Chapter 2: The First Breath
The dust in the dropship settled slowly, dancing in the dim emergency strobes. Julian was already on his feet, his hand resting on the back of his dented seat. His body felt... electric. The sharp pain in his ribs from the impact had already vanished, replaced by a warm, humming sensation that made him feel more awake than he'd ever been in his past life.
He looked at Octavia in the seat next to him. She was gasping for air, her eyes wide as she stared at the empty, shredded restraints where Julian's arms had been moments ago.
"You... you really broke them," she breathed, her voice shaking.
Julian didn't answer immediately. He looked at the heavy outer hatch just a few feet away on their level. He could hear the heavy thuds of the others jumping down from the upper decks, scrambling toward the exit.
"It's the adrenaline," Julian said, giving her a more human answer this time. He reached over and helped her steady herself. "Deep breaths, Octavia. We're on the ground."
"Octavia!"
A roar echoed from the ladder nearby. A man in a guard's jacket swings down from the upper level, his boots hitting the floor with a heavy metallic clang.
Bellamy Blake.
He didn't look at Julian at first. He threw his arms around his sister, pulling her into a fierce, desperate hug. Julian stepped back, giving them space. He watched the reunion, recognizing the raw emotion there. These weren't just characters; they were siblings who had risked everything just to be in the same room.
"I told you I'd find you," Bellamy whispered.
He pulled back, his eyes finally landing on Julian. He saw a kid his own age, but Julian wasn't shaking or celebrating. He stood with a calm, balanced weight, his eyes scanning the interior of the ship with a focus that was unsettling.
"Who are you?" Bellamy demanded, stepping slightly in front of Octavia.
"Julian Thorne," he replied. He kept his hands visible, not wanting to start a fight five minutes into landing. "I was sitting next to her. She's okay."
"The air might be toxic!"
The shout came from Clarke Griffin, who had just finished descending the ladder. She was pale, her eyes darting between the monitors and the door. "We don't know if it's safe! We need to wait!"
"We've waited a hundred years, Princess!" Bellamy countered, his hand already on the door's locking mechanism.
Julian felt a strange ripple through his nervous system, a warning, but not one of danger. It was an anticipation. His "Obsidian" blood seemed to be reaching for the outside world, sensing the radiation and the sun before the door even moved.
"Open it, Bellamy," Octavia said, her voice full of a longing that touched even Julian's distant heart.
Bellamy looked at Julian, a silent, questioning glance. Julian simply accepted once. "The air is fine. Better than fine."
Bellamy hauled on the lever.
The seal hissed, a long, agonizing sound of air equalizing and then the massive ramp lowered. Sunlight flooded the bottom deck, a brilliant, golden warmth that felt like a physical touch.
Octavia didn't wait. She ran down the disaster, her boots hitting the soil, and let out that cry that defined a generation: "We're back!"
The crowd erupted. A hundred teenagers surged past Julian, screaming and cheering as they ran into the tall grass. Julian stepped down the ramp last, his movements slow and deliberate.
The moment his boots touched the earth, the "hum" in his blood turned into a roar. It was like a cold engine finally getting fuel. The natural background radiation of the Earth was being absorbed by its cells.
He didn't join the party. He walked a few paces away from the ship, kneeling down to run his fingers through the dirt. It was cool, vapor, and smelled of life.
"Hey! You!"
Julian looked up. John Murphy was swaggering toward him, flanked by a couple of guys looking for trouble. Murphy wanted to be the alpha of this new world, and Julian's silence made him an easy target.
"What's the matter, Section One?" Murphy sneered, stepping closer into Julian's personal space. "Not man enough to join the fun?"
Julian stood up slowly. He was half a head taller than Murphy, and his eyes carried a weight that made the smaller boy's smirk falter. He didn't feel the need to argue. He didn't feel the need to prove anything. To Julian, Murphy wasn't a rival; he was a distraction.
"The 'fun' is loud, Murphy," Julian said, his voice quiet and level. He looked past the boy's shoulder, his gaze fixing on the dense treeline. "Loud things get noticed."
Murphy laughed, looking back at his friends. "Hear that? We got a philosopher among us. You afraid of the trees, Thorne?"
Julian didn't blink. He ignored the taunt, his enhanced vision catching a subtle shimmer of movement—a shadow that didn't move like a branch—deep in the brush a few hundred yards out. A Grounder scout. The "Pulse" at the base of his skull throbbed once, a cold warning that they were being measured.
He didn't tell Murphy. He didn't tell Bellamy. They wouldn't believe him, and panic was the last thing they needed before they even had a perimeter.
"Believe what you want," Julian said, his voice carrying a finality that ended the conversation.
He turned away, walking toward a stand of fallen timber near the edge of the clearing. He didn't want to lead them, but he wasn't going to die with them. He needed to find something heavy—something he could use to start marking a boundary.
Behind him, Octavia was watching him walk away. Her celebration was momentarily paused, her eyes lingering on the way Julian moved—not with the stumbling, wide-eyed wonder of the others, but with the calculated precision of someone walking into a cage match.
She looked toward the trees where he had been staring, seeing nothing but green. But for the first time since landing, a small shiver that had nothing to do with the wind ran down her spine.