Ashes of the Future
Chapter 1 – The Fall
The impact hit harder than she expected.
A deafening metallic thud jarred every bone in Kira's body. The harness strapped across her chest snapped taut, nearly winding her. Cries rang out around her — some of shock, others of pain. The interior lights flickered violently, casting grotesque shadows across stunned, pale faces. Her seat groaned beneath her as gravity reeled, lost in the chaos of atmospheric reentry.
Kira blinked through the ache blossoming in her skull. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, every muscle clenched in fight-or-flight tension. Metal. She could smell it. Taste it. The air was dry and cold, pumped and artificial.
Her fingers curled around the harness straps, feeling the familiar tremor of adrenaline surge through her. Her thoughts caught up a half second later.
This wasn't a dream.
This was the dropship.
From The 100.
"No... no, no, no..." she murmured, her eyes locked on the cracked view screen beside her. Disbelief choked her like smoke. The reality of it slammed into her with more force than the landing.
She was here.
The dropship. The Ark uniforms. The criminal teenagers. The too-thin air. All of it was real.
And she was one of them.
One of the 100.
Her pulse thundered in her ears.
She hadn't asked for this. One moment she'd been on her couch, halfway through season two, a bag of sour gummies on her chest and a hoodie pulled over her eyes. Rain tapped on the window outside. Her dog snored next to her. And then — light.
Not blinding, not loud. Just… sudden.
And then weightlessness.
And now, this.
A dull groan drew her attention. Kids were starting to wake up. Jasper, Monty, Octavia. Even Clarke, rubbing her temple, looked younger in person. And Bellamy… God, the arrogance practically radiated off him even while seated. He hadn't even started his speech yet.
Kira swallowed, sitting straighter. She needed to orient herself — fast.
She clenched her fist.
Inventory.
A shimmer passed before her vision.
[Inventory Accessed]
[Storage Capacity: 5 Cubic Meters]
[Contents: Tactical knife, water filter, protein bars (12), medkit, solar charger, rope, sleeping bag, survival guide, compact tent, flint, change of clothes.]
A relieved exhale left her lips. Her cosmic perk had made it with her.
The inventory wasn't native to The 100. It had come with her, wherever she was from. She had no clue why she was transmigrated. There'd been no godly voice, no truck-kun, no dramatic backstory. Just light… and this second chance.
And then there was the other thing: her martial arts.
Years of it. Every afternoon spent in sweaty gyms. Black belts in two disciplines. Calloused knuckles and cracked ribs. She wasn't just a pretty face; she was trained. Capable. Dangerous when pushed.
It was funny, in a way. All those fights back home — the underground matches, the tournaments, the bar brawls — and now she was here, thrown into a show she knew too well.
She was done being just a spectator.
The dropship shuddered as the clamps hissed. The doors began to creak open.
Sunlight poured in.
The cheer that followed was infectious — even if it was short-sighted.
"Earth!" someone shouted.
Feet stampeded toward freedom.
Kira stayed put.
She watched them go. Finn, with his easy charm. Jasper, practically bouncing. Octavia, running with wide eyes like she'd been reborn.
She took her time. Adjusted the knife she'd discreetly clipped to her belt. Checked the straps on her boots. And when she finally stepped onto the soil, the breath caught in her throat.
It was… magnificent.
The trees. The wind. The dirt. The air was thick, real, earthy.
She tilted her head to the sky and let it sink in.
Earth.
The thing they had all dreamed about — it was hers now. A planet untouched by humanity in generations.
But also, a planet filled with enemies.
She remembered what came next. The first trip for supplies. The river. The bridge. The spear.
The Grounders.
And, eventually, Lexa.
Kira's chest tightened. She knew what would happen if she didn't intervene. She also knew too much to blindly copy canon.
This was a fragile timeline. One wrong move could collapse the story she once binge-watched into something unrecognizable.
The camp quickly descended into controlled chaos.
Controlled by Bellamy, that is.
He was already gathering support, using fear like a scalpel.
"No one has to listen to the Ark anymore," he declared loudly. "We're free."
Kira stood near a tree, watching, unimpressed. She'd seen better villains in her gym.
Clarke argued, of course. Her voice steady, determined. People weren't listening to her yet — but they would. Kira remembered how resourceful Clarke could be. She'd grow into something strong. Dangerous, even.
Kira kept her distance from both.
She had her own plans.
As night fell, she set up a small camp away from the others.
Not too far — just enough to keep out of the noise.
She used her compact tent, set traps around the perimeter, and even dug a small fire pit with a smother cover. While the others fought over branches and half-burned logs, Kira lit a small stove, cooked instant soup, and watched.
A few approached her out of curiosity.
Monty was the boldest.
"Hey. That's some setup you've got there," he said, wide-eyed.
"Yep."
"Where'd you get all that?"
"Magic," she deadpanned, then tossed him a protein bar. "Don't ask too many questions. You might not like the answers."
Monty grinned. "You're weird. I like it."
She offered him a quiet smile. He reminded her of her cousin back home.
"Thanks," she said.
He saluted with the protein bar. "You ever need help with electronics or plant identification, I'm your guy."
"I'll remember that."
Later that night, someone tried to steal from her.
She heard the soft crunch of boots on leaves and didn't even flinch.
The kid — tall, skinny, and desperate — tried to unzip her tent.
Her hand shot out from the side and grabbed his wrist.
"What the—"
He barely got the words out before she yanked him forward, twisted his arm, and slammed him to the ground. She planted her foot on his chest.
Gasps sounded from the nearby campfire.
Kira didn't raise her voice. "Anyone else want to try?"
No one moved.
The boy groaned beneath her. She stepped off and let him scramble away.
Bellamy raised an amused eyebrow.
Murphy whistled low. "Remind me not to piss you off."
Clarke watched her with wary curiosity.
Kira returned to her tent, utterly unfazed.
That night, as stars painted the sky, Kira sat cross-legged with her knife in hand, twirling it slowly.
She was alone. The camp buzzed in the distance, loud and oblivious.
She preferred it this way.
In solitude, she could think. Plan. Predict.
She closed her eyes and breathed.
Lexa.
The thought of her stirred something buried. A memory of strength, grace, tragedy. She had admired her from afar, even as a viewer. Lexa had been complex — a warrior, a diplomat, a lover.
And she had died because of poor choices.
Not this time.
Kira opened her eyes.
The Grounders didn't know it yet, but their world had just changed.
She wasn't just here to survive.
She was here to rewrite the future.
End of Chapter 1
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