Experiment of Fate ~ A Bellamy Blake story

1 - Descent

The dropship rattled violently, its metal frame groaning as it plummeted through the atmosphere. Inside, chaos reigned. Lights flickered erratically, alarms blared, and the acrid smell of burning metal filled the confined space. Clarke Griffin gripped the cold railing beside her seat with a white-knuckled intensity, her breath shallow as she fought to steady herself.

Every fiber of her being screamed that this was wrong—that sending a hundred juvenile prisoners to Earth as guinea pigs was a desperate gamble, not a solution. Her stomach churned, not just from the descent but from the gravity of their mission: prove Earth was survivable after a century of radiation and ruin. The fate of humanity rested on their shoulders, but no one had asked if they were ready to bear it.

A sharp voice cut through the noise. "Brace for impact!" yelled someone from the cockpit, their tone commanding yet tinged with fear.

Wells Jaha, seated beside Clarke, leaned closer, his voice calm despite the chaos. "Clarke, are you okay? Just breathe. We'll make it."

She ignored him, her jaw clenched as she stared straight ahead, focusing on the rhythmic pounding of her heart. The dropship shuddered violently once more, and then—impact.

The world tilted as the ship slammed into the ground with a bone-rattling crash. Clarke was thrown forward, her harness the only thing keeping her in place. The noise was deafening, a cacophony of metal screeching and groaning. Then, as suddenly as it had started, there was silence. A heavy, oppressive silence, broken only by the sound of labored breathing and the occasional groan of pain.

Clarke's hands trembled as she fumbled with the release on her harness. She glanced at Wells, who was already freeing himself. Around them, the others were doing the same, their faces pale and wide-eyed.

They were on Earth.

The realization hit Clarke like a jolt of electricity. She stood, her legs shaky beneath her, and made her way to the dropship's door. The mechanism groaned in protest as the door lowered slowly, revealing a world that was nothing like the sterile metal walls of the Ark.

Light poured in, blinding at first. The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, alive with sounds they hadn't heard in years—birds chirping, leaves rustling in the breeze. A canopy of green stretched endlessly, dappled with sunlight. It was beautiful. Untamed. Alive.

Octavia Blake, the second-born child who had spent most of her life hidden beneath the floorboards of her family's quarters, stepped forward, her face alight with wonder. "We're here," she whispered, almost reverently, before taking a step onto the soft ground. Her boots sank slightly into the soil, and a wide grin spread across her face. "We're really here."

The others followed hesitantly, some laughing, others crying. Clarke hesitated, her gaze scanning the horizon. She wanted to marvel at this moment, to savor the air and sky that were finally theirs, but the weight of responsibility pressed heavily on her. This wasn't a vacation; it was survival. And survival meant finding food, water, and shelter.

Mount Weather. The Ark's leaders had drilled it into their heads as their best chance of survival. But this wasn't Mount Weather. They had landed far off course, and Clarke knew they couldn't afford to waste time.

As the group scattered, taking in the sights and sounds of Earth, Bellamy Blake—a man who exuded rebellion and authority in equal measure—called out, his voice sharp. "Alright, listen up! We do things differently down here. No more rules, no more guards telling us what to do. The privileged can carry their own weight now."

Clarke bristled but held her tongue. Survival wasn't a debate, and the sooner they started working together, the better their chances.

Later, as Clarke prepared to lead a small group to scout for supplies, Octavia bounded over to her, her energy infectious. "So, Princess, where are we headed?"