The air was different.

Sharp. Real. Heavy with the scent of soil, moss, and rain—an intoxicating contrast to the sterile hum of recycled air on the Ark. The moment the drop ship doors creaked open, sunlight pierced through the darkness, cutting across soot and smoke like a divine blade.
Earth.

The landing had not been kind. Metal was twisted, the floor scorched, a few restraints failed—blood had been spilled before the doors even opened. Some of the 100 stumbled out coughing, dazed, or sprinted past each other in euphoric panic. Others stayed inside, still strapped in, unwilling to believe the nightmare of the fall was over.

Birds sang from somewhere deep in the forest. Trees stretched toward the heavens—tall, ancient, whispering in a tongue none of them understood.

And the sky… was blue.
Real blue.

“We’re not alone.”

That much became clear as the hours passed. A broken wristband here, a missing body there. Shadows beyond the tree line. Unfamiliar symbols carved into bark. Traps, maybe. Warnings. Watching eyes.

They had been sent to die. But maybe Earth had other plans.



Meanwhile, aboard The Ark—

Alarms blared through the corridors of Alpha Station as families gathered at viewing ports, searching for the falling flame that carried their children. Some wept. Some cursed. Others simply watched in silence. The Chancellor and Council stood grim-faced behind closed doors, waiting for data that had yet to arrive.

No contact. No signal. No confirmation.
Just silence.

They had played their hand. Now they waited to see if Earth would swallow their sins... or forgive them.

And beyond the trees, in the shadows—

The forest breathed around them. Warriors cloaked in bark and bone knelt beneath the watchful gaze of their commander, having seen the sky-burner fall. The Trikru were not the only clan who had seen it. Others would come. The old laws would be tested.

Sebastian Elias Cole

---

The pod hit the ground harder than he expected.

It wasn’t like a smooth landing or even something controlled. It felt like crashing into the planet itself—metal grinding, bolts rattling, the whole ship screaming like it was being torn in half. Sebastian held tight to the straps across his chest, eyes shut, jaw clenched. Around him, people were yelling some cursing, others shouting in fear—but all of it passed over him like static.

He didn’t speak. He never did. And there wasn’t anything to say anyway.

Then it was over. The ship shuddered one last time and came to a stop. Smoke filled the cabin. Lights flickered and buzzed above. For a moment, everything was quiet.

Sebastian opened his eyes.

The air inside the pod was heavy, hot. It smelled like sweat, burning plastic, and something sharp he couldn’t place, He unbuckled himself, fingers moving automatically. His hands were steady even if his stomach wasn’t. It wasn’t fear—at least not exactly. It was something tighter. Like the space behind his ribs was bracing for whatever came next.

He stood slowly. His legs felt weird, like gravity was pulling harder than usual. He waited a second, adjusting. Then he moved down the narrow walkway, stepping over loose straps and dropped gear. Someone’s shoe was lying halfway under a bench. No one seemed to care.

The ramp creaked.

It was slow, loud. Rusted hydraulics groaned as the door cracked open and blinding light spilled through the gap. Not artificial light. Real light. Sunlight.

He squinted, bringing a hand up to shield his face.

Wind rushed in next, warm and thick, carrying smells that didn’t exist on the Ark. Dirt. Leaves. Water. Life. It hit him all at once.

He stepped forward.

Outside, the ground was uneven and soft. His boots sank slightly into the soil. For a second he just stood there at the edge of the ramp, breathing in the air like he didn’t trust it. The sky looked too open. The trees too tall. Everything too alive.

He blinked and looked down.

His shadow stretched out in front of him—real, clear, sharp-edged in the afternoon sun. It moved when he moved. It felt strange, like he was suddenly part of something bigger, something permanent.

He took another step. Then another.

His hand dropped to the side of his pack, fingers brushing the canvas, checking the weight like he always did. Inside were the things that mattered: his notebook, some salvaged tools, the scrap of fabric he never talked about. All quiet. All familiar.

He didn’t look back at the pod.

Whatever he’d been up there, it didn’t matter now.

This was Earth.

He was here.

And he didn’t need a voice to survive it.

---

---

The moment the restraints hissed open and the gravity of landing finally settled into her chest, Rhea moved. Fast. She unlatched the belt across her hips, shoved past a dazed kid still whimpering from the drop, and shouldered open the nearest hatch—heat from the scorched metal biting into her palms as she braced herself.

The scent hit her first.
Earth.

Not clean, filtered Ark-air, but something raw and green and alive. Rich like rust and wildflowers. Her nose wrinkled as she breathed it in. It wasn’t what she expected.
It was better.

She stepped onto the ramp just as the sun broke through the thinning smoke, catching in her fire-bright hair and turning the ash on her jacket gold. Rhea paused at the top, hands on her hips, chin tilted up like a queen surveying her ruined kingdom.

“Damn…” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. “It’s real.”

Her boots hit the dirt with a muffled crunch. Not metal. Not composite flooring. But Earth—damp and dense and shockingly warm beneath her. She crouched without thinking, running her fingers through it, the way some people touched silk. It was bizarre and coarse and beautiful.

Others poured out behind her—shouting, laughing, crying. Some collapsed. Others kissed the ground.

“Eyes up,” she said to no one in particular, brushing dirt from her hands as she stood tall again. “We’re not alone.”

Her gaze swept the horizon. Trees taller than the Ark’s towers loomed in every direction, shadows stretching long in the afternoon light. Somewhere in those shadows, she imagined a whisper—soft and sharp like flint against steel.

And for the first time in years..
She grinned.

“Let’s build something out of this mess.”

---

The calamity of what could only be called a controlled crash disoriented Hector far too much. Terrified yelps. brave hollers, and sickening metallic screeching gave him the most unsettling feeling in his stomach. Then again this space boy had never faced re-entry G's. He spat up some sick that leached up his throat as his nostrils picked up burned nanoplastics and fumes. The screeching soon turned into a thunderous roar then clash as the pod punched through the canopy of a pure forest.

For a brief moment he thought he was safe until the dirt proper slammed into the pod and his lumbar. The jolt of pain almost made him forget about the ensuing fires taking over the abritor heat shields.

The young man's bronze eyes opened to a smokey scene punctuated by shafts of sunlight blasting through the main ramp and damaged panels. Hector felt twice as heavy, his nose itched righteously, his skin felt, odd. Brows furrowed in confusion as he rubbed shivers out of his spine. The joly of re-entry must have dumped avlot of adrenaline into him. Thumbs found buckles and gravity took over as he stumped out of his throne like a decrepit lich. His ankles pattered and groaned under their new realm. then bumped into a not so lucky body. The squish and crimson pool below his toes said enough for the thief. This was real. Hec gulped, frantically looking around, another titanic groan came from above as its weight shifted.

He needed move and now.

He felt buzzed off crisis, in shock for sure. But habits are hard to break and his furtive gaze was already eying new toys to take. He and his dozens of fellows had a whole new planet brewed on bedtime stories to venture. And without any jurisdiction,.. Hector slapped a particular big bug off his neck. That was new; he starred at his hand in wonderment of what we would call a beetle. Voices of the more cognizant made his gaze flicker as he stepped out onto the main ramp with no worse for wear than a bruised tush and battered reality.

Hector was afraid, but also strangling brimming with anticipation and hope for a brave new world. A handful of delinquents were already milling about on the main exit. It was bright, and warm.

_______________________________________________
The landing pod shook Benjamin around, he gripped on to the straps and breathed, his face calm despite the chaos the pod was in. His vision blacked around the edges as the force of reentry hit his body full force, but he gripped on tighter, the few seconds feel like en eternity before the pod crashed through the thick foliage of the forest and lands onto the ground.

He swiftly unbuckles his belt and waits for everyone to get up, but most seem dazed and lost so he stands and walks to the doors with the few others ,who at least, appear ahold of their senses. His confident bulk cutting through the dazed crowd as he approached the doors, bright light edging it's way past the darkness of the pod.

He steps off the ramp and onto the soft ground, uncertain for a moment before taking a few more steps into the fresh air, before someone further ahead shouts, "eyes up, we are not alone."

He lifts his eyes to the trees and shrubs that surround the ship ready for a fight that seems not to come, only the buzzing of insects can be heard around him, along with the dazed people occupying the landing craft still. If you can call it a landing craft.

He steps up to the young woman who called out the warning, " so what's the plan boss lady, you seem like you have your senses about you. What's your name?"