The crowd eventually dispersed, still murmuring in shock and disbelief. Some were horrified. Others just stared at me with fear in their eyes. But most… just walked away.
Like I didn't matter.
Like I wasn't just a boy who had lost everything.
The Council convened immediately. Behind closed doors, the room filled with tension.
"What should we do about him?" asked one council member.
"He's dangerous, but… he's just a kid," said another.
"He attacked us with deadly force. He murdered eight guards. That cannot be ignored," Kane said through gritted teeth, still recovering from his injury.
"He's lost everything. His father was floated right in front of him," Abby said quietly.
"Does he have any other family?" asked Jaha.
The room went silent.
"No," one of the council members finally replied. "He's completely alone."
Jaha nodded slowly, then made his decision.
"The law is clear. But due to his age… we won't float him. Not yet."
He turned to Abby.
"Dr. Griffin. We leave him in your custody."
Abby didn't speak. She just gave a silent nod and walked out.
I don't know how long I'd been unconscious. But when I opened my eyes, I knew immediately where I was:
Sky Prison.
The place they put the worst of the worst.
The cell was cold, small, sterile. I sat on the hard bench, staring at the floor, my arms still sore from the electricity they used to bring me down.
The heavy doors opened, and Abby Griffin walked in, flanked by two guards. Her eyes were tired, filled with something between pity and disappointment.
"You attacked the Council. You injured Marcus Kane. And you nearly killed the Chancellor." Her voice was steady. "By law, you should be floated. But you're only fifteen. So… you won't be. Not yet."
I looked up at her, eyes burning. "Lucky me, huh?"
She didn't respond to the sarcasm. "You've killed eight guards. Trained men. If you had used that strength to become one of them, maybe things could've been different. Your father would be disappointed."
That was the final straw.
I stood up. "Don't. Talk. About. Him. You killed him. You followed your absurd laws and let him die!" My voice cracked with anger.
That shut her up.
She stared at me a moment longer, then turned away.
"Prisoner 29019. Aiden Voss. You'll stay here until further notice."
She walked out. The doors slammed shut behind her.
I sat down slowly, breathing heavily. My muscles still ached. My chest was still hollow.
I acted on impulse… and it ruined my plan.
My original goal was to become someone important on the Ark. An influential figure. Someone trusted. Then, I'd use that position to ensure my safety and the safety of the others when we finally reached Earth.
But that path was gone now.
I snapped.
And now I was just another number in this floating prison.
But there was one upside.
I was fifteen. The dropship would be launched in about two to three years. When they gather the 100… I'd be one of them.
Three years later.
I'm almost eighteen. Just a month left before they float me.
A month. That's all I have before they finally decide to get rid of me—toss me out into the cold vacuum of space like some forgotten piece of trash. I thought I still had time. Time to adjust the plan. Time to build connections, gain trust, and rise in the Ark's ranks so that when the time came, I could choose where I landed. So I could be useful.
Instead, I'm here. Sitting on the cold metal floor of this cell in Skybox, labeled Prisoner 29019. No sword. No spear. No freedom. Just the echo of my mistakes and a body that refuses to stay still.
They said I was dangerous. That I killed eight people. I guess they're not wrong… but it's not like I had a choice. My father died because of their system. Because of their laws. Because of their lies. So I fought back. Hard. Maybe too hard.
Now, locked up with only my thoughts and this godforsaken ceiling for company, I reflect.
Even here, I train. The space may be limited, but I still shadowbox every day. Kicks, strikes, combos—I run through the drills I've practiced since I was a kid. Boxing, Taekwondo, Muay Thai. They kept me grounded. They kept me sane. My cell might be small, but in my mind, I'm back on the mat, fighting opponents twice my size.
Still, it's not the same. I miss my weapons—my sword and my spear. I miss the weight of them in my hands. The precision. The control. That feeling of being powerful, unstoppable.
Now I'm just… waiting.
Waiting for the 100 to be selected.
Waiting for the chance to touch the ground.
Waiting for my second chance.
I might be locked up, but I'm not done.
Unbeknownst to me, the Council had already gathered in secret. Tension filled the room as they faced the brutal reality of limited resources and dwindling time.
"We don't have a choice," Chancellor Jaha finally said.
"They're just kids," one council member argued.
"They're prisoners," another responded. "Sending them gives them a chance."
After a moment of heavy silence, one of the others nodded. "Alright. Let's do it."
One by one, the rest reluctantly agreed. The decision was made—The 100 would be sent to Earth.
Another day, another round of training.
Over the past three years, I've held onto what I could—my mind, my discipline, my fists. I've kept my body sharp in this tiny cell. Even with the limited space and lack of freedom, I've managed to keep up my martial arts training. It's not much, but it's something. I had already mastered boxing, taekwondo, and Muay Thai before I was locked up. Now I just refine my technique over and over again, fighting the boredom and the creeping sense of time running out.
I often begged my father to let me train with real weapons—a sword, a spear, anything. But he always said it was too dangerous, that there was no need for such things anymore. How wrong he was.
And now, here I am—almost 18. Just a month away from being floated. I thought I'd have more time. I thought I'd get to see Earth with my own eyes someday. Guess that's out the window, huh? So much for dreams.
Still, over time, I managed to make a friend—the only one I've got in this place. Troy Danford. His cell is right next to mine. We talk through the wall almost every night. He's the only thing keeping me sane.
I even taught him a few martial arts moves through the walls when we had a chance. He thanked me—said it gave him something to focus on. Something to take his mind off everything else.
Troy's got this weird yellow ponytail that he keeps tied up all the time. It's messy, but he takes good care of it. He told me once that someone murdered his parents. He found out who it was... and tried to kill the guy himself. Guards caught him before he could finish the job. They arrested the killer—and Troy. Said justice wasn't his to take. Now he's in here, just like me. Another lost soul with no family left.
Earlier today, I noticed something strange. Guards started removing inmates from their cells, one by one.
It's starting.
I whispered to myself as I watched them leave. I thought they might take me first, but strangely, they left me behind.
And then...
The door to my cell opened.
Dr. Abby Griffin walked in, followed by a group of guards. She looked at me like she was about to say something important, but all she said was:
"You won't resist, will you?" she asked gently.
I shook my head slowly. "No… I saw what happened to the others. I know what this is."
The guards moved in, securing me in cuffs. I didn't fight. What was the point?
As they led me out of the cell and down the dimly lit corridor, I looked back one last time. "Earth," I whispered under my breath. "I'm coming… Father, your son is coming home."