From The Ashes | The 100 S5 [Bellarke]

|24| Doomsday

6 years and 9 days after Praimfaya

They were doomed.

Behind the walls of her room, Octavia didn't have to wear the mask of leadership. She could rage or weep in secret, and no one would know but the gray concrete barrier between her true emotions and the ones she showed to the world. This small space was her sanctuary, and in the six years underground, she hadn't let anyone into it – not even Indra.

Octavia sat on the edge of her narrow, metal-framed bed, her mind blank as she sharpened her sword with practiced ease. The soothing rasp of stone-on-steel smoothed the edges of her tangled, whirling thoughts . . . but only for a moment.

She couldn't hide from their fate.

Jeremy had let them go from the council room a few hours ago, the action and the crushed expression of defeat on his features proving that his actions had been unsuccessful.

"Does anyone else know you've killed us all?" Jaha had asked the rebel mechanic.

"No," Jeremy had said, his voice small. "Not yet."

Octavia saw the horror of his actions haunting the man in his crumpled posture and weary voice. He was a false savior, dooming his people instead of rescuing them. He'd given them hope only to smash it. The guilt he must certainly feel would keep him silent far longer than any logical reason ever would.

"Good," Jaha had said, turning his quiet fury off almost as quickly as it had arisen. "Make sure it stays that way."

But secrecy was a plan built for failure, and everyone knew it. The people would stay patient only so long if they continued in the belief that there was a way back to the ground, and drilling time excuses would stave off suspicion for a day at most.

Chaos would fall, and they had to be ready for it when it came.

Octavia slammed her blade back into the sheath across her back, tossing the sharpening stone onto the thin mattress behind her. Her jaw clenched in mingled fury and ruined hope as the weight of their situation lowered onto her shoulders once more.

A knock pulled Octavia from her dark thoughts, and she got to her feet. Graham looked up from the datapad he held in one hand when she opened the door, his green eyes meeting hers through the tangle of his ever-messy hair.

The quiet engineer had drifted in and out of Octavia's awareness during Wonkru's time in the bunker, and every encounter she'd had with him brought a surprise. Like when his momentary shutdown of all bunker power had been the turning point in the riots during those first days after Praimfaya. Or in the meeting a few months later when he'd defended her against Jaha, who'd been quietly lobbying for a second chance at being Chancellor.

"Please tell me you're here with some good news," Octavia said, a random wisp of curiosity brushing through her as she wondered why he was here with obvious information instead of calling for a council meeting.

"I wish I was," Graham replied somberly, reaching up with his free hand to brush his hair out of his eyes. "I asked Kane to gather the council for a briefing, but I thought you should know first."

Again, Octavia was surprised by Graham's actions. But the fact that he thought she needed to know whatever information he'd discovered first also sent a churning twist of dread into her stomach. They'd already been given a death sentence by Jeremy's destruction of their life support systems – what was worse than that?

"As soon as I got back to engineering," Graham said, glancing down at his datapad and scrolling through the illegible information on it that somehow he was able to comprehend, "I did a damage report and ran simulations based on our current system levels. And, well" – he inhaled sharply, glancing up at her – "the statistics aren't good . . . at all."