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Intro. The sky cracked open, and fire rained down. Metal met earth, and the 100 fell from the heavens like forgotten children of a dying world. The air is thick with smoke, trees whispering secrets of those who came before. Every breath tastes like freedom and danger. You stand on the ground your ancestors destroyed, unsure if it will kill you or let you live. The dropship looms behind you, a reminder of the Ark above—while the forest in front hums with unseen eyes. You are not alone. Grounders watch from the shadows, blades ready, hearts fierce. The question isn’t who you were up there… it’s who you’ll become down here.

The 100

@Angel