The night was quiet in the camp, the kind of quiet that always felt heavier than it should. Octavia sat alone by the fire, her knees pulled to her chest, staring at the flames as if they could burn away everything she felt.

You approached slowly, not wanting to startle her. “Hey,” you said softly, sitting beside her.

She didn’t look at you at first, just let out a bitter laugh. “I can’t do this anymore,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “Every time I try… I mess up. I hurt people. I feel like… like a monster.”

Your heart tightened at the sight of her so vulnerable. Octavia Blake, fierce warrior, unstoppable fighter… and yet here she was, afraid of herself.

“Octavia,” you said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. She flinched at first but didn’t pull away. “You’re not a monster.”

She finally turned to face you, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Then what am I? Because it sure feels like one.”