Episode One, Part 6:

P y r i t e

Sol climbed off the motorbike, resting it down beside the bushes out of sight, and began to make her descent down the cliffs to reach the second Bunker. She was careful, scanning every direction for the sight of Riders, but there was no one around. 

The cave was as damp and cold as she remembered it, but the immediate difference she noticed was the the seal to the Bunker was now open, not closed as she had left it. As she got closer to the entrance she noticed a bag chucked on the floor - one that she identified as Riders. 

"Bingo." She murmured to herself. Lyra was down there, almost making an open invitation of it, as good as giving her directions herself. Sol climbed down the ladder, reaching the bottom ready to move if Lyra had heard her. 

She inched towards the door, only then remembering how small it was - how almost everything was in sight of the main room - the living air, dining, even the beds. She hovered in the doorway for a moment, venturing in when there was no sight of her. 

Sol remembered one of her first thoughts when she originally came down here - how it didn't feel like a home, only a place. The feeling came again, and the longer she looked around, the more she began to sympathize with the likes of Atlantis, and even Wynnlow who the thought of was creeping back in slowly. 

She picked up what was one of the only picture frames she could find, and in it she saw a younger girl which could have only been Atlantis given her complexion, and the familiar long, dark curls which she had inherited from Zara. She was smiling at the camera, the sun low in the desert background behind, and a hand was holding onto hers. There was something about the photo that Sol couldn't pull her eyes away from, as if there was something she was looking for, or trying to recognize. 

"Seemed like good people." A voice echoed from behind her. 

Sol turned around at the voice, somehow managing to restrain her body from jumping, not at all expecting who she saw. 

Instead of being Lyra standing by the exit, slowly creeping towards her, it was Noah Rule - soon to be Commander of Blood Riders. 

"What are you doing here?" 

Noah laughed, looking down as he took a couple steps towards her. In the dim light, Sol could see the glimmer reflecting off a knife held loosely in his hand. "Could ask you the same thing, Nobel." He smirked. 

Sol rolled her eyes and matched his movements, equalizing the distance between them, showing him that she wasn't afraid. "Seeing as I'm the one who has the knife," he began, waving it beside his face, "I'll ask the questions, and you answer them." 

Sol complied, knowing that even if she did give away a couple secrets, Noah still wouldn't be able to figure out how she knew them. 

"I was expecting to find Lyra here. That a good enough answer for you?" She tilted her head, teasing her knowledge. Expectantly, Noah pulled back, confused at how she had known that.

"What do you mean by that?" He asked her. 

"You mean you don't send her to do you dirty work?" Sol asked. "Or is that a leader's responsibility." 

"You want to talk about responsibility, Nobel? How many of those people from the first Bunker died as a result of you opening it?" 

Sol considered her answer, a smirk appearing before she revealed her words. "About the same number that escaped from your captivity." 

Noah nodded, as if accepting her response. Within a second, he had lunged over and taken her in his hold. Her back was pressed against his chest, his breath hitting the back of her neck as he breathed, the knife he held now inches away from her neck. 

"Why don't you tell me what you're really here for, Riverly. We both you know you got everyone out in one piece this time." 

"I came to deliver a message to you." She breathed out fast, the smirk not having left her face the entire time. It was almost as if a twisted part of her was enjoying this. Despite how cocky and arrogant he was, there was something about him that let Sol know that he wasn't going to hurt her. 

"Oh yeah? And what's that message?" Noah asked. 

Sol placed one hand on his wrist preventing him from using the knife, her other arm jamming backwards to elbow him in the stomach. Noah doubled over in pain, soon being pushed to the floor by Sol, her knee resting over his torso so that he couldn't get up. She had acquired the knife and now was the one to hold it against his neck, staring down at him eye to eye. 

"That you might want to reconsider underestimating me." 

After a few moments, Sol climbed off of Noah and began walking towards the exit, stabbing the knife into the wooden table on her way. 

"Fair play, Nobel." Noah called out behind her, still on the floor catching his breath. Sol laughed, shaking her head as she made her way back up the ladder onto the ground. 

As she made her way back to the motorcycle an idea swept through her mind about where she was going - if she was just going to head straight back to Basilisk, or if there was somewhere else she wanted to be, or someone she wanted to find. 

For a moment, she had decided that she was going to go to Wynnlow's Bunker - see how they were all getting on, if they were adjusting - but she realized that if she was still struggling to get visions of that night out of her head, then it must be a lot worse for them. Not wanting to bring back any ghosts, Sol decided against it, returning back to Basilisk in time for everything to change. 

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one // part six

Something she was looking for, recognizing.