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MOSTLY GHOSTLY
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BLINDING SNOW STAINED light stabs into Lyra's eyes as she slowly and excruciatingly comes back to life. Her head is throbbing, flames slathering her skull, and she squeezes her eyes shut as tightly as she can, slipping back into the reprieve of the molten shadows. It takes her a moment or two to gather her senses, to start to let the memories come back to her as she lays there on what feels like a cloud. . .
Bellamy. Clarke. The Azgeda warrior. Something chirps in the background and her eyes snap open. The boiling white light burn for a heartbeat as she tries to register the tubes snaking from her arms, the beeping of the monitors, and. . . oh, god, and the monitors and the stainless white cell. . .
Mount Weather.
She's in Mount Weather.
She's not really sure what happens next.
Someone is screaming. She thinks it might be her. All she knows is that one moment she is lying there, weightless, dizzy with shock, and then the next moment she seems to explode from her skin. She is trembling, violently, lurching across the tile. All without thought. Each movement is a visceral reaction to being back in the hell she has spent three months running from, black bile blazing at the back of her throat. Her fingers scrabble across the wires snaking into her arms and then she rips them from her skin, oblivious to the pain, not even sparing a glance at the bits of blood. All without thought. She spirals towards the door with screams incarcerated in her throat, feels herself pushing it open, staggers into the deserted halls. All without thought. All without thought.
Mount Weather: Quarantine Ward is stamped across the wall in blocky lettering.
And at last, when Lyra cannot hide the fear of the walls closing in on her any longer, she starts to sob. Brutally. Voices seem to bounce against the walls.
Lyra, can you do it? Can you irradiate Level 5?
Wait a second, Lyra, Clarke. We need to think about this. There are kids in there. And people who helped us.
"I had to!" Lyra cries out, feeling herself slump against the wall as she holds her face in her hands. "I had to, I had to, I had to — "
Ghosts are all around her. Doctor Tsing begging for her life as her body is viciously mutilated by radiation, Maya with her corpse so unrecognizable as Jasper sobbed, unable to let go of her. Little Eric Lovejoy with his blood-smeared pack of playing cards, the ones Lyra promised she'd play with him, and all the other dozens of bodies. She had made the choice: She had let the radiation seep through the air like red-hot fire, strewing demolition in its wake. She had made the choice to let them all die ━━ because really, Bellamy and Clarke would have never been able to pull the lever without her.
All dead by her hand.
"Lyra — Lyra!"
Someone is taking her by both shoulders, forcing her to look up at them. Her mouth trembles violently as she chokes back another sob. It's Lincoln.
"I can hear them!" She cries out, wishing this nightmare would just end. "Why can I hear them?"
Tears begin to roll down her cheeks and she doesn't even try to stop them. Her breaths come in short, ugly, wheezing gasps ━━ it's animalistic. Feral. Lincoln looks over her for a brief moment and then let's Lyra fall into his chest. She clings to him so tightly that she almost is scared she might break him, shaking as if in a seizure, her breathing shallow and scarce and wild.
And then a voice that Lyra had thought she'd never hear again breaks through the air.
"Step away from the girl."
She is so shocked that she actually stops crying. With a sudden weightlessness, Lyra turns slowly and meets the stony eyes of Pike.
For a terrifying moment, she is back in that classroom on the Ark. Trapped in that room, hands cuffed behind her back as Pike beats against Murphy again and again, until the boy is bloodied and bruised and barely breathing.
"Do you not have the heart for this, Miss. Jupiter?"
Her lips quiver and she whispers, "What?"
"I said, are you all right?"
Blinking, Lyra realizes that Lincoln has stepped back and given the former Earth Skills teacher room to approach her. She fights to control any outward appearance of fear, struggling to keep herself from shaking as she faces the man whose words have haunted her ever since she set foot on the ground.
"Why am I here?" She says. It hurts to talk.
"After the Grounder knocked you out, Bellamy carried you a mile through the woods back to our search party. You needed medical attention, so we brought you here. Back to — "
"Back to Mount Weather," she finishes. "I — I need to go. I can't be here — "
Something in Pike's stiff expression mollifies for a moment and he cups her shoulder gently. "Heard the story. I know coming back here must for you must be difficult, but it's for the best. Mount Weather is a nuclear hardened underground city. There's nowhere safer on this planet."
Lyra fights the urge to gape around him, or even argue. So many people had died here.
Shaking her head, she tries to clear her thoughts. Her dad. Her dad would never return her to this place. "My dad? Where is he?"
"There's a summit delegation in Polis at sundown." Something thunderous flickers across Pike's features and she gets the sense that he is not happy with this. "Your father has gone with Kane and Abby — though I suppose between the three of them, at least he has the guts to make the right choices."
Make the right choices? Lyra stares at him for a moment. What is he talking about?
"The Grounder who kidnapped you took Clarke there. He had some kind of deal with the Commander. Abby, Kane, and your father plan on getting her back."
Well. At least Clarke is OK ━━ then again, maybe she's actually worse off then Lyra, if that's even possible. She hadn't been dragged back to Mount Weather, but she's with Lexa, the same ruthless girl who abandoned them at the mountain three months ago. The same ruthless girl who watched Lyra her dragged off to be bled and tortured and killed for her bone marrow.
"Octavia's coming here on a supply run," says Lincoln gently. She turns to him gratefully ━━ she'd almost forgotten he was here. "Let me take you to her. She's missed you."
But Pike shakes his head furiously. "She's not going anywhere with you, Grounder."
The way he says Grounder makes it sound like a slur and Lyra's brow creases. What could Lincoln of all people have possibly done to offend Pike?
"Lincoln's my friend," she says clumsily, wiping the back of her nose with her shirtsleeve. Someone's changed her into a clean T-shirt and cargo pants; long gone is all her own Grounder garb. At the last moment, frightened she's forgotten her manners, she adds, "Mr. Pike, sir."
Pike studies her for a moment, then ducks his head. "You always were my favorite student. I trust you, Jupiter. But be careful. I don't trust him very much."
Bewildered by his choice of words, she watches him stride back down the hall. Then she turns to Lincoln.
"I'm sorry. For what just happened. I didn't mean to break down like this, I — I thought I was getting better. And then memories of what happened hit me, and I — and I — "
"It's OK," says Lincoln softly, touching her shoulder as they set off down the hall. "You're not a monster, Lyra."
"What I did — "
"You didn't have a choice," he says lowly.
"But I still did it," she whispers.
"It's not your fault," Lincoln insists and, for the first time, his mask starts to slip. There's an undeniable sadness lingering in his own eyes as he looks to her. "Trust me. You're not the only person with skeletons in their closet, Lyra."
"Yeah," she mumbles listlessly. "But I'm the only one who ran away."
"We all deal with what we've done in different ways. That's not the part that matters," he says, his voice coming from deep in his throat. "Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim."
Get knocked down, get back up.
Eyes swimming with gratitude, Lyra barely manages to murmur, "Thank you."
He nods briskly, then stops in his tracks with some reluctance. "I can't be seen outside. The Commander has not yet lifted my kill order for helping your people at Mount Weather. I was only here because Nyko was injured. I should go back to him now."
Lyra sighs heavily. She is not sure if she is yet ready to be alone; the Trikru warrior's kindness means more to her than she could have ever asked. But it would be selfish to ask him to come with her, so she nods.
She moves stiffly through the mountain. Her desire to run away from this place as fast as she can is just as strong as it was three months ago and the dejection at being forced to return here blisters at her heart. Being inside the corridors carved from stone is just as traumatic as she'd expected it to be: the low ceilings, the long shadows, it's all just an endless tomb. Whispers of the dead seem to stalk her at every corner, and when she blinks, she can see the bodies of the dead all over again.
Forcing herself forwards, she nearly hurls herself through the enormous iron-wrought door and into the outside world.
The golden January sun is calming. For a moment she closes her eyes, tips her head back, letting the honey rays warm her skin. Wildflowers are scattered in the small meadow circling the bunker door. A breeze caresses her hair, blowing a few strands back, and she almost finds it in her to smile again.
Then, in the distance, something roars.
Immediately on edge, she crouches back into the bunker entrance's shadows. Whatever it was rumbles in the distance, getting closer and closer and closer. . . and then her jaw drops.
It's a rover.
A hulking black automobile snakes through the trodden dirt path of the woods before bursting through the tree-line. It's wheels are absolutely ginormous as it lurches across the uneven slopes, a row of dull headlights flashing in the late afternoon sun from the roof. It must be an all-terrain vehicle and it's splattered with mud along the bottom as the driver pulls it to a halt just a few dozen feet away from where Lyra's hiding.
Her mouth curls upwards. She can only imagine what the inside parts look like; with the car battery and the power distribution center and the coolant pressure cap. There seems to be solar paneling along the roof and windows, meaning that there's no engine oil fill or power steering fluid ━━
Someone hops out of the side and a familiar voice groans, "I knew I should've taken my horse — Lyra?"
Lyra manages an almost-smile. "In the flesh, Via."
She barely has half a second and then Octavia is barreling into her, hugging her briefly before punching her in the shoulder. "Where the hell have you been? It's been three months!"
"I know, I know," says Lyra sheepishly, rubbing her arm. Somehow Octavia's gotten even stronger. "Took a leaf out of your book. Hung out with Grounders."
Octavia steps back and Lyra takes in her appearance as quickly as she can ━━ it's been so long since she's seen her friend. But Octavia hardly looks any different from the girl that walked out of Mount Weather, her long obsidian locks still falling down her back in waves, a few strands thickly braided. Her sword is sheathed across her back and she's still wearing an assortment of Grounder leathers, her person covered with various sheathes that must hold weapons.
"Copycat," says Octavia.
Raven straggles out of the drivers seat, and her limp somehow looks worse. Lyra tries not to frown. "Long time no see, Spacewalker. I've had to do everything around here."
"Yeah," says Lyra. "Rover's solar-powered, right?"
"Aren't you supposed to be the super-genius?"
"I could give you a lesson," says Lyra, feeling lighter on her feet at Raven's teasing manner. "Panels are harnessing energy from the sun, turning it to electricity that fuels the car's power train, which is similar to the combination of an electric motor and battery-based energy storage."
Raven rolls her eyes fondly. "You haven't changed a bit, have you?"
"Let me guess — you're the famous Lyra Jupiter?"
A pretty young woman with sun-kissed skin and caramel curls jogs around the rover, having emerged from the back hatch. Her features are soft, her clothes tattered from generations of use on the Ark, but she has kind brown eyes and a soft smile.
But Lyra doesn't miss the way Octavia pointedly turns away from the woman.
"Yeah," says Lyra with a shy smile. "Uh, I'm sorry, I don't know your name. . . ?"
"Gina Martin," answers the young woman with a lovely smile. "Sinclair hasn't shut up about you since you left. It's great to finally meet you. Plus, maybe Bell will finally stop his moping."
Confusion almost manages to tug Lyra's features into a frown. "Bell. . . ?"
Bellamy emerges from the other side of the rover, and brushes against Gina with such a familiarity that Lyra almost immediately is miserable. She stays perfectly still as the pair exchange words too low for her to hear until at last Bellamy's eyes find her; his eyes widen in alarm and he steps away from Gina almost immediately.
You left, Lyra tells herself furiously. He had every right to move on. He deserves to be happy.
He takes a hesitant step towards her. "I'm, uh, happy that you're OK."
She can't stop herself from giving him a tiny smile. It's so wonderful just to even be able to hear his voice again. "Yeah. thanks for, erm, saving my life."
He matches her grin. "S'not the first time."
"C'mon, LJ," Raven calls as she drags her useless leg behind her, limping towards the back and grabbing a canvas duffel bag. "Don't think that just because you've been missing for three months means you get to take it easy!"
Grateful for the distraction, Lyra catches the duffle she tosses her easily, staggering slightly under the weight. "Gee, thanks for the concern, Reyes."
"You're welcome!" Raven exclaims as she slings a lighter duffle over her own shoulder. Bellamy, Octavia, and Gina all copy her. "Did I ever tell you guys how I saved Sinclair's ass on the Ark?"
"Please don't," grumbles Octavia, striding past Lyra and for the doors.
As Raven and Gina lead the way back into the gates of hell, Bellamy falls back to Lyra who straggles behind, his features contorted with worry. "If you're not ready to go back in, don't push yourself. I mean it."
"I already woke up in there," she mutters, and hurt flashes across his features. She fights to keep her voice from shaking as she takes in the horrifyingly familiar stony walls surrounding them. "I just wasn't expecting it. It's OK. I'm OK."
He looks at her in disbelief. "We both know that's not true — "
"Hey, I'm not the only rogue Spacewalker!" Raven exclaims loudly from up ahead in defense to something Gina must have said. "Jupiter over here literally disconnected herself from the tether once!"
Lyra's cheeks burn, flustered as Bellamy looks at her in shock. "I couldn't reach the circuit panel. Besides, I held onto the side of the Ark, like, really tight."
"You could've floated yourself!" Gina says, looking fairly impressed.
"Yeah, well," she shrugs. "I didn't."
"How long were you benched?"
"Benched?" Lyra echoes. "I was fourteen and the best zero g engineer. Sinclair just put me in timeout for, like, ten minutes. Then Shenzhen needed airflow repairs and I was right back out there."
They round the corner and a cacophony of voices buzz in Lyra's ears as she steps foot into the crumbly grey asphalt corridor. For a moment, she almost thinks that nothing has changed. That she'd never irradiated Level 5, that she hadn't killed anyone at all, that everything has stayed the same. Her thoughts are hazy like a heatwave as they stand in the threshold of the mess hall, heart bruising her ribcage as she blinks rapidly in disconcertment, looking at the scene unfolding before her in a daze.
Because the mess hall is full of people. Families. Everything is haloed in a soft honey gold, the light still warm, the laughter of children echoing off the walls as their parents chatter over their heads. There's the clattering of utensils against glass plates, the clink of cups. Life resonating through the chamber that had once been nothing more than a mass grave.
"Welcome!" Pike's familiar voice booms over the pleasant noise and he rises from one of the tables, coming towards them. "Come. Join us."
Lyra can feel herself start to tremble. What the fuck is Pike playing at?
"Somebody's made themselves at home," she hears Raven mumble from behind her.
"There must be 30 of them in here," mutters Octavia.
"36" corrects Lyra in a wavering voice. Her entire body is quaking and she fights to get a hold of herself. "Counted them myself."
"The more the merrier," says Pike with a broad grin.
Bellamy strides forward, taking Pike's outstretched palm in his own hand briefly and shaking it out of respect. Lyra blinks twice more, pulse throbbing in her throat, a wild hurricane of thoughts roaring inside of her skull.
"36? Wow," drawls Octavia flatly. "The Grounders are gonna think we moved in."
Pike hardly seems concerned, taking it all in stride, even going as far as to make a joke out of it. "Well, there was no room at the inn."
"And this is your option?" Octavia asks icily.
"O. . . " begins Bellamy lowly, glancing back at her.
"I'm out of here."
"I'm right behind you," says Lyra at once.
"Reyes! You're 3 hours late! We've got no power to medical, fluctuations on levels 2 and 3, and blown fuses all over the place. Get on it. And Jupiter, thank god you're back — we've had a faulty circuit panel in medical for two months now and no one's been able to fix it!"
Halting mid-step, Lyra grimaces. "I'm no longer right behind you."
A familiar taupe-skinned man, his once dark curls now more grey than ever, regards her warmly with his arms outstretched. "What, no hug for your old boss?"
Grateful to have been saved from Pike's unsettling gaze, Lyra bounds towards Sinclair without hesitation. She hugs him briefly, finding something of a comfort in his familiar presence. If anything, Sinclair has been one of the most consistent people in her life since she was thirteen. She will forever be grateful for him.
"I did miss you," she says with a tiny smile, pulling back.
"It's good to have you back," Sinclair tells her in his usual pleasant baritone, his smile tender. "So, fried circuit panel that no one's been able to fix for two months. You up for the challenge?"
There is nothing Lyra wants to do then run away from this all over again. To run away as fast as she can and never look back. But she finds herself nodding anyways.
"Always am."
͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
HARDLY TWENTY MINUTES pass before all personnel is called back to the mess hall. And as she sprints through halls, Lyra is starting to wonder how much coffee is too much coffee.
Because two cups in twenty minutes? That might be pushing it ━━ especially for someone whose never even had caffeine before. Her hands are shaking even more violently than they had before, and Lyra can hear the sporadic hammering of her heart, but she doesn't much care. Coffee has caffeine. Caffeine keeps you awake.
Conclusion? Coffee is good. There is no such thing as too much coffee.
Because Lyra needs to stay alert. Alert, vigilant, hyperactive, and probably toeing the fine line of paranoia. But she doesn't want Mount Weather to ever catch her off guard again.
As she swerves the corner back on Level 5, she nearly smacks straight into Sinclair and Raven.
"Why the hell are they calling us off?" Raven is demanding as Lyra joins them and the three hurry through the corridors. "I've got tripped circuits all over the grid."
"Whatever it is, it supersedes fixing the power problem."
"I figured out the circuit board, by the way," interrupts Lyra, shoving her Walkman into the pocket of her cargo pants. "The integrated circuit is completely burnt out. Whoever put it in did it completely wrong. I was in the middle of soldering down a new one."
Sinclair sighs. "Great. Would've liked to hear that two months ago, but better late than never."
Lyra does her best not to wince. She knows that's not a direct jab at her, but she can't help but take it personally.
The mess hall is in disarray, causing her unsealed to balloon. Guards are rushing back and forth, relaying orders while Bellamy is unloading a crate of rifles. Gathered around the crooked wooden table at his side is Octavia and Pike, whose shoulders are rippling with tension as he regards. . . Echo?
"We abandoned Skaikru in the battle for the Mountain," Echo is saying, seated in the chair like a prisoner. Her face is streaked with sticky white, under-eyes smeared with charcoal: Azgeda war paint. "It was wrong."
There's a hint of regret in her voice, and Lyra is startled to find that Echo is looking at her. Bellamy follows Echo's gaze, and his jaw tightens ━━ Lyra almost forgot that after Echo and the Commander abandoned them, he'd seen the live video of Lyra's marrow being harvested.
"And won't they miss you?" Pike demands, looming over her.
"Maybe," says Echo, hardly looking intimidated by him. "That's why we need to hurry."
"Pike, she saved my life. She helped Lyra and I in the Harvest Chamber. We can trust her," Bellamy says gruffly. "Listen up. OK. If we want to get to Polis before the attack, we have to move."
"Attack?" Sinclair echoes incredulously. "Do we have confirmation of that?"
"We radioed, but no answer."
"They may already be dead for all we know," Pike says, his voice rising in urgency as he turns on Sinclair. "And if they are, we need to be ready to respond."
Sinclair stiffens. "Don't make this about the missiles."
All the blood drains from Lyra's face. "Missiles?"
"This is about survival," Pike insists to Sinclair, both men ignoring her. "We don't have the numbers, but the missiles in this mountain even the playing field, and you know I'm right."
"Even if I did agree with you, we still don't have the launch codes," counters Sinclair.
"No, but we have me," Raven responds confidently, then jerks her thumb in Lyra's direction. "And, y'know, Lyra did just come back."
"And you accuse engineers of arrogance?" Sinclair asks, hardly sounding thrilled by the prospect.
"I'm growing as a person."
"Wait."
Her face has gone chalk-white with excruciating pain, her eyes squeezed shut. She cannot bear to look at any of them right now. Her breaths come in furious pants, words seeming to stick to her throat as she tries to give them a coherent sentence.
"I'm not launching any missiles."
"Jupiter — " begins Pike, but she interrupts.
"I'm sorry, sir. I won't. I won't do it," she repeats, repulsed by the very thought. "Last time I was in this mountain, I — I — "
"Lyra," interjects Pike, forcing her to stop rambling. "Be strong. This is what your people need."
At long last, her eyes snap open. Six pairs of eyes are staring right back at her and somewhere in the crevasse of her gut, shame stirs. Bellamy is the closest to her and he almost reaches out for her in concern, then clearly thinks better of it. Her guilt worsens; she doesn't want everyone knowing how much it takes for her to even set foot in this mountain again. She doesn't want their concern. She doesn't want them to see her as even weaker than they already do.
But she just got back. Are they really asking her to do this all over again?
It's not fair, she thinks vehemently, battling the urge to just burst into tears. I don't want to be like this. I don't want to be like this. I don't ━━
"You've always been a smart kid," says Pike, taking her silence as agreement. "I know you'll do the right thing in the end."
She exhales sharply, nails pressing crescents into her palms.
In the meanwhile, he rounds upon Echo and practically wrenches her from the chair. "Let's go."
"Wait!" Lyra calls sharply.
Pike pivots impatiently. "What is it?"
"Not you. Echo." Lyra swallows thickly as the older girl's wolf-like eyes bore into her. "Uh. . . I just wanted to say thank-you. For doing the right thing."
Echo's wolf-eyes are unreadable as she stares back at Lyra. Her gaze flickers over the shorter girl before she at last dips her head.
"I've always done what I thought was right."
And Lyra watches them go, frustrations boiling up in her stomach. Not directly at Pike, but at the reality that she cannot just do whatever the hell she wants. That nothing will ever be on her terms as long as she is here. She has responsibilities and is barely her own person.
"Lyra," a quiet voice shatters her reverie and she finds that while everyone else has gone, Bellamy lingers by her side. "I'm going to stop the attack in Polis."
"Right. Of course you are," she mumbles. "Just. . . don't do anything stupidly heroic."
His mouth lilts. "Just garden-variety heroics. Got it."
He looks like he has more to say, but Lyra doesn't give him the chance.
Desperate to hide her crushing despair, she whirls around quickly and marches back the way she came, down the familiar death-stained halls, towards the industrial elevator. Yet she doesn't even manage to break past the threshold of the mess hall before looking back over her shoulder.
But Bellamy is already gone.
͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
THE COMMAND CENTER is overwhelmed with phantoms.
Memories haunt her. Though the linoleum grey floor has been scrubbed clean, she can still imagine Dante's blood trickling across the ground in rivulets. The monitor is blank, but it is too easy to see the horror on Cage's face as he realizes what Clarke's done. Then, the worst part. Clarke asking her if she can do it. Lyra saying yes. Her fingers on the keyboard ━━ the same keyboard she's at now ━━ as she works to reverse the air scrubbers, to irradiate the level, to kill three hundred and eighty one people. . .
"Damn it," Raven curses from a few feet away, sorting through files.
"What happened to that Raven Reyes confidence?" Sinclair asks her dryly.
"It's a 12-digit code. There are a trillion combinations. It's gonna take me a minute."
"Lyra? You never disappoint."
"Sorry, boss," she says tonelessly. "It's been encrypted using a cryptographic alias, which means I need the corresponding hash. I'd develop a rainbow table algorithm, which would organize like a list of all possible plain text versions of encrypted passwords based on the hash algorithm, but it'd take too long."
She decides not to mention the other painful truth; her fingers are shaking so badly she can barely type.
"And there's no other options?"
"Maybe I could develop a malware algorithm to target the code," she offers half-heartedly. "But we'd risk losing the launch codes completely. So."
"So not an option. At least, for Pike," says Sinclair darkly. "Gina, what do you got?"
"Don't look at me. I'm just a grunt."
"Oh, come on, guys," mutters Sinclair, beginning to pace back and forth as he holds his face tiredly. "It's gonna be dark soon. We're working analog. We're working digital. What are we missing?"
"How is the president gonna remember a number that long?" Gina asks suddenly.
"Not well," answers Raven, absent-minded.
"Want to bet he wrote it down somewhere?"
"Oh, come on," Raven huffs. "That's like setting the launch code to all zeroes."
"And that makes it a little bit too easy," adds Lyra and when both Sinclair and Raven round on her, she blinks. "What? I'm allowed to have a little bit of fun doing this."
"You're weird," says Raven.
"To go back to Gina's point, which is what we should be focusing on," begins Sinclair, looking between Raven and Lyra disapprovingly. "It's better than anything we've come up with."
Gina nods. "I'll check the president's office."
"We'll keep working the tech angle," Sinclair replies, handing her a walkie-talkie. "Hopefully, one of us'll get lucky."
"Hang on, I forgot where the office is," says Gina smoothly. "Lyra, could you show me the way?"
Startled, Lyra glances up. Raven, whose already returned to the stack of files, snorts deftly. "We've been coming to this mountain for three months. How could you have forgotten?"
"We can't all be smart," answers Gina calmly. "Lyra?"
"Um, yeah," Lyra backs away from the computer, shaking her head out in a daze; for a moment, the keyboard had been drenched in blood. "Yeah, yeah. I can take you."
There's a moment of silence as the two traipse into the shadowy corridors. And then ━━
"There is nothing going on between Bellamy and I."
Lyra's eyes widen. "What?"
"There is nothing going on between Bellamy and I," repeats Gina calmly. Before Lyra can open her mouth or say something, she holds up a hand. "I may not have been around at the dropship camp or during the war with Mount Weather, but it doesn't take a genius to see the connection you two have."
Cheeks going pink, Lyra isn't sure what to say. Thankfully, Gina plows onwards.
"He missed you a lot while you were gone. You leaving. . . it really hurt him."
"I didn't mean to," Lyra whispers. That terrible selfish feeling returns at full force. "I didn't mean to hurt him, I just needed. . . I don't know. . . "
"Time?" Gina guesses, and Lyra gives an uncertain nod. "To be fair, I think most people in your shoes would've left, too. But Bellamy couldn't and that's how we became friends. He needed a shoulder to cry on."
"You liked him," realizes Lyra abruptly.
"For a time. And who could blame me? It's Bellamy," answers Gina unabashedly. "But I'm not an idiot. It's painfully obvious where his heart lies."
It's Bellamy.
Yeah, Lyra thinks that's a pretty good way to describe it.
But now she is starting to ease up. She can feel that familiar happiness returning to her, lighter on her feet already as they enter the familiar presidents office strewn with bookshelves and knickknacks. As Gina starts for the rusted filing cabinet in the corner, Lyra tugs the Walkman free from her pocket.
Lyra grins at Gina. "You up for some music?"
"While we're trying to find missile launch codes?" Gina asks, then shrugs. "Sure. Why not?"
The first song is Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds, and Lyra turns up the volume as loud as it will go.
It's not long before the melody takes her away, and she twirls past Gina as she goes to search through a Manila folder. Laughing, Gina does the same, and the pair dance across the room from one another while they search for missile launch codes.
"Lucy in the sky with diamonds! Lucy in the sky with diamonds! Lucy in the sky with diamonds!"
"Raven to Lyra — what d'you guys have?"
"Uh, nothing," says Lyra, hastily shutting off the Walkman and shoving it into her pocket again. Gina hurries to smooth down her crumpled shirt. "Nothing, right?"
"Yeah, we've got nothing, no launch codes," Gina tells Raven. "I guess our luck is still holding."
"OK, keep looking," Raven's voice crackles back through the thin layer of static. "I'll do the same. Send Lyra up here. It might be time for her to just crack the cryptographic alias."
Lyra cracks her knuckles. "Should be fun."
And then suddenly, the door behind them bursts open.
Almost bursting out of her skin in surprise, Lyra barely had the chance to take a single breath as an Ice Nation warrior charges inside. A dagger is unsheathed in one fluid motion and then drives into the base of Gina's spine, blood exploding form the wound. Gina shrieks wildly as the warrior stabs her in the dagger once, twice, three times. He attacks her savagely, chaotically, a bloodthirsty wolf pouncing upon her.
Raven's voice crackles through the radio: "Gina? Gina? Are you OK?"
Before Lyra can even think of reacting, the Azgeda warrior barrels his entire weight into her, sending her sprawling against the floor. She collapses, heart racing like mad. A shockwave is rolling through her. He had just stabbed Gina. He had just stabbed Gina.
"Gina," she whispers lowly, terrified. "Gina! Can you hear me?"
There is no answer. Slowly, as not to attract attention, Lyra flips herself onto her stomach. The Azgeda warrior is looming over the desk, carving the knife into the table. A small blue monitor emerges ━━ the missile launch pad.
"Gina? Lyra? What's going on?"
Lyra's heart stops. Just a few feet away from her, Gina's teeth are stained with blood as she gasps for air, writhing in agony. And above, the warrior is punching numbers into the monitor.
Somehow, he knows the launch code.
Then he takes off from the room at a sprint.
Raising her head to glance at the monitor, Lyra blanches. It reads Self Destruct: 59. . . 58. . . 57. . .
Raven is shouting something furiously into the radio now. Lyra can hardly hear her. Instead she has run to Gina and is trying to help her, her hands grasping at her abdomen, and then her own stomach plummets. Her hands have come back stained with blood. Too much blood.
Fumbling for the walkie, Lyra can hardly breathe. "He — he has the codes! I don't know — I don't know how he got them, but he has the codes and he stabbed Gina and he set off the self-destruct sequence! I — I — "
"Lyra, breathe," Sinclair orders with baffling steadiness and she nods jerkily, chest rising and falling erratically. "How long do we have?"
She feels dizzy with terror. "45 seconds."
"Go!" Gina exclaims hoarsely, blood dribbling from her chapped lips. "Go, Lyra! Launch codes. . . they were on his arm. . . "
"But if I go, you'll die!" Lyra shrieks.
"If you don't, everyone will!"
Completely torn, Lyra looks at the bleeding out woman one last time. Then, silently making a promise to come back, she sprints into the corridor.
Pushing herself to run as fast as she can, Lyra skids across the corner, nearly swerving into the jagged stone wall. There is a looming shape in the darkness that can only be the warrior and she throws herself after him in desperation.
Sinclair and Raven are shouting behind her. Somehow they must have followed. She doesn't care. Narrowing her eyes, she runs faster, feet pounding against the asphalt.
The Azgeda warrior heaves the iron-wrought door open and then surges into the night. Adrenaline coursing through her veins, pumping swifter than her blood, Lyra runs out right behind him and into the meadow pockmarked with wildflowers. Then her breath snags in her throat as she scans the terrain. She cannot see him. It's as if he's just disappeared into the shadows. Where could he have possibly ━━
Sinclair lets out a sharp yelp of surprise and pain, and Lyra whirls around to find him pinned to the earth.
They fight chaotically, and Sinclair gains the upper hand for the briefest of moments as he nails the warrior in the chest. But the Azgeda warrior is much more skilled then him and stamps against his ribcage, flattening him against the dirt. They become an impossible tangle of limbs indecipherable in the night until at last Sinclair is pinned to the ground and the Azgeda warrior raises his dagger.
"No!" Lyra screams, bursting forward.
A gunshot rips through the air with an echoing bang! Raven surges from the entrance, her pace stuttering as she tucks the handgun into her waistband.
"Get the numbers on his arm!"
Sinclair rolls the still-warm corpse over, shoving the man's sleeve upwards and exposing a scarred arm. Branded into his skin are twelve digits.
"Gina, we've got the codes!" Lyra shouts into the walkie. "Gina, do you copy? Gina? Gina!"
No answer.
Without a second thought, Lyra shoots to her feet and starts to run back into Mount Weather. But before she can get anywhere, Sinclair seizes her arm.
"What are you, crazy?" Sinclair shouts.
"I can't let them die!" Lyra screams. She tears away from his grip in her visceral horror, chest heaving hysterically as she sprints across the meadow. "I CAN'T LEAVE THEM ALL TO DIE AGAIN!"
The mountain rumbles once. And then it explodes.
Something screeches loud above her head as she is thrown backwards from the sheer force. Sent spiraling through the air and for a moment, lungs clogged with smoke and death in her eyes, Lyra is weightless, floating.
A horrified scream erupts in her chest and rips through her throat as the mountain bursts into flame. Smoke and butter white ash billow into her face as she screws her eyes shut, painful crimson fingers of fire raking across her cheeks as she gasps for air. The world contorts all around her. Her vision is seized by molten shadows as she crashes into the earth, a terrible pain seizing her. Every single sound melts into a disjointed symphony of white noise, echoing incomprehensibly in her ears, a vicious hollowness gnawing at her skull.
Wake up. She stirs violently, dread and wild horror shredding her to ribbons. Wake up!
She opens her eyes. She does not remember closing them.
Her surroundings are mutilated, her heart slamming into her ribcage painfully, so violent that it is all she can hear. Blood and adrenaline ooze through her limbs at an infuriatingly sluggish pace as she chokes on her own blood. It trickles from her nose and crawls off her chin, salting the earth beneath her.
Darkness blurring her vision, eyes burning, Lyra wobbles, hands quaking as she seizes the walkie.
"Bellamy. Bellamy. Bellamy. Come in."
"Lyra!" He bursts through the static, sounding some awful mixture of horrified and relieved all at once. "Something happened at the summit, I think Echo tricked us — "
Her breath shudders into the mouthpiece and he cuts off. "They attacked Mount Weather."
"What are you talking about?"
"It's gone," Lyra whispers, voice cracking.
A torment of flames slather from inside the stone tomb, blazing, burning. Lyra watches as terror begins to corrupt her entire body. Every cell feels as if it has been snuffed to bitter ash, her mind conceding to the numb horror of it all as she struggles to think coherently. There is only one thought that seethes through her mind: They're dead. They're dead. They're all dead.
Choking on sobs, she slumps into the thorns and weeds and wildflowers.
"It's gone," she repeats again, curling in on herself into something fetal, something powerless. She remembers Gina, Bellamy's friend. "It's gone. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. . . "
And then words die in her throat. She can do nothing but break down into ugly sobs.
͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙
Lyra waking up in Mount fucking Weather:
y'all i hate online school because the best part abt high school is seeing kids fight in the cafeteria. and i am being DEPRIVED of that content. :///
also. . . rip gina. i thought u were rly sweet and had a lot of potential to be a good character if u had not been reduced to bellamy's love interest for ten minutes of screen time and then immediately killed off. (I'll never know the point of introducing u as a new character for this, but ok, whatever)
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