn't even appear apologetic as Bellamy and I join his side, the others following behind us.

"They were in our way," Pike replies simply.

"They're not the enemy, ALIE is," I fire back. "If you shoot everyone you see, soon there won't be anyone left to save."

Indra raises her rifle as we step into the operating circle in case there are any survivors lurking around. I have to admit that it's strange seeing her with a gun instead of a sword, her usual weapon of choice.

"There's gonna be a lot more of these people if we don't move," Miller adds. "Let's do this."

"I'll bring it down." Indra walks to a tall, metal lever in the ground and grits her teeth as she struggles to pull it to the other side. I can only imagine that the Grounders never had machine oil to lubricate the gears, so 97 years of rust has coated the machinery and made it more difficult to operate.

"Once we're up, you blow the elevator and then climb," Bellamy reminds the others as Miller and Pike drag the bodies to the side.

"Destroy the ladder behind us," Bryan finishes with a nod. "On it."

"Come on," Murphy says with a twinge of annoyance in his voice. "You do realize we don't have a way down, right?"

"A problem for another day," Indra replies blankly.

"Let's go," Bellamy says, turning toward the elevator as it lands. "Our ride's here."

Murphy pries the two doors open and disappears inside of the lift, his backpack making him look like a turtle. I follow in after him and stand in the middle of the thing. The wall decorations are elaborately carved from wood, candles hanging from the stone sections and illuminating it in a dim glow. Overall, it's very appropriate— just the right balance between beautiful and intimidating.

Bellamy climbs inside next. He glances at his sister, who rests against one of the wall panels outside. "Coming, O?"

She glances at the four others who are preparing to launch us back up in the air. "If anything goes wrong down here, they'll need my help. We got this."

To prevent an inevitable argument, Octavia leans forward and firmly pushes the doors together. The last thing I see is her heavy stare before they close with a soft bang.

"Well, that was lovely," Murphy comments snidely as the pulleys begin to squeal, signaling the beginning of our journey to the top floor. "You get that we're screwed, right? ALIE already knows that we're coming."

Bellamy glances back at Murphy. "This plan will work." After a pause in which the boy nods slightly disbelievingly, he continues, "Why are you here?"

"I'm just trying to survive," Murphy answers, though his voice crack says otherwise. He notices our persistent stares and rolls his eyes. "You aren't the only ones here trying to save someone you care about."

I wonder who that could be. Not someone from Arkadia, because he's been gone for four months, and as far as I can tell, he never had any romantic relationships and his family is deceased. Then again, four months is a long time. He may have met new people along the way.

There's a brief silence before I tell him, "I punched Jaha in the face a few weeks ago."

Murphy's lip quirks upward in a smirk, a chuckle falling from his lips. "Good."

Just then, the elevator abruptly comes to a stop with the clanging of machinery. I tighten my grip on my rifle, which I'd retrieved from the guard who'd taken it.

"Shit," I whisper.

"Well, that's not good," Murphy agrees.

I turn my head toward the door as a series of pounds rattles it, muffled voices yelling from outside. The doors slowly begin to open as someone's fingers pry them apart.

"They're coming in!" Bellamy shouts, rushing toward the entrance and vainly attempting to hold the doors closed. "Murphy, get the baton ready."

Murphy flicks his wrist and extends the baton I know all too well, a surge of electricity creating a crackling sound in the air. The man is much stronger than Bellamy. He manages to pull the doors open, even as Bellamy's fingers grip onto the edges of the diamond-shaped windows for more leverage.

"What are you waiting for?" I demand, motioning wildly to the person currently trying to kill us.

In reply, Murphy reaches between Bellamy and the door and stabs the man with the baton. My eyes widen as another one immediately takes his place. They outnumber us, clawing at the doors and Bellamy's clothes.

Murphy shocks another person in the stomach. I bend down on one knee and observe the scene through my scope, aiming for people's legs or arms as to only wound them. They move too wildly for me to get more than one or two shots in. I can't risk hurting Bellamy or Murphy.

"Guys!" Bellamy cries as someone yanks him out of the elevator. Murphy lunges forward and grabs him by the middle, straining to pull him back inside. I fire at the man's leg and cause him to crumple to the ground. Bellamy wildly kicks another person once he has his feet on the ground.

There are too many people— the scene is completely chaotic. Even though Murphy shocks whoever he can, the people can't feel pain and are able to retaliate in a matter of seconds. They're also too strong. Bellamy only manages to close the doors for several seconds at a time before they're opened again.

I yell in surprise as a man lunges at us, tackling Murphy to the ground. He throws several punches at the boy before securing his hands around his throat.

"Fallon!" Bellamy calls, struggling against the surge of people trying to claw their way in.

"One second!" I shout back. Holding my rifle vertically, I slam it down on the man's temple and knock him out instantly. Murphy manages to make several weak coughs before pushing the guy off of him. I nod breathlessly. "Now we're even."

I turn, ready to help Bellamy, only to discover that the elevator is moving once more. He manages to close the doors just as we rise off of the floor and continue upward at a steady pace.

Instead, I extend a hand to Murphy. He glances at it for a second before accepting my aid. I pull him to his feet much like he had done for me earlier, and to my surprise, he even mutters, "Thank you."

"We're almost at the top," Bellamy informs us through a gasp of hair, putting a hand on his hip to straighten himself and get more oxygen in his lungs. "When we get there, we use a gas bomb."

We have thirty seconds to catch our breath. Once the elevator hits the end of the ride with an audible thud, Bellamy crouches down so I can climb on his shoulders. Our combined heights are tall enough to reach the panel in the roof. Pushing it to the side, I hook my hands onto the ledge and use my upper-body strength to heave myself through the small opening as quietly as I can manage. Bellamy then locks his fingers so Murphy can use them as a boost. Finally, he jumps up and catches the edge with hands. With mine and Murphy's help, Bellamy successfully joins us in the tiny space between the top of the elevator and the actual roof.

Seconds later, the doors slide open and a Grounder's muffled voice questions, "Wereon 'mo don gon we? Kamp raun hir."

Murphy quietly unzips his bag and hands us each a gas mask. Once the three of us have then secured, he ignites one of the flares and drops it through the opening. The man inside the elevator chokes, attempting to stumble out, but instead falls unconscious as the toxic gas fills the small space.

The boy drops down into the red-tinted fog. He glances around to make sure the others are knocked out before signaling for me to descend. I carefully climb down from the hole in the top, dropping feet-first down to the floor and narrowly avoiding the Grounder's body.

As Bellamy joins us, I flick the light on my rifle and aim it toward the exit so we can see. The further into the corridor I go, the less dense the fog is and the easier it is to see. The people's bodies lay scattered on the ground.

Murphy pats my arm. "Throne room's this way."

I wonder how he seems so familiar with the structure of the tower, but decide that now is not the time to ask and instead follow his lead as he directs us to the left. The air begins to clear the longer we walk. Soon, I'm able to rip off the gas mask and breathe normally.

The doors to the throne room are closed. Bellamy kicks it open and I aim my rifle outward in the event of an attack, only to find it nearly empty. My eyes widen at the sight of Clarke tied to a chair in the center of it. Jaha stands with a sheathed sword, raising it above an unconscious girl of whom I can only assume is Ontari. It takes me a moment to realize that the choking sounds in the air come from Abby. She's dangling from a noose to the right of me.

"Bellamy, stop him!" Clarke cries desperately. Just as Jaha rears back his arm to throw the sword at Bellamy, he fires a shot and causes the man to fall to the ground.

I take off toward Abby with Murphy in tow. The woman's lips are cracked and colorless, her mouth open but body unmoving. My hands shake as I come closer. Please don't be dead, please don't be dead.

"Hold her up," Murphy orders as he pulls a nearby oil canister closer to her feet and begins to climb on top of it.

I wrap my arms around Abby's middle and push her body upward, my teeth gritting together at the strain. A gasp comes from her lips as her airway opens up. Murphy slashes the rope, leaving me to make sure her head doesn't crash to the ground as we both start to fall. I scramble toward her face the instant I hit the floor. My hands fumble with the rope, my actions seeming almost futile until Murphy assists me in loosening it.

"Is she alive?" Clarke asks as Bellamy unties her from the chair. Her voice is filled with so much pain that it breaks my heart even more. "Is she breathing?"

I nod, the relief nearly too much for me to bear. "She's breathing."

Together, Murphy and I manage to get the rope off of Abby. She slowly but steadily sucks air back into her lungs. Even though I want to stay with her and ensure her recovery is smooth, I know that there are more important matters to tend to.

"Jaha has the Flame," Clarke informs Bellamy. "Get it! We can't let Ontari die. We have to stop the bleeding."

I sprint across the room and kneel beside the girl, who appears to be around the same age as Clarke and I. Black blood spills around her head at an alarmingly fast pace. Her face is marred with multiple scars, but I don't think they're from her time with ALIE— they're old.

"I got the Flame," Bellamy announces.

Clarke presses her fingers to Ontari's neck without seeming to hear him. "Her pulse is weak."

"At least she's alive," he says as he places the small container beside Clarke.

"Here, hold this to the wound." Clarke hands me a small cloth from inside her mother's med kit. I quickly reach over the girl's body and press it to the side of her head, eyebrows drawn in worriedly as the blood continues to spill, gathering in the cracks of the tile floor.

"There's too much—" I try to say, but Murphy cuts me off.

"Come on, what are you gonna do?" he demands anxiously.

"I need a flashlight," Clarke responds, her voice shaking. I understand what she intends instantly.

"First we take out the chip, then we put in the Flame," Bellamy says as he removes Raven's EMP from his bag and sets it beside my leg. He's the only one who sounds remotely calm out of all of us, his voice level despite the situation.

Clarke produces a small flashlight and directs it into Ontari's eye, peeling back her eyelid. I watch curiously as her eyes stare blankly at the bright beam of light.

"Her pupils are unresponsive," she reports in a confused tone, settling back and clicking off the flashlight. My heart sinks at the information.

"What?" Bellamy asks, his eyes filled with concern. "What does that mean?"

Clarke's eyes meet mine. "She's brain dead. She can't give us the kill code. It's over."

It's over. Her words echo over and over in my mind, replaying until it's enough to make my bottom lip tremble. After all we've done... it still wasn't enough.

"We're trapped here," Murphy sighs.

Octavia and the others are climbing up at this very moment. The elevator's been blown, as well as the bottom of the ladder. And we still have an entire army of chipped people lurking around the tower.

It'll take a miracle to turn things around.

_____

pls validate me i spent 6 hours on this chapter and it's 5.7k words lmao

fallon has officially climbed onto bellamy's shoulders when will you fave couple ever

i'm so glad i was finally able to reunite fallon and murphy! they've been apart for almost a season and a half so this was really exciting for me. i can't wait to develop their friendship even more during season 4!!

WE ARE FINALLY AT THE END

-kristyn

TRANSLATIONS:

Wereon 'mo don gon we? Kamp raun hir: Where did they go? Stay here.