Chapter 23

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 Gaia's commanding voice echoed across the now hushed crowd, slicing through the tense air with a sense of urgency. "Skaikru!" she called out. "Two advisors to accompany the worgeda. Everyone else must immediately relocate to your designated safe zones."

As the Skaikru members began to disperse, Jaha's voice, heavy with anger and frustration, resonated in the growing chaos. "This isn't the end of our discussion, Kane," he growled. "We're on the brink of annihilation with the death wave looming, and yet we're entrusting our survival to this... this barbaric spectacle."

Kane's face was a mask of stoic resolve, yet his eyes betrayed a hint of despair. "It's the fate of all peoples at stake," I cut in, my voice firm, trying to remind them of the gravity of Luna's threat.

"She's just one of the thirteen," Kane responded, his voice barely above a whisper, as if trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

"She's more than that," I countered, my words laced with an urgency that reflected my deep-seated concern. "She's a night blood novitiate, Kane. Trained for combat in arenas exactly like this. Underestimating her is a fatal mistake."

Bellamy, standing nearby, his features taut with anxiety, chimed in with a troubled tone. "So, what do you propose? That we cheat?"

Kane's response was almost a sigh, tinged with an uncharacteristic helplessness. "The rules are sacred, Bellamy. If we deviate, we forfeit our claim. And if Skaikru loses, it's not just a defeat. It's our end."

Jaha, his face contorted with a mix of fear and defiance, interjected vehemently. "The rules aren't our downfall, Marcus. The very nature of this conclave is flawed. Even if we stop Luna, even if Octavia somehow triumphs, can we genuinely believe that the Grounders will accept Skaikru as the sole survivors?"

Kane's reply was immediate, his voice imbued with a conviction born of deep belief in Grounder traditions. "They will. The sanctity of the conclave is unassailable to them. Like it or not, our fate is now entwined with theirs. We're all Grounders in this struggle. Our task is to ensure our people reach safety and to prepare Octavia for what's to come. Beyond that, it's in her hands."

After these words, Kane turned and began to walk away, his back a symbol of the heavy burden he carried. Bellamy looked at me, his eyes a tumultuous mix of fear, hope, and resignation. "You should accompany him," he suggested quietly. "I wouldn't even know what to say to Octavia. My place is here, helping my mother ready the bunker for whoever may emerge as the victor."

I nodded, understanding the turmoil he was in. "Being there for her is what counts, Bellamy. If Clarke were still with us, I wouldn't let her face this alone, without a word of support."

Tears glistened in Bellamy's eyes as he met my gaze, a myriad of unspoken emotions swirling within. He gave a small nod, then turned and walked away, following in Kane's footsteps towards where Octavia was gearing up for the conclave. As Bellamy disappeared into the crowd, I found myself momentarily alone. My gaze shifted to Roan, who stood with Echo, his expression stoic yet filled with an undercurrent of strategic calculation. The air was thick with the tension of the upcoming conclave, each of us grappling with the weight of what was to come—a battle not only for survival but for the very soul of our people.

As I approached Roan and Echo, the weight of the impending conclave hung heavily in the air. "Can I have a word?" I asked, my voice laced with urgency. "Alone." I was keenly aware of the critical nature of what I was about to propose.

They turned to face me, Echo standing steadfastly by Roan's side, her expression unreadable yet resolute. I could sense her unwavering loyalty to Roan and her clan.

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