"You're a good king, Roan," I said, my voice barely rising above the low hum of the rover as it snaked through the dense woodland. The forest around us was a symphony of greens and browns, the leaves rustling softly in the gentle breeze, whispering secrets of the ancient land.
"Yeah, a king who runs errands while his people are embroiled in the throes of war in Polis," Roan's voice was tinged with a mixture of self-deprecation and latent frustration, his words echoing the complexity of our dire situation.
"This errand, though, it's vital - you know that," I sighed, feeling the heaviness of our mission, the weight of countless lives hanging in the balance. Beside me, Bellamy's focus never wavered from the rugged, twisting path ahead. His hands gripped the steering wheel with a quiet intensity, every line on his face etched with determination and the burden of responsibility.
"And what happens after? If we do manage to save everyone, then what? Do we continue this endless cycle of violence, even as Nightbloods?" Roan's question lingered in the cramped space of the rover, a haunting reminder of the uncertain future we were hurtling towards.
"We're here," Bellamy cut in, his voice a sharp interruption to our contemplative bubble. The rover rolled to a stop, the engine's purr dying down to a gentle idling.
"I'll take care of the fuel," Roan grumbled, his large frame unfolding from the rover with a fluidity that belied his size. He moved with a warrior's grace, each step a testament to his strength and resolve.
"I'm heading back to camp with the rover," Bellamy announced, a steeliness in his voice that spoke of unyielding resolve.
"Octavia?" I ventured tentatively, probing the delicate subject of his estranged sister.
Bellamy exhaled a heavy, world-weary sigh. "Pathetic, isn't it? She hates me, yet I can't seem to stay away. I'm drawn back, time and again, hoping for... something."
"She's your sister, Bellamy. She's blood. She'll see, in time, how special you are," I reassured him, offering a smile tinged with empathy and hope.
Bellamy started to speak, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice, "Kegan... if I don't see you again—"
"Don't," I interjected firmly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You will. We'll make it through this," I said, trying to infuse my words with a confidence that I hoped could bolster us both.
Our moment of connection was abruptly shattered by Roan's urgent voice. "We've got a problem," he announced, holding up a Trikru arrow, its tip glistening with fuel. "Trikru arrow," he stated, the implication clear and ominous.
A cold realization settled over us. An entire barrel of our precious fuel, essential to our mission's success, was now lost. The severity of this loss was not just a physical setback but a blow to our morale, a stark reminder of the fragility of our endeavor and the ever-present threats surrounding us.
***
Stepping into Becca's main research lab, Jackson's voice reverberated slightly off the immaculate, high-tech walls as he explained, "This is the central hub, but remember, there are five other levels." The air was filled with a sterile, crisp scent, reminiscent of a world where technology reigned supreme, a stark contrast to the raw, unyielding nature outside.
"Incredible," I found myself whispering, my voice barely more than a breath as I took in the surroundings. The lab was a marvel, a fusion of sleek metal surfaces and softly humming machinery, evoking memories of the Ark's clinical efficiency. It was a surreal reminder of a life once lived, where technology was an everyday luxury.
My introspection was interrupted by a familiar voice, tinged with disbelief and warmth. "God, it's really you." Abby stood below me, her eyes brimming with a complex mixture of relief and worry, a testament to the tumultuous journey we had all endured.
As Jackson quietly excused himself to check on Raven and Luna, his footsteps fading into the background, the room seemed to hold its breath for our reunion.
"Where's Roan?" Abby shifted seamlessly from her role as a concerned mother to the pragmatic, focused doctor I had always known. Her eyes searched mine for answers, a reflection of her perpetual drive to care and heal.
"He's managing the fuel with the others. I just... I needed to see you," I exhaled, the admission feeling like a release of some of the burden I had been carrying. Her arms enveloped me in a warm embrace, a rare sanctuary in our relentless reality.
"Don't punish yourself. Going to space was at best a long shot," she whispered, her voice a gentle caress against the turmoil in my mind.
"It was the only shot we had," I sighed, the weight of our desperate gamble heavy in my heart. My hand instinctively rose to my hair, fingers weaving through it in a restless motion.
My eyes then drifted to Raven, lying motionless on a bed that resembled a cross between a hospital gurney and a high-tech pod. I approached, each step filled with apprehension, as I brushed past Abby. Gently running my hand along Raven's head, I sought visual confirmation from Abby, needing her medical expertise to translate the gravity of the situation.
"She's sedated, after another seizure," Abby stated, her voice a controlled blend of professionalism and underlying concern. Her eyes, usually so steady, flickered with a shadow of fear.
"An ischemic stroke," she further clarified, her words like a cold splash of reality.
"That means... she can heal, right?" Hope laced my words, a desperate clinging to any thread of positivity as I gazed down at Raven's peaceful face, her usual vibrancy dimmed by her unconscious state.
"Yes, as long as she takes it easy. She's almost as stubborn as you are," Abby allowed a small, affectionate smile to grace her lips, a brief respite in her mask of clinical detachment.
Turning back to Abby, I sought to understand more than her physical well-being. "And you? How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," she responded, a practiced smile gracing her face. Yet, it lacked the full warmth I knew she was capable of, a sign of the strain she was under.
As she led me to another part of the lab, I broached a delicate topic. "Abby, I spoke to Jackson. He's worried about you. When's the last time you got some rest?"
She paused, her hands busy adjusting a microscope, her back to me. "Oh, I'll sleep soon enough, one way or another," her voice was tinged with a blend of resignation and stubborn resolve.
Peering inquisitively at the object in Abby's hand, I couldn't help but ask, "What's that?" My curiosity momentarily shifted away from her personal well-being to the scientific enigma before us.
"It's bone marrow," she responded quickly, her tone reflecting a mix of scientific intrigue and ethical concern. "Luna's, to be precise. Jackson and I developed a theory around it, but we ultimately decided it was too risky to pursue."
Intrigued, I leaned in closer. "What theory?" I urged, my curiosity piqued by the potential of such a discovery.
Abby paused, the fluorescent lights of the lab casting a sterile glow on her face, highlighting the lines of worry and fatigue. "We can't create Nightbloods conventionally, but Luna's unique physiology might hold the key. Theoretically, injecting ourselves with her bone marrow could transform us into Nightbloods," she explained, her voice laced with a blend of hope and trepidation.
"So we become Nightbloods," I said, finishing her thought, the idea resonating with a mix of excitement and apprehension.
"Will it work?" I asked cautiously, my mind grappling with the magnitude of what she was proposing.
"I believe it could," Abby replied, her gaze shifting towards a bank of advanced lab equipment, her expression a complex tapestry of scientific curiosity and ethical dilemma.
"But why hold back?" I inquired, following her through the lab, my footsteps echoing on the pristine, tiled floor.
YOU ARE READING
It's the End of the World as We Know it (Silent Moments Series: Book 4)
FanfictionThey've just saved themselves from the City of Light. Just to find out the world's going to end...again. Now it's up the Kegan and his friends to save everyone.
