Prologue

District 5

The Bethel family stared at the static flashing across their screen that meant the end of the mandatory broadcast, three months before the mandatory viewings normally started. The television remained on. None of them could muster up the willpower to get up and turn it off. They were all too shocked.

Vote. Vote for your Tributes.

Mr. Bethel, on the top floor, wondered if he had doomed his two children with the words that he spoke against the Capitol. He brought the Peacekeepers' wrath down hard on his sector in the factory. He was generally disliked. And his children had been pariahs for years. Would one of them suffer the district's wrath?

In the apartment under, Mrs. Elvara closed her eyes, refusing to let herself cry. Her Reaping-aged kids were safe. They had to be. No one in the district knew her, or cared. Her kids were safe. Please, Capitol, let them be safe!

Two floors down, Mr. Silas directed his anger at the couple above. They were safe. Their kids had aged out. They already looked down on him for being in such a low position in one of the power plants, and he could imagine their self-satisfied smirks. He clutched his wife's hand, stroking his daughter's hair. Oh, Capitol. Oh, Capitol.

Across town, the mayor felt his stomach churn. His two sons were normally safe from the Reaping. They only had the minimum slips required for their age. But this year...who knew? The district rabble could take their revenge on him through his children.

For that night, the entire District seemed to pulse with anger, confusion, fear.

The Game Center

Head Gamemaker Sagittarius Black was very aware of the fact that he needed to make this Arena unforgettable.

The Quell announcement had been made, and now the Game Center was in complete disarray, with Gamemakers simultaneously shouting their own suggestions and thoughts on the matter.

"The Games' twenty fifth anniversary! The bar's really set on us now!"

"We need to make this unforgettable—"

"—Of course, but how—"

"—The Districts'll send the crazy ones, we want it psychologically testing—"

"—The Tributes will be strong, of course! We need a physically oriented Arena—"

"—How do we know what to do until the Tributes are picked?"

Sagittarius tapped his throat, happy for the new modification he had got that amplified his voice when he needed it. "Testing," he said. His voice rang out, loud and clear. He smiled. "I want everyone to take an hour and discuss themes for this Arena," he ordered. "I'll be in my office."

The silence of this announcement was short-lived however, and Gamemakers again began discussing and expressing their ideas for the Arena.

"We can't do something terribly basic, like a forest or a desert; the President will have our heads for sure!" one frantically exclaimed.

"Perhaps we could combine the two? Add in another biome as well?" another suggested.

"If it were last year, that would've been a fine idea, but this has to be something unexpected, original, for both the Tributes and the audience!"

"—Don't forget the President—"

"—This has to be a change from the last twenty four years!"

Athena Lilac, one of the youngest of the group had stayed quiet, merely listening to the array of shouts and opinions until the word caught her attention. Change.

She looked around the room. They were underground by several floors, in a safe area where no one could spy on them. Still, she remembered the outside. It was springtime. Everything in the Capitol was meticulously climate controlled, of course, but not even the technology they had could completely destroy the bite of winter. Nor did they want to. There were winter fashions, spring fashions to catch up on. Speaking of that...Athena had an appointment with the hairdresser after this meeting.

The bite of winter. Change.

An idea began to seed itself in Athena's mind.

District 1

The thought that ran through the District like an electrical current: What do I do?

What do I do? The Tribute hopefuls wondered. They had been training all their lives for a chance to fight, and without the opportunity to Volunteer, their life plans could be completely thrown off. For some of them, their only chance to succeed—to live the life they wanted—was to go into the Games.

What do I do? The children who didn't train wondered. There was so much left up to chance in the petty world of District 1, where no one ever forgot an insult or missed an opportunity to get revenge. Anyone could easily be elected into the Games for the crimes of their parents, or for any perceived insult to honor. And with no Volunteers—for the first time in years, District 1 could have an untrained Tribute.

What do we do?

District 12

It was different out in District 12.

The children in the Community Home were waiting in silence, hoping for someone to break the horror in the air.

Finally, one of the older children spoke. "It won't be us."

A younger child snorted. All of them in the room knew that the older one was lying. They were the ones that District 12 didn't care about. They were the ones that weren't loved. They were the ones that were unnecessary. They were the ones who would be chosen.

The children sat, wondering which one of them would be missing in three months.

Presidential Palace

The President was a man who loved order. Arrangement, organization, systems- he thrived on those. They were practically his way of life.

He took a glance at his office. Perfectly rectangular picture frames and paintings adorned the off-white walls in a symmetrical fashion, each frame meticulously positioned exactly five inches apart from those beside it. His desk was neat, free from any clutter, and the two snake plants that flanked the oak door stood as upright as ever.

A slight smile crawled up his face as he let out a sigh.

His love for order was a major reason for why he had kept his presidential position for more than a decade. His firm style of governing coupled with the importance he gave for planning had definitely kept the Districts in check for the last ten years. Hardly any acts of rebellion broke out. He was confident he had extinguished even the tiniest fire in the hearts of the insurgents.

It was the best feeling to be in control.

At that moment, he was currently awaiting the call of the Head Gamemaker, Mr. Sagittarius Black. He was to inform him of the plan for the Quell's Arena before its construction was to commence.

The President was glad for the fact that he had notified the Gamemakers three months before about the special nature of these Games from those that preceded it. It was to remind the rebels it was their choice to allow their children to get killed, after all.

He had given the Gamemakers two weeks to decide on an Arena they were to present to him. It was the morning of the fourteenth day, and he had been expecting the familiar ring of the hologram in his office for the past hour.

He was scanning a few documents when Sagittarius finally called, as he immediately tapped the silver device on the third ring.

The familiar face of Sagittarius appeared before him. "Good morning, Mr. Black. I assume you've accomplished your task?"

Needless to say, he was not disappointed by the reply.

He smiled. "Excellent. I am delighted to learn that this Arena will certainly be a great variation from those repetitive, generic forests."

Sagittarius paused. "I am certain this will truly be a remarkable change that will be remembered."

"And you're certain you will be able to execute this very well? This kind of arena would definitely require precise planning and execution."

"I assure you, Mr. President, our team is composed of the most innovative and intelligent of the Capitol. We will skillfully pull this off with flair."

"Wonderful." The President smiled. "Then please, let the Games commence." He hit the button, and Sagittarius disappeared.

The President looked out the window over the springtime in his city. "Let the Games commence."

Author's Note:

This is an SYOT. The Tribute form and rules are on my profile, as well as on LiaRegie's profile. This is for the 25th Hunger Games, the first Quarter Quell, so keep that in mind.

This does not fit in with Demigod Games or Talent canon. Don't expect characters from either of those stories to show up.

This is a collaboration between LiaRegie and I, just so everyone knows. We're excited to be writing this, but updates might be slow.

Thank you!