We arrived just in time to see Wells trying to calm everyone down, explaining something to the crowd. But before he could finish, Murphy shoved him roughly and yelled, "Look everyone, the Chancellor of Earth is here!" The crowd laughed as Murphy tripped Wells onto the ground. His goons stood in front of Clarke, blocking her path.
Bellamy stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching intently. I noticed his eyes flick to me. He recognized me. My presence didn't go unnoticed.
The laughter got louder when Max, ever the clown, added mockingly, "All hail the Chancellor of Earth!" The shouts grew louder—"Fight! Fight!"
The tension escalated fast.
"Should we stop them?" Troy asked, standing beside me.
"Nah. Let them sort it out," I said calmly. The others looked at me—especially Fox—surprised at my answer, but they didn't question it.
Finn eventually stepped in, pushing Murphy back and trying to deescalate the situation. That was our cue.
"Let's go," I told my group. "We need to take care of our own safety first."
"Copy, boss," Connor said, nodding.
We headed toward the dropship. "Find anything that can be used as weapons—branches, scrap metal, knives, anything. I plan to make spears, disposable ones."
I knew the moment we landed that we weren't alone. The Mountain Men and Grounders were probably already watching us.
After we scavenged what we could, I gathered them. "Alright, our goal for today is to find a bunker. A secure spot where I can train you."
"Wait… you're going to train us?" Paul asked.
"That's right," I said. "I know martial arts."
"Whoa," Monroe muttered, visibly surprised.
"Alright," I continued, "Grab a few rations—enough for a few days. We're not abandoning the others. We'll be back. But first, we find a place we can use."
"Let's move," Derek said, hyped and ready.
Just as we were about to leave, Bellamy called out to us, "Hey! Where are you guys going?"
I glanced at him. "Looking for food," I replied simply.
He raised an eyebrow, obviously suspicious. It was hard not to be, considering my group had grown into the largest one—twelve people total, four girls and eight boys.
We picked up sturdy branches, turned them into makeshift spears. We searched deeper into the forest, looking for signs of a bunker.
That's when I spotted something under a thick patch of roots beneath a large tree. I knelt down, brushing away dirt and moss until I uncovered a rusted handle. I pulled it—clank—a hidden door slowly creaked open.
"Everyone! Over here!"
They rushed to my side as I opened the hidden entrance. Inside was a tunnel. We went in one by one, and I closed the door behind us, locking it shut.
Inside was a surprisingly large underground space—dusty, but intact. Some shelves, cots, and even a few canned goods remained. Charlotte and Roma found a stash of old beers and giggled at the discovery.
"This," I said, "is our new training base."
Everyone looked around, impressed.
"From now on," I said, "we get stronger. I'm going to train you.
I estimated the bunker was quite a distance from the dropship—we had been walking for a while. The location was perfect: hidden deep in the woods with a river nearby. Ideal for both water supply and concealment.
After we settled in, I started training them. I kept it simple at first—hand-to-hand combat. How to punch correctly, how to counter, how to protect themselves, and more importantly, how to incapacitate someone without killing. They picked up fast, especially Derek and Fox. Troy had already trained with me before, so he helped demonstrate some of the moves.
After a couple hours of practice, everyone was exhausted. We sat around, shared some rations, and talked quietly. It felt strange—almost peaceful, considering where we were. I kept looking at the others, seeing how they slowly started trusting one another. It reminded me of what we were fighting for. Not just survival—but purpose.
As night fell and the fire crackled quietly in the center, I leaned back against the cold wall of the bunker. The stars were barely visible through the entrance above, but my mind wasn't on them.
Instead, it was on the dropship.
I knew this was the moment—the night when Bellamy would take the wristband from Wells.
Unbeknownst to Aiden, just beyond the tree line, back at camp…
Murphy and his usual group of followers surrounded Wells while he sat near the fire. It started with some jeering, then shoving. "Look at this little prince," Murphy mocked, eyes gleaming. "Still think daddy's gonna save you?"
Wells stood up, trying to push past them. "Move."
Murphy grinned. "Take it off." He pointed at the wristband. "Or we'll take it off for you."
Wells didn't respond. He clenched his fists.
That's when they pounced.
Murphy and two others pinned him to the ground. One held his arm while Murphy yanked the wristband off. "There. Now you're one of us."
Wells kicked and shouted, "Get off me!" but it was no use.
A few feet away, Bellamy watched with his arms crossed. He didn't stop it—but he didn't help either. His mind wasn't on Wells. It was on the 12 people who left earlier. The group that walked away like they had a plan. Like they didn't need the rest.
He narrowed his eyes.
"Who the hell are they?" he muttered.
"Wake up, Everyone. Let's start again," I said, my voice firm. "We're not training for fun—we're training to survive. When the Grounders come, I don't want any more unnecessary deaths."
They groaned, but they got up. Discipline was already growing in them. I led them through drills: hand-to-hand combat, countering techniques, how to punch properly, and how to protect vital areas. I made them pair off to spar, while those on rest rotation crafted crude spears from nearby wood. I guided them through basic spear-handling—just enough to defend themselves. The techniques were simple but effective, borrowed from what I learned before arriving here.
Back at the camp, tension hung in the air.
The commotion between Clarke and Bellamy had settled, but not without leaving behind a heavy silence. Clarke had returned to confront Bellamy, her voice sharp with concern and frustration.
"We need to go after Jasper," she said. "He's still out there, and we can't just abandon him."
Bellamy, leaning against the side of the dropship, crossed his arms. "Fine. But you'll need people. And you can't count on that guy."
Clarke raised an eyebrow. "What guy?"
"The one with the black, long hair," Bellamy said. "Voss, I think that's what some people call him."
"Where is he?" Clarke asked, her eyes scanning the camp.
Bellamy shrugged. "Took eleven others with him. Right after you and the others left. Said they were going out to look for food or resources. That was yesterday. They haven't come back."
"Do you think the Grounders got them?" Monty asked, stepping into the conversation, worry evident in his voice.
Bellamy didn't answer right away. He stared off into the forest, his face unreadable. "Maybe. Who knows what's out there?"
Clarke's shoulders tensed. "We already lost two people… and now with them gone, that's fourteen."
No one spoke for a moment.
The weight of leadership pressed heavily on all of them. They were still kids—but kids in a world that no longer forgave mistakes.