The initial shock of the fireball was slowly beginning to wear off, rapidly replaced by the cold, tactical pragmatism that had kept Bellamy and Wells alive this long. They were leaders of a fractured camp in hostile territory, and suddenly, they had a weapon of mass destruction standing in their inner circle.
Bellamy exchanged a heavy look with Wells. They were both thinking the exact same thing.
"Just how powerful are you?" Bellamy asked, his voice steadying as he crossed his arms, looking at Aleksander not as a freak of nature, but as a massive tactical asset. "What exactly can you do?"
Aleksander folded his hands behind his back, his posture radiating absolute control.
"My powers are extremely versatile," Aleksander explained, his dark eyes meeting Bellamy's. "I am versed in alchemy. I can brew potions that accelerate healing, neutralize toxins, or enhance a person's physical strength and stamina. I can also brew poisons that leave absolutely no trace."
He let that lethal fact hang in the air for a second before continuing.
"As for spells," Aleksander said, his voice smooth and clinical, "you have already seen my combat magic and healing. But I can also enchant weapons, cast illusions, manipulate elements, and erect kinetic or magical barriers."
Monty, who had been listening with his mouth slightly open, suddenly snapped out of his terrified daze. His agricultural brain immediately latched onto the survival implications of manipulating nature.
"Wait," Monty blurted out, stepping forward, his eyes wide with a desperate, sudden hope. "If you have... Fey blood. If your magic is tied to nature... what about the seeds we brought from the Ark? They're going to take months to yield crops, and we're going to starve before then. Can you speed up plant growth?"
For the first time since the wolf attack, a genuine, slightly amused smile touched the corners of Aleksander's mouth.
"Manipulating flora is elementary," Aleksander answered, the ancient confidence in his voice washing over Monty like a lifeline. "Once you plant the seeds, Monty, I can infuse the soil with a growth charm. What would take months will take days. You will have a fully yielding harvest before the rations run out."
Monty let out a breathless laugh, running a hand through his hair. The biggest, most terrifying threat to their long-term survival—starvation—had just been effectively neutralized.
Wells, however, was focused on the immediate, physical threats in the dark.
"You mentioned barriers," Wells said, stepping up beside Bellamy, the two former rivals entirely united by the tactical reality of their situation. "Whoever is in Mount Weather just jammed our signal, and the Grounders are out there. Can you put a barrier around the camp? Something that keeps them out?"
"A warding perimeter," Bellamy added, his tactical mind racing. "If you can lock down the walls, we won't have to burn out our people keeping double watches every night."
"I am more than happy to secure the perimeter," Aleksander agreed with a firm nod. "I will cast a boundary ward along the wooden walls tonight. It won't be visible to the naked eye, but if anything with hostile intent tries to cross the threshold, it will be violently repelled. The camp will be a fortress."
Clarke had been uncharacteristically quiet, her mind rapidly processing the sheer volume of information. She was a doctor, trained in hard science and biological facts, but the undeniable reality of Wells standing alive right in front of her was all the proof she needed.
She looked at Aleksander, her initial hurt fading, replaced by the desperate need to keep her people alive.
"The potions," Clarke said softly, stepping into the center of the group. Her blue eyes were entirely focused. "The ones that accelerate healing and neutralize toxins. Can you create them for us? For the medical bay?"
Aleksander looked at her, seeing the fierce, unwavering protector she was beneath her scientific exterior. He gave a single, definitive nod.
"I have an enchanted space in my coat holding a vast supply of ingredients I brought from the Ark, and the forest outside is teeming with untapped magical flora," Aleksander assured her. "I will supply you with everything you need, Clarke. Your medical bay will not fail."
The heavy, suffocating dread that had plagued the leadership since they landed on Earth was suddenly gone. For the first time, they weren't just surviving. They weren't just waiting to be slaughtered by the Grounders or starved by the winter.
With Aleksander unleashing his full arsenal, the hundred were finally ready to fight back.
The heavy tension in the room had shifted from shock to a grim kind of tactical planning, but Aleksander wasn't quite finished drawing the boundaries of their new reality.
He leaned back against the cool metal of the dropship wall, rubbing the back of his neck. For a moment, he just looked tired—a stark contrast to the imposing figure he had been in the woods.
"There's one more thing," Aleksander said, his voice dropping low enough that they all had to lean in over the hum of the ship. "Raven is a wildcard. If she checks out, we can bring her in. But Finn... Finn stays out of this. Completely."
The group exchanged confused glances. Clarke, Wells, Bellamy, Monty, and Octavia had all noticed the quiet friction between Aleksander and Finn over the last week. It was a subtle, underlying tension, but it had never escalated into a real fight.
Bellamy frowned, gesturing vaguely to his own chest. "Hold on. You know what I did on the Ark. I came down here literally gunning for you and Wells, and you're letting me in on the magic secret. Finn just wanders around trying to play peacemaker. What exactly is the threat?"
Clarke nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. Finn had been nothing but helpful to her since they landed. "He's reckless sometimes, yeah, but he just wants everyone to stop fighting. Why freeze him out?"
Aleksander let out a slow, heavy breath. He looked down at his hands for a second before meeting their eyes again, abandoning the hope of keeping his mental abilities a secret. If they were going to survive together, they needed to see the board exactly the way he did.
"Because my magic isn't just physical, Clarke," Aleksander said quietly.
The air in the room seemed to pull tight.
"I have empathy. Telepathy," he explained, watching their faces carefully. "I don't just watch what people do. I feel what they feel. I hear the thoughts buzzing at the surface of their minds. Sometimes, I see flashes of their memories."
The room went dead silent. Monty shuffled awkwardly, instinctively taking a half-step back. Bellamy stiffened, his jaw tightening as the horrifying realization hit him: Aleksander had likely been feeling his guilt and terror about the Chancellor since day one.
"People wear masks," Aleksander continued, his voice softening with a kind of weary candor. "I don't judge them for that. But I do get to see what's actually broken underneath them. And Finn... Finn is dangerously fragile. He is going to break, and it's going to happen soon."
"Break?" Bellamy asked, his tactical instincts flaring through his discomfort. "What do you mean? The guy hands out metaphorical flowers and breaks up our fights."
"That's the mask, Bellamy," Aleksander corrected gently, but firmly. "Look at the facts. Look at what happened the second this dropship hit the atmosphere."
He turned his gaze to Clarke and Wells. "While we were plummeting toward Earth, Finn unbuckled his harness for a joyride. He talked two other kids into doing it, too. When the parachutes deployed and the kinetic force threw us against the bulkheads... those two boys died."
Clarke winced, her breath hitching as the sickening crunch of bone against metal echoed in her memory.
"That is a massive red flag," Aleksander said, a trace of disgust leaking into his tone. "He's impulsive, and he completely ignores consequences. But the worst part? He brushed right past the guilt of causing their deaths. Almost immediately. It's a pattern with him: Finn acts on whatever impulse he has in the moment, and other people pay the price."
Aleksander stepped a little closer to Clarke, his empathy easily picking up the sharp sting of betrayal radiating from her.
"He isn't a pacifist, Clarke. He's terrified of being alone," Aleksander explained, performing a brutal but necessary psychological breakdown of the boy outside. "He has severe attachment issues. He can't function unless he's tethered to someone who makes him feel validated. On the Ark, it was Raven. He took the fall for her illegal spacewalk. On paper, it looks incredibly noble—the minor takes the lockup so the eighteen-year-old doesn't get floated."
Aleksander held Clarke's gaze, refusing to let her look away from the truth.
"But the second he got to Earth and thought Raven was gone, he completely let go of her. He didn't mourn her. He didn't process it," Aleksander said ruthlessly. "He just immediately tried to attach himself to you. He shadowed you, he flirted with you, he tried to make himself your emotional anchor. Because he needs a host."
Clarke stared at him, feeling a sudden, cold knot form in her stomach. The reality of the last week violently clicked into place. The constant lingering, the grand gestures, the way he always inserted himself into her space—it hadn't been genuine affection. It was a desperate, unhinged need to cling to the nearest strong person so he wouldn't drown.
"And now Raven is here," Wells murmured, rubbing his forehead as a quiet dread settled over him. "He has two anchors in the same camp."
"Exactly," Aleksander nodded grimly. "His two worlds just collided. When the Grounders attack, or when the stress of this camp finally shatters his illusion of peace, his impulsivity is going to take the wheel. And when he panics, I will not have my magic, or the safety of this pack, compromised by a boy who doesn't care who gets hurt as long as he feels like the hero."
Aleksander looked around the small circle. He wasn't acting like an untouchable god anymore; he was a leader asking his team to trust his judgment on a genuine threat.
"Finn stays in the dark," Aleksander said firmly. "Are we clear?"
Bellamy blew out a long breath, looking slightly sickened by the reality check, but he gave a firm nod. "Yeah. Crystal."
Clarke took a slow, shaky breath. It hurt to hear, but her logical mind couldn't deny the overwhelming evidence Aleksander had just laid out. She squared her shoulders. "We're clear."