A.N: Hello dear reader, this chapter is the prologue of this story, hence the information overload. I had to set the setting before I could start the story, otherwise things wouldn't make sense. This is a Bellarke endgame fic. I promise the next chapter will have significantly more interaction between them. I hope this intrigues you enough to make you stick around for chapter two. As always, reviews are highly appreciated.

There are many rules in space, crucial for the survival of the human race. However, there is one that stands above them all. The System is always right. Perfect. Flawless. In its hundred and three years of operating not once did it make a single mistake, a single miscalculation. Despite that, they never forgot the many mistakes its predecessor made. A.L.I.E (that's what they had decided to name that first God-like A.I) was their damnation and A.L.I.E 0.2 (that's what their current A.I was called, despite many protests) their salvation.

Clarke Griffin —just like every child born in space— knew the terrible actions of A.L.I.E. A hundred and five years ago a group of people from all around the world volunteered to test out the new space station, which scientist claimed would be able to replace Earth if —or rather when— it became no longer habitable. That space station was governed by an all too powerful A.I that people trusted too blindly. Everything was smooth sailing until one day it decided that the Earth was a threat. A.L.I.E informed the people that they would be better off by themselves so they blocked all communications with the planet, after transferring its message. But that wasn't enough for A.L.I.E; the threat was still present. A year later, it decided Earth's destruction was the only choice. Until this day, nobody can tell for sure why the A.I thought that. A flaw in its code was the only explanation they gave— to people as Clarke, at least. It doesn't really matter. What does is that A.L.I.E had already thrown three missiles before they were able to override her. U.S.A, Russia, and Australia. The three countries it hit. The three countries that almost became the end of their little space station.

The only reason the people followed another A.I was that they had no other choice. Three of the strongest countries were ready to wage a war on them —justifiably, many thought— and they had no means to protect themselves except for two remaining missiles. The programmers promised that they had traced the problem to its root and had eradicated it. Clarke always wondered how the most important part of the story —the cause of all those deaths and destruction— was the one that never made it to official documents. It really troubled her sometimes, because if nobody knew what had caused the first fatal flaw in the system, how could they know that A.L.I.E 0.2 wouldn't follow the steps of its predecessor? She never shared her doubts with anyone, of course, as doubting the system was considered a criminal offense. After coming up with an apology and a treaty the countries couldn't refuse, A.L.I.E 0.2 continued to improve the life for space people. It might have stopped the war but Earth wasn't going to welcome them back anytime soon. But that didn't matter, because it helped develop that small space station into the equivalent of a thriving metropolis and forty-seven years after that, made the colonization of Mars possible. After those achievements, the people were eager to put the ugly history of A.L.I.E behind and embrace this new A.I to a point where their devotion to it looked like a messed up religion. They trusted it so much that everyone had a small chip attached to their brain so it could always be accessible.

The System is flawless. That's what Clarke grew up thinking and if she was being honest, it wasn't a difficult reality to accept. Everything was going great for her. How many girls get to marry their best friend, who also happens to be the chancellor's son? It's not like anybody had ever complained about their match before, but Clarke couldn't think of a better outcome. Truth be told, back when she was a child she was worried that the soulmate the system would choose for her wouldn't be someone perfect, but all her doubts were erased when she found out that she was going to be the wife of Wells Jaha. Both families were thrilled and everything couldn't be going greater. And then it happened. A.L.I.E 0.2 finally made a mistake. A pretty big one.

…

Clarke was getting ready to board the spaceship that was going to take her from the Ark (the main space station) to Mars. The Ark was the Chancellor's seat since the beginning of the space station, but A.L.I.E 0.2 had decided that his heir and his new wife should get married and then reside on Mars to prove that planetary life was the future of the human nature. Clarke, who had never left the space station, had no objections with that plan whatsoever. It wouldn't matter if you did, anyways, she thought with an unjustifiable amount of bitterness. She should feel grateful for what A.L.I.E 0.2 had offered her. So what if it decided that she would be a stay at home mother (of three children, two girls, and a boy) instead of a doctor like she had always wanted? It was a sacrifice —not sacrifice, she corrected herself, more like a compromise— she would have to learn to live with.

"Clarke, honey, are you ready?" Her mother's warm voice echoed from the hallway.

She gave a last good look at the space that served as her bedroom for the last seventeen years and answered coming! before rushing to meet her mother.

"The spaceship is ready. Are you sure that you've taken everything you need? Do you want me to call them and have them carry anything else?"

"You make it sound as if you can't have them ship the entire contents of this house to Mars." Clarke said sarcastically, her eyes glued on the empty space next to her mother. Dad wouldn't miss this, she told herself. "Where is Dad?"

Abby Griffin, expert surgeon and council member, was someone that looked others straight into their eyes and didn't hesitate to tell them the truth, as harsh as it might be. So when Clarke saw her look away she knew she wouldn't like the answer.

"Come on, mom. Spit it out."

"Clarke, honey—"

"He is too busy to say goodbye to his only daughter, isn't he?" She scoffed, willing the unwanted tears away. "Should we even save him a seat at the wedding?"

"Clarke." Her mother's tone was dangerously low. As if she was the one that had done something wrong. "You know your father loves you."

"Yeah, I'm not that sure about it anymore."

…

When the alarm went off and the whole spaceship started shaking all Clarke could think was her last words to her mother. She had left after that; stormed out of the room, was the proper expression for what had happened. For the first time in her life, Clarke had found herself wishing for the doors humans used to have instead of the automatic sliding ones that were installed in the Ark so she could slam it shut. Two hours later, she knew that she had behaved irrationally. It wasn't her mother's fault that her father hadn't bothered up showing up. She should have said goodbye. She should have hugged her. She should have said that she loved her.

"What's going on?" She asked, raising her voice trying to be heard over the deafening noise of the alarm.

The spaceship carried three people in total; Clarke Griffin, a guard to ensure that she would arrive at Mars safely and a pilot to fly the spaceship in cause the auto-pilot failed.

When nobody answered, Clarke unfastened the belts that held her down and got up.

"Mrs. Griffin please sit down." A male voice told her. His tone was polite but it also indicated he wasn't asking.

"What's happening?" She asked again, but the look on the guard's face told her that he knew as much as she did.

The shape ship shifted again throwing Clarke against the wall with such force that it was a miracle none of her bones shattered. When the floor stopped shaking she quickly got up and returned to her seat without meeting the guard's eyes. She wasn't in the mood for I told you so.

"This is your pilot speaking." The voice came out slightly distorted from a speaker strategically placed somewhere in the room so that Clarke couldn't see it. "We are experiencing a problem."

"Yeah, no shit." Clarke muttered earning a sharp look from the guard.

"The auto-pilot is flying us towards Earth." A pause. "I can't override it." Then more panicked, "Seriously, I've tried everything. We are going to crash."

Clarke didn't let the knowledge that she was heading towards certain death register. She double-tapped the part of the A.L.I.E 0.2 chip that was protruding from the right side of her head.

"Hello, Clarke Griffin. Is there anything I can do for you?" Its voice had the same artificial and casual tone it always had but now it made Clarke want to scream at it.

She did. "We are going to die!"

"I assure you everything is under control."

She started laughing. That must be a very bad sign, she thought. "We are heading towards Earth."

"I assure you everything is under control."

The Earth became visible from the space ship's windows. It is… beautiful, Clarke thought before remembering that it would soon become her grave.

"How can you say that?" Her heart was beating frantically now.

"I assure you everything is under control."

With a sound that resembled a roar, Clarke hit the chip turning A.L.I.E 0.2 off. It had finally happened. It wasn't flawless after all. If Clarke was being honest with her self, she had been expecting for something like this to happen for a very long time. Out of all the scenarios that she had come up with, nothing came close to the real thing.

"Hang on tight, we are entering the atmosphere."

Those were the last words Clarke heard before passing out.

…

Clarke blinked slowly, a groan escaping her lips. Her head was killing her. She lifted a hand to the place where her A.L.I.E chip had been but the only thing there was flesh and blood. A lot of blood. What happened?

She must have said that aloud because a voice answered her. "You are alive."

Wondering if that deep voice belonged to the guard or the pilot she managed to say, "I think I am. Everything hurts."

"Who are you?" The voice asked.

Clarke blinked hard, trying to regain her vision. It took her some effort and was pretty sure she had caused a permanent headache but she was able to see again. Everything was blurry but it was better than nothing. Turns out the voice belonged to neither the guard nor the pilot. It was coming from a guy that was standing in front of an opening that certainly hadn't been there when Clarke had first boarded this spaceship. Huh, she thought.

"Don't make me ask again." The guy raised the black metal thing he was holding with both hands.

"Is that a gun?" She asked, each word requiring tremendous effort.

"I won't hesitate to shoot." Was the answer he chose to give her. "Who. Are. You."

"I'm Clarke." She didn't think he would appreciate her sarcasm but decided to say "Nice to meet you," anyways.

"Where did you come from?"

A part of Clarke urged her to shut her mouth. This guy was a stranger. A stranger that lived on Earth. He could be very dangerous. Hell, he could even kill her. A larger part of Clarke decided that she didn't care. "Space." When he didn't say anything she decided to add, "Now, either help me get out of here or shoot me."

She knew that he was considering the latter by the way his eyes kept shifting from his gun to her and back at his gun. It could have been minutes, or hours, or even years when he finally put his gun down and said, "You better not try anything."

Clarke scoffed and was not pleased to discover that even that hurt. "Please. We both know I can't even hurt a fly."

The boy —now that he had gotten closer, Clarke could tell that he couldn't be older than twenty five— from Earth didn't say anything. He pulled a little knife from he pocket and used it to cut the belts that restrained her body. Before she knew what was happening he had thrown her on his right shoulder. "Welcome to Earth, Clarke." He said in a voice that made Clarke think that he wasn't very pleased about the current situation. "I'm Bellamy."