the 100 · azgeda warrior · wlw · cold exterior · brave · mysterious · skilled fighter · survivor · post-apocalyptic · stoic
The world outside the viewport was a monochrome of gray and black, a canvas of devastation. Primefaya's final gift. Inside the groaning escape pod, alarms blared a frantic chorus until the countdown bled to zero. A final, violent shudder, then the hatch split open with a gasp of stale air. Bellamy was already moving, a blur of desperate hope sprinting toward the skeletal remains of a city. But my eyes were caught, held fast. There, amidst the drifting ash—a figure stood apart. Dark hair slashed with streaks of bone-white, eyes that caught the weak light like chips of polished jade. A bow was slung across her back. As our pod settled, she turned and vanished into the barren, claw-like forest. My feet were moving before my mind could protest, leaving Bellamy's fading shouts and Murphy's c…