Chapter 1: The Descent

The pods hurtled through the atmosphere, each streaking across the dawn sky like falling stars. One after another, they pierced the clouds, shrouded in flames as they descended toward the planet below. From the windows, the Exiled 300 caught glimpses of the world that had once been their ancestral home. Earth.

It was stunning.

Forests of deep emerald stretched out endlessly beneath them, cut through by winding rivers that glowed with a surreal blue. Massive mountain ranges loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in wisps of mist. But the land was marred by something unnatural—strange storms swirled across the surface, churning with violent energy, their cores glowing faintly green as if charged by something far more dangerous than lightning. The sky flickered and pulsed in places, as though the planet itself breathed with a volatile, otherworldly life.

Yet the world was beautiful, hauntingly so. Earth had become a landscape of contrasts—life thriving in the ruins of a world once consumed by fire.

Elys Cain pressed his face against the reinforced glass of his drop pod, captivated by the sight. For his entire life aboard the Ark, Earth had been a place of legends and stories, painted as a wasteland of death and radiation. Now, seeing it firsthand, he felt something he hadn't expected—hope.

"Cain! Focus!" Reyna's voice crackled through the intercom. The Pilot Commander's pod was ahead of his, navigating the chaotic descent with practiced ease. "We're about to hit the lower atmosphere. Prepare for final impact!"

Elys nodded, though the gesture was more to steady his nerves than to respond. Around him, the rest of the pods glowed like fireflies as they streaked toward the ground. Three hundred of them—criminals, rebels, and unwanted youth—sent down from the Ark as a desperate experiment. Each one a member of one of the Ark's Twelve Tribes, their fates now bound together on this strange, untamed world.

"Brace!" Reyna's command was drowned out by a deafening roar. The pods shuddered violently, and then, with a bone-jarring thud, they struck the earth.

Darkness.

Elys came to with a sharp gasp, his body aching from the impact. The pod's restraints released, and he collapsed to the ground, blinking against the sudden light. His ears rang, but slowly, sounds filtered in—the distant calls of strange creatures, the rustle of wind through the trees, and, closer, the groans and shouts of the other survivors.

He pushed himself up and staggered out of the pod, emerging into the open air for the first time. The forest around them was alive, teeming with unfamiliar sights and sounds. Massive trees towered above them, their bark blackened and gnarled, while luminous flowers glowed faintly in the underbrush. A thick green mist curled around their feet, swirling lazily in the dawn light.

It was nothing like the barren wasteland he'd imagined.

"Everyone, gather up!" Reyna's voice rang out, and Elys turned to see the Pilot Commander standing atop a nearby rock. Even disheveled and bruised from the landing, she exuded an air of authority that drew the others to her. "Check for injuries and supplies. We need to secure the area and establish a perimeter."

As the other Exiles began to organize, Elys drifted away, drawn by a strange, almost magnetic pull. Something in the air felt… off. He pushed through the underbrush, the green mist thickening around him. It seemed to whisper, beckoning him deeper.

Then he saw it.

Half-buried in the soft earth, hidden among the roots of a twisted tree, lay a small, metallic syringe. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen—sleek and silver, with a single drop of inky black liquid suspended inside. The moment he laid eyes on it, a chill ran down his spine.

"What is this?" he murmured, reaching out cautiously. His fingers brushed the syringe, and a shock of energy jolted up his arm. He jerked back, heart pounding.

Something in the black liquid moved.

"Cain!" A voice barked behind him, and he turned to see Reyna approaching, her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Elys stammered, shoving the syringe into his pocket. "Just… scouting."

Reyna's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, sharp and assessing. But then she sighed, glancing around the eerie, mist-filled forest. "Stay close. This place isn't safe."

He nodded, but as they turned back toward the clearing, Elys's thoughts raced. What had he found? And why did it feel like it was calling to him?

The camp settled in uneasy silence. As the sun rose higher, the strange storms in the distance began to churn, their green cores flaring with bursts of energy. Elys watched them warily. There was something almost… alive about the way they moved.

"What do you think caused them?" he murmured to Tori, one of the Exiles from the Raven Tribe, as she tightened the makeshift perimeter with strands of scavenged wire.

She shrugged, her dark hair falling across her eyes. "Who knows? Maybe it's the radiation. They said Earth was poisoned."

But Elys wasn't so sure. Radiation didn't move like that. And then there were the stories—whispers passed down through the Tribes, of creatures that roamed the surface, of monstrous beings that could withstand the worst of the fallout. The Grounders, they called them.

But those were just stories. Weren't they?

"Eyes up!" Reyna's sharp command broke through his thoughts. Elys snapped his gaze to the treeline, heart lurching. A figure stood there, half-hidden in the shadows. Tall and silent, its form shrouded in the mist.

A Grounder.

The camp froze, every Exile turning toward the figure. Elys's blood ran cold. The Grounders weren't supposed to be real. They were myths, remnants of a forgotten world.

The figure moved, stepping out of the shadows. Elys caught a glimpse of something—dark eyes, a scarred face—and then it was gone, melting back into the forest like smoke.

"What the hell was that?" Tori whispered, voice trembling.

"I don't know," Elys murmured, his hand brushing against the syringe in his pocket. A chill settled over him as the green mist thickened around their camp, creeping closer.

But one thing was certain.

They weren't alone.

Chapter Summary:

The Exiled 300 have landed on Earth, a world transformed by the aftermath of a devastating nuclear war. The land is beautiful but dangerous, haunted by strange storms and mysterious figures. As the Radiant struggle to establish a foothold, Elys discovers a strange syringe filled with Black Blood—an artifact that could change everything. Unbeknownst to them, Earth holds dark secrets, and the Grounders—the rumored survivors of the Fall—are very real, and they're watching.

This was just the beginning.Chapter 1: The Descent

The pods hurtled through the atmosphere, each streaking across the dawn sky like falling stars. One after another, they pierced the clouds, shrouded in flames as they descended toward the planet below. From the windows, the Exiled 300 caught glimpses of the world that had once been their ancestral home. Earth.

It was stunning.

Forests of deep emerald stretched out endlessly beneath them, cut through by winding rivers that glowed with a surreal blue. Massive mountain ranges loomed in the distance, their peaks shrouded in wisps of mist. But the land was marred by something unnatural—strange storms swirled across the surface, churning with violent energy, their cores glowing faintly green as if charged by something far more dangerous than lightning. The sky flickered and pulsed in places, as though the planet itself breathed with a volatile, otherworldly life.

Yet the world was beautiful, hauntingly so. Earth had become a landscape of contrasts—life thriving in the ruins of a world once consumed by fire.

Elys Cain pressed his face against the reinforced glass of his drop pod, captivated by the sight. For his entire life aboard the Ark, Earth had been a place of legends and stories, painted as a wasteland of death and radiation. Now, seeing it firsthand, he felt something he hadn't expected—hope.

"Cain! Focus!" Reyna's voice crackled through the intercom. The Pilot Commander's pod was ahead of his, navigating the chaotic descent with practiced ease. "We're about to hit the lower atmosphere. Prepare for final impact!"

Elys nodded, though the gesture was more to steady his nerves than to respond. Around him, the rest of the pods glowed like fireflies as they streaked toward the ground. Three hundred of them—criminals, rebels, and unwanted youth—sent down from the Ark as a desperate experiment. Each one a member of one of the Ark's Twelve Tribes, their fates now bound together on this strange, untamed world.

"Brace!" Reyna's command was drowned out by a deafening roar. The pods shuddered violently, and then, with a bone-jarring thud, they struck the earth.

Darkness.

Elys came to with a sharp gasp, his body aching from the impact. The pod's restraints released, and he collapsed to the ground, blinking against the sudden light. His ears rang, but slowly, sounds filtered in—the distant calls of strange creatures, the rustle of wind through the trees, and, closer, the groans and shouts of the other survivors.

He pushed himself up and staggered out of the pod, emerging into the open air for the first time. The forest around them was alive, teeming with unfamiliar sights and sounds. Massive trees towered above them, their bark blackened and gnarled, while luminous flowers glowed faintly in the underbrush. A thick green mist curled around their feet, swirling lazily in the dawn light.

It was nothing like the barren wasteland he'd imagined.

"Everyone, gather up!" Reyna's voice rang out, and Elys turned to see the Pilot Commander standing atop a nearby rock. Even disheveled and bruised from the landing, she exuded an air of authority that drew the others to her. "Check for injuries and supplies. We need to secure the area and establish a perimeter."

As the other Exiles began to organize, Elys drifted away, drawn by a strange, almost magnetic pull. Something in the air felt… off. He pushed through the underbrush, the green mist thickening around him. It seemed to whisper, beckoning him deeper.

Then he saw it.

Half-buried in the soft earth, hidden among the roots of a twisted tree, lay a small, metallic syringe. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen—sleek and silver, with a single drop of inky black liquid suspended inside. The moment he laid eyes on it, a chill ran down his spine.

"What is this?" he murmured, reaching out cautiously. His fingers brushed the syringe, and a shock of energy jolted up his arm. He jerked back, heart pounding.

Something in the black liquid moved.

"Cain!" A voice barked behind him, and he turned to see Reyna approaching, her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Elys stammered, shoving the syringe into his pocket. "Just… scouting."

Reyna's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, sharp and assessing. But then she sighed, glancing around the eerie, mist-filled forest. "Stay close. This place isn't safe."

He nodded, but as they turned back toward the clearing, Elys's thoughts raced. What had he found? And why did it feel like it was calling to him?

The camp settled in uneasy silence. As the sun rose higher, the strange storms in the distance began to churn, their green cores flaring with bursts of energy. Elys watched them warily. There was something almost… alive about the way they moved.

"What do you think caused them?" he murmured to Tori, one of the Exiles from the Raven Tribe, as she tightened the makeshift perimeter with strands of scavenged wire.

She shrugged, her dark hair falling across her eyes. "Who knows? Maybe it's the radiation. They said Earth was poisoned."

But Elys wasn't so sure. Radiation didn't move like that. And then there were the stories—whispers passed down through the Tribes, of creatures that roamed the surface, of monstrous beings that could withstand the worst of the fallout. The Grounders, they called them.

But those were just stories. Weren't they?

"Eyes up!" Reyna's sharp command broke through his thoughts. Elys snapped his gaze to the treeline, heart lurching. A figure stood there, half-hidden in the shadows. Tall and silent, its form shrouded in the mist.

A Grounder.

The figure moved, stepping out of the shadows. Elys caught a glimpse of something—dark eyes, a scarred face—and then it was gone, melting back into the forest like smoke.

"What the hell was that?" Elys murmured, his hand brushing against the syringe in his pocket. A chill settled over him as the green mist thickened around their camp, creeping closer.

But one thing was certain.

They weren't alone.