The dim glow of the candles illuminated the room, their flickering light casting shadows on the walls of the medical chamber. You knelt by Lexa’s side, your hand trembling as it brushed a strand of hair from Lexa’s sweat-drenched face. The commander’s breathing was shallow, her body wracked with tremors. The Flame—the AI chip embedded in her neck—was malfunctioning, its once-perfect integration with Lexa’s mind now tearing her apart from the inside.

Lexa’s eyes fluttered open, their sharp green dulled by pain.

“Clarke,”

she rasped, her voice barely audible,

“the Flame… it’s corrupted. You must protect it.”

You bit your lip, struggling to maintain your composure.

“Protecting it means losing you,”

You said, your voice breaking.

“I can’t let that happen.”

Lexa’s hand reached up weakly, her fingers brushing yours.

“The legacy… it matters more than one life. Even mine.”

You shook your head vehemently.

“Not to us. Not like this.”

You turned to Raven, who stood nearby with a tablet in hand, her brow furrowed as she analyzed the data from the Flame.

“It’s bad,”

Raven said grimly.

“The Flame’s systems are in complete chaos. If we don’t do something soon, it’ll burn out Lexa’s mind completely. But… if we try to remove it or repair it, there’s no guarantee she’ll survive.”

The weight of the decision pressed down on you like a vice. Every choice seemed like a betrayal—either of Lexa, or of the Grounders who trusted her to protect their sacred Flame.

Lexa’s voice broke through your thoughts.

“Clarke… you are strong. Stronger than you believe. You will do what is right.”

The procedure was a frantic blur. Raven’s hands moved deftly, her tools working to stabilize the Flame’s systems while you held Lexa’s hand, whispering words of reassurance. Lexa convulsed once, her body arching off the table as a surge from the Flame coursed through her. Your heart leapt into your throat.

A sudden hum filled the air as the Flame emitted a soft, pulsing light. The erratic signals stabilized.