Between Clarke Griffin and Lexa and Octavia Blake and Dr. Abby Griffin as romantic.
The green canopies of the reborn Earth brushed against the morning sky, and below them the city of Polis stood proudly, a testament to the resilience of humankind. Clarke Griffin wandered through the bustling streets, the noises of the market merging into a symphony of survival. Steeled by years of leadership and loss, her blue eyes still held the spark of hope for a future that had once seemed an impossible dream.
Her wandering feet carried her to the foot of the Polis tower, now a symbol of unity rather than power. Glancing upward, she contemplated the journey that led her here. Memories of her past, of the people she'd lost and the choices she made, danced in her mind like shadows around a flame. Amongst them, one figure stood out, immutable. Lexa, the commander of the Blood and the girl with the piercing gaze that seemed to understand everything. Love is weakness, she had said, and Clarke had believed her. Until she wasn't able to anymore.
Inside the tower, Lexa stood overlooking the city from the balcony of her quarters. The morning sun cast a warm glow over her face, softening the typically harsh lines of concentration. Her mind was never far from her duty, but today it lingered on a name she dared not whisper even in the solitude of her thoughts: Clarke. A healer. A leader. The woman who had pierced the armor around her heart and then shattered it with a single decision. There was peace now, hard-won and precious, but the ache for what might have been was a constant companion.
Their delicate peace is disrupted when Octavia Blake arrives at the tower with news that sends a ripple of urgency through its ancient stones. "We found something," she says, her voice laced with a mixture of excitement and anxiety, dark eyes flickering with curiosity. "In the Dead Zone, a bunker. It’s not like the ones we've seen before. It’s... different."
Clarke's heart skips a beat at the mention of the Dead Zone. No one ventures there without good reason. It's a graveyard of the Old World, riddled with the skeletons of fallen skyscrapers and radiated deserts. "Show me," she demands. The air between them is charged, a current of unspoken words and shared history within the walls that had witnessed both their greatest strengths and their deepest vulnerabilities.
Lexa decides to join them, feeling the pull of a leader's curiosity and an unnamable dread that knots in her stomach—a premonition of change. Dr. Abby Griffin, Clarke's mother and a member of the council, proclaims her intention to accompany them as well. The four of them set out together, an unlikely fellowship joined by the prospect of a discovery that could alter the course of their future.
As they reach the bunker, its doors sealed shut as though protecting ancient secrets, Clarke feels an inexplicable sense of déjà vu wash over her. Lexa watches her closely, the unspoken word on both their lips: A.L.I.E. The A.I. that nearly doomed them all, now a relic of the past. They hold their breath as the doors screech open, revealing darkness within. Without a word, they step inside, into the unknown.
They are not prepared for what awaits them. Screens flicker to life, illuminating the words "Project Resurgence." A voice, synthetic yet eerily human, fills the space: "Welcome, Seekers of Truth. You have discovered the Echoes of Tomorrow. Choose wisely, for here lies the power to reshape history or to cast it into oblivion."
In that moment, a myriad of possibilities unfolds before Clarke and Lexa, paths not taken and futures not lived. As they stand on the threshold of what once was and what might yet be, they look to each other—two leaders, two souls intertwined—wondering whether the echoes of tomorrow might become the songs of a new beginning or the lament of their last farewell.