From now I will put no stuff on top and bottom of chapters, as it messes up the audio.
BOLD FOR GROUNDER LANGUAGE
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The afternoon sun hung low over the dense canopy of the Trikru forest, casting shadows across the moss-covered earth. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp soil, a primal perfume that had defined this land for nearly a century.
At the North Gate of the Trikru territory — a large structure reinforced with salvaged steel beams and heavy timber — two warriors stood watch. Or rather, they leaned.
Kael and Jora were seasoned fighters, men who had seen the bloodiest days of the clan wars. They bore the scars of skirmishes with Azgeda and the burns of the Mountain Men's defenses. But today, their spears rested lazily against their shoulders, and their posture was relaxed, bordering on negligent.
"It's too quiet," Kael muttered, kicking a pebble across the dirt road. "I haven't stabbed anything in three weeks. My arm is forgetting how to thrust."
Jora chuckled, taking a bite of a dried apple slice. "You complain when we fight, you complain when we don't. You're just miserable, brother."
"I'm not miserable," Kael countered. "I'm a warrior. Warriors are supposed to war. This... this peace? It feels unnatural. It makes my skin itch."
Jora looked out at the empty road, his expression softening. "It feels good, Kael. Look at the village down the valley. Smoke from the chimneys. Children playing in the open without fear of Reapers or Acid Fog. The Commander, our Strat Heda, did this. No more senseless deaths. No more burying our sons because two chiefs couldn't agree on a hunting ground."
Kael sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders. "True. I never thought I'd see the day where I could sleep with both eyes closed. I wish we could live like this forever."
"Agreed, man," Jora nodded. "If boredom is the price of peace, I'll pay it."
Just then, a low, guttural rumble vibrated through the soles of their boots.
It wasn't the thunder of a storm, nor the stampede of a mutated horse herd. It was a mechanical growl, steady and rhythmic, getting louder by the second.
Kael straightened up instantly, gripping his spear. "Oi, get up. We got something approaching."
Jora dropped his apple and snapped into a defensive stance. "Reapers?"
"No," Kael squinted into the distance, where a cloud of dust was rising against the tree line.
The noise grew to a roar, and then, bursting from the shadows of the tree line, came the vehicle. It was the Rover — the sleek, armored beast of the Mountain, now repurposed. Its solar panels glinted in the sunlight, and its tires tore up the dirt road with aggressive purpose.
Kael's eyes widened, and then a grin split his face. He lowered his spear.
"It's him," Kael yelled, turning to the men atop the gate wall. "OPEN THE GATES! STRAT HEDA IS BACK!"
The cry went up the line like wildfire. "Strat Heda! The Commander returns!"
The massive timber gates groaned as the counterweights were released, swinging open to welcome the vehicle. As the rover slowed down to pass through the checkpoint, the warriors didn't just stand at attention; they cheered. It wasn't the forced cheering of conscripts fearing a tyrant; it was the raucous, genuine celebration of men welcoming home a brother.
Inside the rover, Raven sat in the passenger seat, her eyes wide as she took in the scene.
She watched the warriors — people she had been told were savages, bloodthirsty killers — raising their fists in joy, smiling, and chanting Mike's title.
"They sure love you," Raven said, her voice tinged with disbelief. "I thought Grounders only respected strength. This looks like... affection."
Mike, one hand casually on the steering wheel, glanced at the cheering men and gave them a nod of acknowledgment.
"I did kind of help end the constant wars between the twelve clans," Mike said with a shrug, as if he were discussing fixing a leaky faucet. "People tend to like it when their children stop dying."
"Fair," Raven admitted. She looked back at the closing gates as they sped up again. The reality of her situation was settling in. She was on the ground. She was breathing real air. And she was sitting next to the most powerful man on the continent.
But then, the image of the satellite maps of the island flashed in her mind. The Aztecs. The marching army. The steam engines.
"But..." Raven's voice dropped, becoming small and scared. "A bigger war is about to start, isn't it? All this peace... it's fragile."
Mike looked over at her. He saw the tension in her jaw, the way her hands were gripping the dashboard. He reached over and ruffled her hair, messing up her ponytail.
"Relax, Big Brains," he said, his voice carrying unshakable confidence. "I will protect you all. That's what I do."
Raven swatted his hand away, fixing her hair, but the knot in her chest loosened slightly. She rolled her eyes, her natural snark returning as a defense mechanism.
"Who the hell needs your help?" she scoffed. "I can manage it. I'm the smartest in space and on Earth."
"Sure, Big Brains," Mike laughed. "Keep telling yourself that."
He shifted gears, the rover accelerating smoothly. "Oh, and by the way. You are getting promoted."
Raven looked at him, confused. "Promoted? I don't even have a job yet. I'm just... the girl you kidnapped."
"You're not a prisoner, Raven. You're an asset," Mike corrected. "And you'll see what I mean when we reach Polis."
"Polis?" Raven tasted the word. "The capital?"
"Yeah," Mike grinned. "You've never been to a real city, have you? Don't worry. It's a fun place to be. A little rustic, but it has character."
The journey to Mount Weather continued. Mike decided to park the rover in the mountain's underground garage — it was the safest place for high-tech equipment, protected by the heavy blast doors and the few remaining loyal guards he had stationed there. The last thing he needed was a curious villager accidentally driving the solar-powered tank into a river.
From the Mountain, they took horses.
Raven was less graceful on a horse than she was in the rover. She spent the first hour gripping the mane of her mare for dear life, bouncing awkwardly in the saddle while Mike rode with the fluid ease of a centaur. But as the miles turned into hours, she began to look around.
The world was green. So incredibly green. The trees were massive and blocked out the sky.
They crested a ridge, and the city of Polis sprawled out below them.
Raven pulled back on the reins, bringing her horse to a halt. Her breath hitched in her throat.
"Whoa," she whispered.
She had read stories about cities back on the Ark. She had seen low-resolution pictures in history books. But looking at it with her own eyes was a visceral experience.
Polis rose from the ruins of a pre-war metropolis, but it had been transformed. The centerpiece was the Tower — a massive skyscraper that had survived the bombs, standing defiant against the sky. Around it, the Grounders had built a sprawling network of stone and timber structures. Smoke rose from thousands of hearths. Banners of the twelve clans snapped in the wind from the rooftops.
It was chaotic, organic, and beautiful.
"It's... huge," Raven said, her eyes wide with awe. "There must be thousands of people down there."
"Tens of thousands," Mike corrected, guiding his horse up beside hers. "It's the heart of the Coalition. Come on. They're waiting for us."
As they descended into the city, the atmosphere shifted from the quiet of the forest to the roar of civilization.
The streets were paved with cleared cobblestones and packed earth. Market stalls lined the main thoroughfare, selling everything from roasted meats and fresh vegetables to intricate metalwork and furs. The smell was overwhelming — a mix of woodsmoke, spices, unwashed bodies, and horse manure — but to Raven, who had lived her life breathing recycled air, it was intoxicatingly alive.
And then there were the people.
As Mike rode through the gates, a hush fell over the crowd, followed immediately by a wave of murmurs that swelled into greetings.
"Heda!"
"It's Strat Heda, stupid."
"The Blade-De-Trikru returns!"
Warriors bowed their heads in deep respect. Merchants stopped their haggling to wave. Women held up their babies to see him.
They dismounted near the market square to walk the rest of the way to the Tower. Raven stuck close to Mike, feeling small in the sea of leather and metal.
But what shocked her most wasn't the city; it was Mike.
A group of children, playing with wooden swords, spotted him. Instead of running away from the terrifying warlord, they ran toward him.
"Strat Heda! Strat Heda!" a little boy with a gap-toothed smile yelled, tugging on Mike's cape. "Did you bring the metal bird?"
Mike laughed. He reached down and scooped the boy up onto his shoulder effortlessly.
"Not today, little warrior," Mike said, grinning at the kid. "The metal bird is sleeping. But I see you've been practicing your footwork. You're faster than last time."
The boy beamed with pride. "I am! I'm going to be a Second soon!"
"Good," Mike said, setting him down gently. "Keep training. I need strong warriors."
He ruffled the kid's hair and continued walking. He stopped to nod at an old blacksmith, exchanged a brief greeting with a fruit vendor, and acknowledged every bow with a nod of his own.
Raven watched all of this with her mouth slightly open. She found herself smiling, despite her anxiety.
He's not just a leader, she thought. He's a fixture. He's safe. They look at him, and they feel safe.
Back on the Ark, Jaha was distant. The Council was feared. But here? Mike was loved. It was a strange, confusing, and undeniably impressive sight.
They reached the base of the Commander's Tower. The elite guards snapped to attention, slamming their fists against their chests.
"Strat Heda," the captain of the guard said, bowing low.
"At ease," Mike said. "Are Lexa and Anya here?"
"The Commander is in the upper sanctum," the guard replied. "Anya kom Trikru has gone down to the lower district."
Mike nodded. "Good. Let's go."
He led Raven inside. The interior of the tower was a blend of old-world corporate architecture and tribal aesthetic. The elevators were gone, replaced by a spiraling staircase adorned with candles and trophies of war.
They climbed. Raven's legs were burning by the time they reached the top floor.
They stood before the massive double doors of the throne room. Mike didn't wait for the guards to announce him. He winked at Raven, raised his hand, and knocked.
From inside, a voice rang out. It was strong, authoritative, and instantly recognizable.
"Who is it?"
Mike smiled, his face softening in a way Raven hadn't seen before.
"It's me," he called out. "Your humble husband."
He pushed the doors open dramatically, stepping into the room with his arms wide.
The room was bathed in the warm glow of hundreds of candles. At the far end, sitting at a table covered in maps, was Lexa.
She looked up, her green eyes widening. The mask of the Commander — the stoic, unfeeling Heda — shattered instantly.
"Mike!"
Lexa abandoned her dignity. She practically vaulted over the table and ran across the room. She jumped, wrapping her legs around his waist and burying her face in his neck.
"I missed you," she mumbled into his shoulder, her voice muffled but fierce.
Mike laughed, wrapping his arms around her tightly, spinning her around once. "I missed you too, Lexa."
He kissed her forehead, then set her down gently, though he kept an arm around her waist, pulling her close.
Raven stood in the doorway, feeling like a massive third wheel. She awkwardly scuffed her boot on the floor.
Mike looked around the room. "Where is Anya? The guard said she was out."
Lexa sighed, leaning into his touch. "She went down to the city. Just to walk around. I had to practically force her out the door. She's been stressing over the harvest reports and the integration of the Ice Nation scouts. She never takes it easy when you aren't here to tell her to relax."
"Yeah, sounds like her," Mike chuckled. "Workaholic."
Raven cleared her throat loudly. "Ahem."
Lexa and Mike turned. Lexa blinked, as if noticing Raven for the first time. Her eyes narrowed instantly, the 'Heda' mask slipping back into place.
"Umm," Raven said, waving awkwardly. "Why am I here exactly?"
Mike squeezed Lexa's waist. "Oh, yeah. Introductions."
He gestured to the mechanic. "Lexa, this is Raven. She fell from the sky a little early. Raven, this is Lexa from Trikru, the Commander of the Coalition. And my wife."
Lexa stepped out of Mike's embrace, her posture shifting to one of regal command. She looked Raven up and down, assessing her as a threat.
"A girl from Skykru?" Lexa stated coolly. "You brought a Sky Person into the sacred tower?"
"She's not just a Sky Person," Mike said, his voice turning serious. "She's... essential."
Lexa turned her gaze to Mike, an eyebrow raised. "And what is she doing here? We have enough mouths to feed."
Mike took a deep breath. He walked over to the table of maps and leaned against it.
"Well," Mike said, looking between the two powerful women. "She is going to be the leader of our Cyber and Tech Command."
The silence in the room was absolute.
Lexa stared at him. Raven stared at him.
"What?" both of them said at the exact same time.
Lexa looked confused. "Cyber... Command? These are words of the Mountain, Mike. We are warriors."
Raven looked terrified. "Leader? I thought I was just the mechanic!"
Mike sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He tapped his temple, silently signaling M.A.I. to bring up the holographic display files on his gauntlet for later.
"We have a lot to talk about," Mike said grimly. "The world is changing, Lexa. And if we don't change with it... We're going to burn."
He motioned for them to sit at the table.
"Grab a chair, Raven. Class is in session."