The night stretched on like a held breath.
Ethan sat with his back against the dropship wall, fingers locked together to keep them from shaking. The fire outside crackled, shadows dancing wildly through the gaps in the metal hull. Every sound felt amplified the scrape of boots, Jasper's labored breathing, the distant rustle of leaves beyond the barricade.
This is where fear sets in, Ethan thought. Where they stop pretending this is an adventure.
Clarke knelt beside Jasper, refusing to sleep. Her hands were steady now, jaw clenched in stubborn defiance.
"We're not losing him," she said, more to herself than to anyone else.
Bellamy paced. "If the Grounders come back"
"They will," Ethan said quietly.
Bellamy stopped, eyes flashing. "You keep talking like you know what's going to happen."
Ethan met his gaze without flinching. "Because patterns repeat. People defend their territory. We lit a beacon in the sky."
A beat of silence.
Then Bellamy turned away.
The Flare
Just before dawn, Clarke stood, shoulders squared.
"I'm doing it," she said.
Bellamy hesitated only a second before nodding. "I'll cover you."
They dragged Jasper toward the opening as the first gray light crept into the sky. The forest loomed dark and silent too silent.
Clarke raised the flare gun.
Please don't miss, Ethan thought, though he knew she wouldn't.
The shot cracked through the air, bright red light streaking across the treeline and exploding in a shower of sparks.
A scream echoed from the woods high, sharp, unmistakably human.
Silence followed.
Then movement.
Figures emerged from the trees, cautious but unafraid. Faces streaked with war paint, eyes sharp as blades.
One of them collapsed to the ground, writhing.
They didn't attack.
They retreated.
Clarke exhaled shakily.
Ethan felt something inside him ease.
Jasper lives.
Octavia
The camp was restless after that.
Some wanted to move. Some wanted to fight. Some just wanted to run screaming into the forest and never stop.
Octavia did exactly that.
Ethan saw her slipping away just after sunrise, moving light and fast, drawn by the same reckless curiosity that had always defined her.
"Bellamy," he said, nodding toward the trees.
Bellamy's head snapped up. "Octavia."
They followed her trail deep into the forest, calling her name. The air felt heavier here, the canopy thick enough to blot out most of the sunlight.
They found the clearing empty.
Too empty.
A blur of motion.
A net snapped tight around Octavia, yanking her off her feet. She screamed.
Bellamy surged forward, weapon raised
And stopped.
A blade hovered at Octavia's throat.
Grounders surrounded them, silent and lethal.
Ethan raised his hands slowly, heart pounding.
This isn't the fight, he thought. Not yet.
The Grounders melted back into the trees as quickly as they'd appeared, dragging Octavia with them.
Bellamy dropped to his knees.
"No," he whispered.
Lines in the Dirt
The camp erupted when they returned.
"They took her!" Bellamy shouted. "They took my sister!"
Weapons were grabbed. Voices rose.
Clarke climbed onto a crate, shouting until they listened.
"We don't know how many there are," she said. "Charging in will get her killed."
Bellamy rounded on Ethan. "You knew this would happen."
Ethan didn't deny it. "I knew it was possible."
Bellamy's fist slammed into his collar, shoving him back against the dropship wall.
"You let her go."
Ethan met his furious gaze, voice low. "No. I made sure we don't lose everyone trying to get her back."
Bellamy froze.
Clarke stepped between them. "Enough. Fighting each other helps no one."
She looked at Ethan. "If you have an idea now would be the time."
Ethan glanced at the forest.
"They don't want war," he said. "They want boundaries. If we cross them on our terms we might get Octavia back."
Murmurs spread.
Bellamy swallowed hard. "How?"
Ethan hesitated.
This is a deviation, he thought. A small one.
"Show strength," he said. "But not cruelty. They understand that language."
First Blood
They didn't have to wait long.
That afternoon, the Grounders struck again.
A spear flew from the trees, grazing a boy's shoulder. Panic rippled through the camp as figures darted in and out of the forest, testing defenses, probing weaknesses.
Ethan moved on instinct, tackling a girl out of the way as another spear thudded into the dirt where she'd been standing.
Bellamy fired a gunshot into the trees.
The forest went still.
Ethan stood slowly, heart racing.
This is how it begins, he thought. Not with a battle. With fear.
Across the clearing, Clarke met his eyes.
Something unspoken passed between them trust, fragile but growing.
Far away, Octavia watched her captors in silence, eyes burning with defiance instead of fear.
And deeper still, beyond the reach of the hundred, forces were already shifting.
Leaders were being informed.