Book of the Tugsten Series.
Following Season Three and Four of The 100
Ranking
#72 in murphy 11/03/2020
#4 in mecha 10/07/2020
#13 in grounders 02/11/2019
#73 in bellamy 05/05/2020
#7 in engineering 07/02/2020
#74 in ravenreyes 05/05/2020
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"Well Toto, it looks like we're not in Kansas anymore."
"I actually got that reference."
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The first send I get back in touch, the feeling of cold metal underneath my back. It's solid, and cool to the touch. Then came smell, the salty ocean air still distinguishable through the fog which clutters my mind. Finally, my sight returns. Batting my eyelids to peer around the metal container we seem to be in. Sunlight streams inside from the sparse holes that are punched into the cage, however, despite this the area inside remains dim.
Sitting up I cringe as the room spins, my head wobbling heavily to rest against the metal wall. You know when you get a hangover and the next morning you try to sit up in bed? How everything still seems to spin and your limbs are heavy? Well, I sure as shit was feeling that way as the waves crash somewhere around us. Hearing the other four begin to stir, Bellamy mumbles "Where the hell are we?"
Octavia hauling herself up she reaches for her sword only to pause, "My swords gone."
Groaning I hoist myself to my feet, "They took my daggers too."
"Guns as well", Jasper supplements stumbling to his feet.
Not appreciating being trapped in a metal coffin I turn to the closest wall slamming my hands against the metal surface, screaming out "Hey Pocahontas! Let us out!" When I get no response I begin to slam my hands against it in a flurry of frustration. Form the other side of the cage I noticed Octavia doing the slam, her eyes searching around.
Suddenly from the furthest end of the container, the wall falls away. Bright sunlight pours into space and I lift my hands I shield my eyes, cringing at the brightness. After a moment of adjustment, I observe a woman walking inside. Dressed in a flowy cardigan and pants, her wild unruly hair flies around in the evident wind. "Luna" Octavia thinks aloud as she approaches us.
Cautiously I come to stand beside Octavia as her eyes visibly search the four of us unsurely. "Where's Lincoln", she comes out and asks warily.
"Lincoln is dead", Octavia informs her quietly beside me. Luna's expression deflates, disappointment evident in the way she glances down. Lincoln must have been a friend to her or meant at least something to her.
