Saviors ; 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥

132. ꕥ Point Of No Return

~forty-six days since praimfaya~

Earlier this morning, I found out I was having a baby boy — a boy. After nineteen long weeks of pregnancy, which I knew was only a little over a third of a way through, I learned that a baby boy was growing inside my stomach as healthy as they could be, according to Abby. Since the population of Wonkru developed a routine, the older woman ensured that having an ultrasound every week was a part of mine. Hearing that I was going to have a son made me the happiest I've been since Praimfaya hit us. I was beyond ecstatic when I found out, not just because I knew what the gender of my baby was but because finding out was just one step closer to the little miracle coming into this world.

However, no matter how much I desired it to, the great news of finding out the gender did not dissipate the hurt and heartbreak I was still feeling after the forty-six days. For forty-six days, I have been longing for something to take over my mind — anything. I just needed something to distract my mind from the pain and misery it was drowning in. I involved myself with the Delegates as much as possible; I was with Octavia and Miller training — despite multiple people's protests, I was with Kane, helping Niylah with her cart, and I had even made an effort to help Jaha with Ethan as much as I could. I was trying abundantly hard to rid the hole in my chest, trying to distract myself, but alas, nothing would do the job.

I tried focusing on the baby as much as possible, doing everything I could to prepare for its oncoming arrival with little success, given that this bunker wasn't made for housing children under the age of six. It may sound crazy, but the best conversations I've had in the past forty-six days were with the baby. When I was alone, I would always talk to them about anything on my mind; sometimes, I'd go over what happened throughout the day, but most of the time, I just rambled. Truthfully I think the baby was the only reason I haven't gone insane yet.

Yet, in retrospect, being underground in the Second Dawn Bunker wasn't too bad — I mean, it could be a whole lot worse. Despite the long, devastating days, I was mildly content with the life being built under the ground as it simmered in radiation above us. The remaining twelve hundred were surviving — Grounders and Skaikru alike, living as one clan or Wonkru, as Octavia kept reminding anyone who dared to think otherwise. Everyone was grateful that Octavia saved them from a fiery, painful death. And to my surprise, the Grounders were doing well, adapting to Octavia's way of living just like the rest of us. We, indeed, were growing to be one clan.

One of the things that filled my mind significantly was thinking ahead, planning ahead to what the future holds for us. Before it was ever even brought up as a problem, I searched for ways that would allow us to exit the Second Dawn Bunker once the next five years went by, knowing that I'd at least need those years to think of a solution. I knew the tower had collapsed above us, and it would take an absurd amount of manpower to break through, meaning there was essentially no way out. Even if I couldn't find a viable result to that problem, to any issue brought before Octavia or anyone else, I tried to think of an answer that'd fit, and more times than not, I would. It quickly became known by Octavia that, as it turns out, it was a skill I was quite talented in, so logically, the youngest Blake wanted me to be there when any politics was taking place.

That's why every time the Delegates assembled, I stood behind Kane and Octavia as they sat around the circular table filled with the Delegates of every clan. All the problems brought forward were usually subsequent issues ranging from stolen blankets to claims of low amounts of food. However, the newest and most dire concern had come during the last assembly that took place not even five hours ago.

There had been a banging noise coming from above — from the ground. Abby and Kane soon took it upon themselves to investigate, but when they opened the door, they could not — just like I had assumed, the tower and temple had crashed upon the door. Word traveled quickly, and the situation, of course, brought ruckus and commotion rattling throughout the bunker at the prospect that someone was out there, as well as the fact that there may be no way out. Swarms of people had crowded inside the rotunda and outside the office doors; shouts could be heard through it as those inside talked about what the fallen tower meant.