"Then how should I know that you will do it right?" she asks, raising her eyebrows and then cringing in pain. I pause. She's right. All we do is fight. Why should she trust me? Especially for something like this. Still, I can't leave her here, cringing in pain and trying to sew her skin together. "You'll just have to trust me on this one, princess," I say at last. ---------- In a world not their own, two souls take comfort in each other. When the rain comes on earth, it storms. But when it storms, they take comfort in each other.

I was born in space. I've never felt the sun on my face. Or breathed real air. Or floated in the water. None of us have. For three generations, the Ark has kept what's left of the human race alive. It's been 97 years since a nuclear apocalypse killed everyone on Earth, leaving the planet simmering in radiation. Fortunately, there were survivors. 12 nations had operational space stations at the time of the bombs. There is now only the Ark, one station forged from many. We're told the Earth needs another 100 years to become survivable again. Four more space-locked generations, and man can go home, back to the ground. The ground, that's the dream. This is reality. This is the story about the lives of the people who have to live on the Ark and how there lives have changed. Every person trying there best to make life on the Ark work hoping that one day man will make it back to the ground. Only if they knew the truth. That day is fast approaching all to soon for 100 of the youths on the Ark. This is the story of the 100.