Octavia Blake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
okteiviakom) wrote2020-06-08 05:37 pm
okteiviakom) wrote2020-06-08 05:37 pm
The Bunker and Elsewhere, Monday FT
They'd been down in the bunker for six years. They'd made it past the dark year, and although it had left many wounds that had never properly healed, they had survived it. The ground was supposed to be survivable again, by now. They hadn't found a way out of the bunker yet, but Wonkru was alive.
And that was enough.
There had been no more Osleya for many years, by this time. They called her Blodreina now. Because that was who she was now. The red queen. Octavia had pushed all her personal wants (dreams, hopes) aside and focused on keeping Wonkru going, making them strong, making sure they'd be ready if -- when they made it back to the ground.
Her focus was laser-sharp, and unyielding.
(Because it was all she had.)
Niylah's locket was still around her neck, but her bracelet lay abandoned in one of the drawers of her desk. Nou finrona nowe, jos Blodreina. She had armor that had been made especially for her. Parts of it had been dyed red, to recall the blood of Wonkru's enemies.
The bunker had no commander. It had her, sitting on her throne at the highest spot overlooking the arena, overlooking the fights. Wearing her red war paint, because every fighter in the pit had committed an act of war against Wonkru. And today?
Kane was down there.
Someone had stolen medicine, and Kane had confessed. Only, Octavia was sure it hadn't actually been him. She suspected Abby, who'd become increasingly erratic and unstable over the past couple of years, but she had no proof. And so Kane was down there in the arena with the rest of them. The onlookers were already roaring for blood, rattling the metal fencing that separated them from the fighters. Standing next to Octavia's throne, Gaia quieted them by raising her hand.
It was the same speech every time, but they listened in silence.
"Each of these four combatants have committed crimes against Wonkru. They are our enemies: traitors to our people, traitors to our code of strength, unity, and honor."
Kane was staring up at Octavia.
She stared back down.
"But today one of you will be given a chance to once again be called brother or sister," Gaia continued. "However, first, you must survive. The only rule in this arena is 'be the last'." The audience rattled the fences once more. "As always, as we invite death into this hall, we honor it."
She bowed her head, and so did everyone else, on both sides of the fencing.
(Except Octavia. Except Kane.)
"Omon gon oson," Gaia said, and it echoed in solemn murmurs from the gathered crowd. Then: "Be the last."
And the fight began, three of the combatants rushing to grab weapons from the racks on each side of the arena. Except Kane, who grabbed a shield. Octavia had to hand it to him, he did well for a while. But then two of the others had been slain, and he was left with a man bigger than himself, wielding a vicious hammer with a sharpened handle.
And Kane had to make the choice.
After a long hesitation, he made the right one, grabbing an ax to slash at the man with, then finishing the job with the man's own hammer. Once his skull had cracked, the last couple of desperate blows were unnecessary. No one in the bunker was exempt from the violence, from the fight for survival. Not even Kane, much as he'd liked to pretend otherwise, for years. He gave in, and was one of them.
But the crowd was booing him, unsatisfied with his victory, because he wasn't triumphant. Because he was devastated.
"He's losing them," Indra noted in a lowered voice.
"Marcus Kane," Gaia called down, "in stealing life-giving medicine from Wonkru, you have committed a crime against our people. But, you are the last." She turned towards Octavia. "Has he earned his freedom, Blodreina?"
Octavia looked around at the audience. Felt their disappointment, their dissatisfaction.
Slowly, she rose from her throne.
"No," she said, already turning to leave. "He fights again tomorrow."
The crowd erupted into a roar of approval.
-----
The next day, Octavia went down to Kane's cell as the Wonkru anthem was being sung in anticipation of the fight to come. Years ago, the opening line had stung her every time for a reason she'd never explained to anyone - 'deimeika gonot, 'the sun was gone' - but not anymore. She'd buried her hurt, her longing, her feelings.
Nou natshana nowe, jos Blodreina.
She barely heard the song. Just stepped into Kane's cell, focused on the moment at hand. She found him sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. "You could have walked away with your freedom yesterday," she told him evenly. "You had the crowd on your side, but you lost them when you showed weakness." She moved to sit down at the other end of the bench. "I know you didn't steal the medicine, Kane," she rasped. "Admit it. Tell me who took it, and I'll let you go. Only the guilty should fight in the arena."
"We're all guilty."
Of course. Octavia suppressed a sigh. "I'm not here for a philosophy lesson, Kane. I'm here to give you a second chance."
"And I'm offering you the same," he said, and Octavia's brow knitted together. "You kept us together, Octavia. It's true. Wonkru's strong. We could have torn ourselves apart during the dark year."
"One more word about the dark year," Octavia replied, immediately, with an inadvertent shudder that she hoped he didn't catch, "and I will put you in the arena, even if you tell the truth. You know the law."
"I won't fight."
She let that sit there for a second.
"Then you die."
She made it into the doorway before he spoke again.
"You lost your way." She stopped but didn't turn. "We all have. I've been quiet too long. You think the arena delivers justice?"
She looked over her shoulder. "I know it does."
He'd stood up, and now he was coming closer. "Your mother -- Your mother was floated for having a second child, for having you. I was party to that and so much more." Did he want her to throw him in the arena with someone she knew he wouldn't be able to beat? But he was still going. "We have a chance to do something better here. We're throwing it away. Octavia, please. Strength without mercy is nothing. It's nothing, but you can end it. You can save us. It's not too late."
Suddenly, there were so many things Octavia wanted to say.
But all she managed to put into words was, "Tell me who stole the medicine, Kane."
But he didn't.
"So be it."
-----
When it came time to pick a weapon, he refused. Not even a shield, this time. His opponent took a few swipes at him, but seemed too hesitant, too weak to end the life of an unarmed man who wouldn't even defend himself. By the time Kane started giving a speech to the crowd, something about how they'd allowed darkness to rise, Octavia rose from her throne and made her way down to the arena itself.
The other man knelt and bowed his head as soon as she was in front of them.
"You are Wonkru, or you are the enemy of Wonkru. Choose."
Kane stayed on his feet. "I already have."
So be it. Octavia turned, and grabbed a sword from the rack. Then turned again, and kicked Kane in the chest, sending him toppling backwards onto the floor. She kicked at his leg as he lay there. "Get up!" she snapped, but even as she circled him, he didn't. "Come on, Kane. Where is your survival instinct?"
"Saving my people," he said, sounding winded, as he pushed himself a little more upright, "is about more than keeping them alive." How dare he look at her like that, here, with -- kindness in his eyes? "It's not too late."
Octavia's jaw clenched. "For you, it is."
She drew her sword back, ready for a killing blow -- and then the whole room seemed to shake. A loud noise, like something crumbling, came from above them. And then debris began falling from the ceiling.
And then, a stream of sunlight, bright enough to feel blinding to eyes that hadn't seen it in six years.
Indra yelled for the guards to clear the arena, to take the prisoners to their cells. Then she grabbed Octavia, dragging her back, away from where the center of the ceiling was still caving in, coming down in pieces. Octavia shook Indra's hands off herself, still staring up into the light, trying to understand what she was seeing. A figure rappelled down on a rope, and for a long moment he was nothing more than a silhouette of a man. It was only once his feet hit the floor that Octavia could make out his face.
And she staggered forward. He was older, and bearded, but she would've recognized him anywhere, at any age. The sword fell from her grasp, and she rushed to embrace him.
Bellamy.
Her big brother had come back for her, and for just a moment, Blodreina fell away as she clung to him.
-----
The joy and relief were only momentary.
Bellamy wasn't alone. He was soon followed by Clarke - and for all their differences, all their disagreements, Octavia was even glad to see her. But she was followed by two strangers. A woman, Colonel Diyoza, with a nasty scar on her neck, and a man, McCreary, who looked like trouble. They were apparently the rescue party.
Didn't explain why they were armed.
After introductions, Bellamy asked them how they'd do this. "Two at a time," Diyoza replied, and looked up at the gathered Wonkru still watching this through the fencing. "Why don't you people get your things, and we'll get started as soon as we're ready topside?"
No one moved before Octavia had looked up and given them a small nod. It seemed to unsettle Diyoza. Good.
"Exactly how many people should we be prepping for extraction?" McCreary wondered with his own look around.
Bellamy answer was far too immediate, sounded far too sure. "Twelve hundred."
"Eight hundred and fourteen," Octavia said. She ignored Bellamy's surprised look. There was a notebook in her office, if he didn't trust her math.
She'd written down every last name.
-----
Octavia was the first to be lifted out of the bunker. Bellamy secured the harness on her, and up into the light she went while Gaia led the bunker mantra with the members of Wonkru waiting for extraction. Kom folau oso na gyon op. They were finally rising from the ashes.
The sun felt odd on her skin, the air felt odd in her lungs, and Octavia's eyes took a while to adjust to how bright it was, outside. Once they had, though, she could see the ruins of Polis. Some of the buildings looked surprisingly intact. Even half the tower still stood, but most of it was little more than rubble and debris around the entrance to the bunker. But she also saw a space ship, on the ground not very far at all. GAGARIN PRISONER TRANSPORT. Guess that explained the strangers who were helping her people now - and who were milling about the ruins of Polis.
There were a lot more of them than just Diyoza, McCreary, and the people manning extraction operation.
-----
Bellamy wanted to talk to her in private. It was odd to her, unfamiliar after all these years, to have someone so casually tell her to give them a second, then follow them. She'd been Blodreina for many years now. People in the bunker knew better than to order her around. But she followed him into one of the buildings. Found him leaning against a table, his arms crossed. Every inch the concerned big brother, and yet she could no longer find any comfort in that.
Things had already shifted again.
"Blodreina," he said, "the red queen." So someone had already filled him in while they'd waited to get out. "Tell me about the fighting pit. How did that happen? Because it looks to me like someone read Ovid a few too many --"
Octavia cut him off. "Six years is a long time. Things have changed. I've changed."
His gaze dipped down to her armor. Red and black, tough leather. "We have a lot to talk about, O."
"We do," Octavia replied, and turned to look back towards the entrance, "just not right now. I don't trust these people, Bell. Who are they, where'd they come from? Why are they helping us?"
"I don't trust them either, okay?" Bellamy told her softly. "But I need you to trust me." Easier said than done. "We have leverage."
And that leverage turned out to be that there were 283 more prisoners in cryo sleep on their ship. And not the ship Octavia had seen on the ground. The Gagarin was just a transport dropship. Eligius IV was up in the sky - and Raven and Murphy were there, tapped into their system, ready to pull the plug on all of the people in cryo if the newcomers caused any trouble.
But there were bigger news. Six years ago, Clarke hadn't made it to the rocket with the others, and had instead had to survive down on the ground. Her synthetic Nightblood had kept the radiation from getting to her, but she'd still needed sustenance - and she'd found it in Shallow Valley. Because Shallow Valley had survived Praimfaya. It may well have been the last living valley on Earth.
It was Eden, and Bellamy had made a deal with Diyoza for them to share it equally.
-----
Things fell apart after nightfall. The newcomers opened fire. First just as a demonstration of their power, destroying a fountain. The Eligius had been a mining ship, and they had high-powered drill guns. When Bellamy tried to radio Raven, he was met with silence. Something had gone wrong. And the newcomers were taking Abby. In fact, Abby announced she'd go willingly - as long as she got to take Kane.
(Kane, who should've been laying dead on the floor of the arena even now. And yet there the traitor was, and Octavia was going to find out who'd sanctioned lifting him out of the bunker.)
"Here are my terms," Diyoza announced. "The valley is ours. Any attempt to get there will be met by overwhelming force. As long as you stay here, we won't have a problem." And just like that, they were leaving. Diyoza gave them the order to go, to follow her. There was one man, Szybunka, who was still aiming his drill gun where Octavia was standing, like he was itching to fire. Dioyza barked at him to follow her orders. He stood down, but he was still staring at Octavia.
Octavia smiled at him.
Seconds later the blast from the drill gun threw her several feet backwards onto concrete, knocking breath out of her, rattling her brain inside her skull. Her vision blurred, her ears were ringing, her chest hurt. Her head lolled to the side and she saw -- half of a mangled body. Someone from Wonkru had jumped in front of her, which was the only reason she wasn't just red mist now.
By the time the immediate effects wore off enough that Indra could drag her onto her feet, the Gagarin and its people had already lifted off. And Bellamy was looking at her with that useless sad look in his eyes.
"I trusted you," she spat out, still leaning heavily against Indra. "This is your fault."
He said nothing.
She hadn't expected anything more.
"Blodreina!" Miller called out from where he was tending to someone. "What do we do now?"
Octavia was sure he already knew the answer. They were going to do what they always did on the ground.
"Now, we go to war."
[ooc: NFB, NFI. Taken from The 100 S5 episode 4. Content warning for violence and gore. Listen to the Wonkru anthem here.]
And that was enough.
There had been no more Osleya for many years, by this time. They called her Blodreina now. Because that was who she was now. The red queen. Octavia had pushed all her personal wants (dreams, hopes) aside and focused on keeping Wonkru going, making them strong, making sure they'd be ready if -- when they made it back to the ground.
Her focus was laser-sharp, and unyielding.
(Because it was all she had.)
Niylah's locket was still around her neck, but her bracelet lay abandoned in one of the drawers of her desk. Nou finrona nowe, jos Blodreina. She had armor that had been made especially for her. Parts of it had been dyed red, to recall the blood of Wonkru's enemies.
The bunker had no commander. It had her, sitting on her throne at the highest spot overlooking the arena, overlooking the fights. Wearing her red war paint, because every fighter in the pit had committed an act of war against Wonkru. And today?
Kane was down there.
Someone had stolen medicine, and Kane had confessed. Only, Octavia was sure it hadn't actually been him. She suspected Abby, who'd become increasingly erratic and unstable over the past couple of years, but she had no proof. And so Kane was down there in the arena with the rest of them. The onlookers were already roaring for blood, rattling the metal fencing that separated them from the fighters. Standing next to Octavia's throne, Gaia quieted them by raising her hand.
It was the same speech every time, but they listened in silence.
"Each of these four combatants have committed crimes against Wonkru. They are our enemies: traitors to our people, traitors to our code of strength, unity, and honor."
Kane was staring up at Octavia.
She stared back down.
"But today one of you will be given a chance to once again be called brother or sister," Gaia continued. "However, first, you must survive. The only rule in this arena is 'be the last'." The audience rattled the fences once more. "As always, as we invite death into this hall, we honor it."
She bowed her head, and so did everyone else, on both sides of the fencing.
(Except Octavia. Except Kane.)
"Omon gon oson," Gaia said, and it echoed in solemn murmurs from the gathered crowd. Then: "Be the last."
And the fight began, three of the combatants rushing to grab weapons from the racks on each side of the arena. Except Kane, who grabbed a shield. Octavia had to hand it to him, he did well for a while. But then two of the others had been slain, and he was left with a man bigger than himself, wielding a vicious hammer with a sharpened handle.
And Kane had to make the choice.
After a long hesitation, he made the right one, grabbing an ax to slash at the man with, then finishing the job with the man's own hammer. Once his skull had cracked, the last couple of desperate blows were unnecessary. No one in the bunker was exempt from the violence, from the fight for survival. Not even Kane, much as he'd liked to pretend otherwise, for years. He gave in, and was one of them.
But the crowd was booing him, unsatisfied with his victory, because he wasn't triumphant. Because he was devastated.
"He's losing them," Indra noted in a lowered voice.
"Marcus Kane," Gaia called down, "in stealing life-giving medicine from Wonkru, you have committed a crime against our people. But, you are the last." She turned towards Octavia. "Has he earned his freedom, Blodreina?"
Octavia looked around at the audience. Felt their disappointment, their dissatisfaction.
Slowly, she rose from her throne.
"No," she said, already turning to leave. "He fights again tomorrow."
The crowd erupted into a roar of approval.
The next day, Octavia went down to Kane's cell as the Wonkru anthem was being sung in anticipation of the fight to come. Years ago, the opening line had stung her every time for a reason she'd never explained to anyone - 'deimeika gonot, 'the sun was gone' - but not anymore. She'd buried her hurt, her longing, her feelings.
Nou natshana nowe, jos Blodreina.
She barely heard the song. Just stepped into Kane's cell, focused on the moment at hand. She found him sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. "You could have walked away with your freedom yesterday," she told him evenly. "You had the crowd on your side, but you lost them when you showed weakness." She moved to sit down at the other end of the bench. "I know you didn't steal the medicine, Kane," she rasped. "Admit it. Tell me who took it, and I'll let you go. Only the guilty should fight in the arena."
"We're all guilty."
Of course. Octavia suppressed a sigh. "I'm not here for a philosophy lesson, Kane. I'm here to give you a second chance."
"And I'm offering you the same," he said, and Octavia's brow knitted together. "You kept us together, Octavia. It's true. Wonkru's strong. We could have torn ourselves apart during the dark year."
"One more word about the dark year," Octavia replied, immediately, with an inadvertent shudder that she hoped he didn't catch, "and I will put you in the arena, even if you tell the truth. You know the law."
"I won't fight."
She let that sit there for a second.
"Then you die."
She made it into the doorway before he spoke again.
"You lost your way." She stopped but didn't turn. "We all have. I've been quiet too long. You think the arena delivers justice?"
She looked over her shoulder. "I know it does."
He'd stood up, and now he was coming closer. "Your mother -- Your mother was floated for having a second child, for having you. I was party to that and so much more." Did he want her to throw him in the arena with someone she knew he wouldn't be able to beat? But he was still going. "We have a chance to do something better here. We're throwing it away. Octavia, please. Strength without mercy is nothing. It's nothing, but you can end it. You can save us. It's not too late."
Suddenly, there were so many things Octavia wanted to say.
But all she managed to put into words was, "Tell me who stole the medicine, Kane."
But he didn't.
"So be it."
When it came time to pick a weapon, he refused. Not even a shield, this time. His opponent took a few swipes at him, but seemed too hesitant, too weak to end the life of an unarmed man who wouldn't even defend himself. By the time Kane started giving a speech to the crowd, something about how they'd allowed darkness to rise, Octavia rose from her throne and made her way down to the arena itself.
The other man knelt and bowed his head as soon as she was in front of them.
"You are Wonkru, or you are the enemy of Wonkru. Choose."
Kane stayed on his feet. "I already have."
So be it. Octavia turned, and grabbed a sword from the rack. Then turned again, and kicked Kane in the chest, sending him toppling backwards onto the floor. She kicked at his leg as he lay there. "Get up!" she snapped, but even as she circled him, he didn't. "Come on, Kane. Where is your survival instinct?"
"Saving my people," he said, sounding winded, as he pushed himself a little more upright, "is about more than keeping them alive." How dare he look at her like that, here, with -- kindness in his eyes? "It's not too late."
Octavia's jaw clenched. "For you, it is."
She drew her sword back, ready for a killing blow -- and then the whole room seemed to shake. A loud noise, like something crumbling, came from above them. And then debris began falling from the ceiling.
And then, a stream of sunlight, bright enough to feel blinding to eyes that hadn't seen it in six years.
Indra yelled for the guards to clear the arena, to take the prisoners to their cells. Then she grabbed Octavia, dragging her back, away from where the center of the ceiling was still caving in, coming down in pieces. Octavia shook Indra's hands off herself, still staring up into the light, trying to understand what she was seeing. A figure rappelled down on a rope, and for a long moment he was nothing more than a silhouette of a man. It was only once his feet hit the floor that Octavia could make out his face.
And she staggered forward. He was older, and bearded, but she would've recognized him anywhere, at any age. The sword fell from her grasp, and she rushed to embrace him.
Bellamy.
Her big brother had come back for her, and for just a moment, Blodreina fell away as she clung to him.
The joy and relief were only momentary.
Bellamy wasn't alone. He was soon followed by Clarke - and for all their differences, all their disagreements, Octavia was even glad to see her. But she was followed by two strangers. A woman, Colonel Diyoza, with a nasty scar on her neck, and a man, McCreary, who looked like trouble. They were apparently the rescue party.
Didn't explain why they were armed.
After introductions, Bellamy asked them how they'd do this. "Two at a time," Diyoza replied, and looked up at the gathered Wonkru still watching this through the fencing. "Why don't you people get your things, and we'll get started as soon as we're ready topside?"
No one moved before Octavia had looked up and given them a small nod. It seemed to unsettle Diyoza. Good.
"Exactly how many people should we be prepping for extraction?" McCreary wondered with his own look around.
Bellamy answer was far too immediate, sounded far too sure. "Twelve hundred."
"Eight hundred and fourteen," Octavia said. She ignored Bellamy's surprised look. There was a notebook in her office, if he didn't trust her math.
She'd written down every last name.
Octavia was the first to be lifted out of the bunker. Bellamy secured the harness on her, and up into the light she went while Gaia led the bunker mantra with the members of Wonkru waiting for extraction. Kom folau oso na gyon op. They were finally rising from the ashes.
The sun felt odd on her skin, the air felt odd in her lungs, and Octavia's eyes took a while to adjust to how bright it was, outside. Once they had, though, she could see the ruins of Polis. Some of the buildings looked surprisingly intact. Even half the tower still stood, but most of it was little more than rubble and debris around the entrance to the bunker. But she also saw a space ship, on the ground not very far at all. GAGARIN PRISONER TRANSPORT. Guess that explained the strangers who were helping her people now - and who were milling about the ruins of Polis.
There were a lot more of them than just Diyoza, McCreary, and the people manning extraction operation.
Bellamy wanted to talk to her in private. It was odd to her, unfamiliar after all these years, to have someone so casually tell her to give them a second, then follow them. She'd been Blodreina for many years now. People in the bunker knew better than to order her around. But she followed him into one of the buildings. Found him leaning against a table, his arms crossed. Every inch the concerned big brother, and yet she could no longer find any comfort in that.
Things had already shifted again.
"Blodreina," he said, "the red queen." So someone had already filled him in while they'd waited to get out. "Tell me about the fighting pit. How did that happen? Because it looks to me like someone read Ovid a few too many --"
Octavia cut him off. "Six years is a long time. Things have changed. I've changed."
His gaze dipped down to her armor. Red and black, tough leather. "We have a lot to talk about, O."
"We do," Octavia replied, and turned to look back towards the entrance, "just not right now. I don't trust these people, Bell. Who are they, where'd they come from? Why are they helping us?"
"I don't trust them either, okay?" Bellamy told her softly. "But I need you to trust me." Easier said than done. "We have leverage."
And that leverage turned out to be that there were 283 more prisoners in cryo sleep on their ship. And not the ship Octavia had seen on the ground. The Gagarin was just a transport dropship. Eligius IV was up in the sky - and Raven and Murphy were there, tapped into their system, ready to pull the plug on all of the people in cryo if the newcomers caused any trouble.
But there were bigger news. Six years ago, Clarke hadn't made it to the rocket with the others, and had instead had to survive down on the ground. Her synthetic Nightblood had kept the radiation from getting to her, but she'd still needed sustenance - and she'd found it in Shallow Valley. Because Shallow Valley had survived Praimfaya. It may well have been the last living valley on Earth.
It was Eden, and Bellamy had made a deal with Diyoza for them to share it equally.
Things fell apart after nightfall. The newcomers opened fire. First just as a demonstration of their power, destroying a fountain. The Eligius had been a mining ship, and they had high-powered drill guns. When Bellamy tried to radio Raven, he was met with silence. Something had gone wrong. And the newcomers were taking Abby. In fact, Abby announced she'd go willingly - as long as she got to take Kane.
(Kane, who should've been laying dead on the floor of the arena even now. And yet there the traitor was, and Octavia was going to find out who'd sanctioned lifting him out of the bunker.)
"Here are my terms," Diyoza announced. "The valley is ours. Any attempt to get there will be met by overwhelming force. As long as you stay here, we won't have a problem." And just like that, they were leaving. Diyoza gave them the order to go, to follow her. There was one man, Szybunka, who was still aiming his drill gun where Octavia was standing, like he was itching to fire. Dioyza barked at him to follow her orders. He stood down, but he was still staring at Octavia.
Octavia smiled at him.
Seconds later the blast from the drill gun threw her several feet backwards onto concrete, knocking breath out of her, rattling her brain inside her skull. Her vision blurred, her ears were ringing, her chest hurt. Her head lolled to the side and she saw -- half of a mangled body. Someone from Wonkru had jumped in front of her, which was the only reason she wasn't just red mist now.
By the time the immediate effects wore off enough that Indra could drag her onto her feet, the Gagarin and its people had already lifted off. And Bellamy was looking at her with that useless sad look in his eyes.
"I trusted you," she spat out, still leaning heavily against Indra. "This is your fault."
He said nothing.
She hadn't expected anything more.
"Blodreina!" Miller called out from where he was tending to someone. "What do we do now?"
Octavia was sure he already knew the answer. They were going to do what they always did on the ground.
"Now, we go to war."
[ooc: NFB, NFI. Taken from The 100 S5 episode 4. Content warning for violence and gore. Listen to the Wonkru anthem here.]