Well… I'm back.

After almost a year and half, I'm back. For the final time but hey, here we go. The 78th Hunger Games! The final one in this trilogy.

Now, if you're a first time reader, you don't have to read the 76th or 77th Games – though I always welcome more readers and reviewers. I will give sufficient backstory on each of them, nor will lack of knowledge of the previous two hurt anyone's chances of getting their tribute into this year's Games.

For now, read, enjoy, and submit a tribute if you like!

I DO NOT OWN THE HUNGER GAMES. ALL CREDIT GOES TO SUZANNE COLLINS. ANY CHARACTERS OR LOCATIONS OR PLOT LINES NOT FEATURED IN SUZANNE COLLIN'S STORY BELONG TO ME. ANY TRIBUTES SUBMITTED BY OTHER AUTHOR AND/OR REVIEWERS BELONG TO THEM AND BE CREDITED.

Prologue and the Tributes

The Capitol: The President's Palace

Six Months Before the 78th Hunger Games

"A sewer?"

"Y-yes, sir. A sewer system, to be, um, to be precise."

With a flick of his wrist, the hologram of the arena vanished from sight and President Cornelius Snow's eyes met those of a very nervous and sweaty Gamemaker. He was the sixth Gamemaker he had met with that day and, just as it was with the previous five, the President was thoroughly unimpressed. The only thing keeping him calm was the impeccably kept conditions of his study, their order and disciplined aesthetic reminding him to remain composed as well. Behind him, he felt soft light fall onto his back, clouds rolling over the opulent capitol and littering snow over the magnificent skyline.

To his credit, the young Gamemaker seemed to realize his idea was doomed. Still, it wouldn't do just to let him off easy. The President had a reputation to uphold, especially so in this time of crisis. He wouldn't appear weak on the home front.

"How long have you been a Gamemaker?" He asked calmly, his posture rigid and statuesque.

"F-five years." The Gamemaker replied, sweat soaking through his purple dress shirt.

"Five years. Impressive" The President remarked. It was in fact. It also spoke to his incompetence that after all these years he was still so low in the hierarchy. "Then you must know that sewers – forgive me, a sewer system – have been done before."

"I remember. It was one of the first Games I remember."

The Gamemaker's choice in arena suddenly became much clearly to the President. He was the sentimental type, therefore in no condition to be Head Gamemaker.

"Then you remember how they went, don't you?" The President asked. He could tell the Gamemaker wanted to interrupt, only holding himself back out of respect and fear. "The 45th Hunger Games. Can you tell me what happened?"

"More than half died of infection. But with respect, sir, my arena accounts for that and I think-"

The President held up one hand for silence and the Gamemaker went still. "Thirteen tribute died of infection to be exact. An unprecedented number. Then three died from the mutts that year, and one girl fell into some rotating blades. Only six tributes died due to another tribute. Poor performance doesn't even begin to sufficiently describe it. Not mention to lack of revenue we receive from that arena. Nobody from the Capitol wants to spend money to tour it, not even the poorest here. The only redeeming value of the Games was that Victor Chaff had charisma and managed to soothe some frayed nerves, mine included."

"I understand that completely, sir, but my arena-"

"Your arena is as abysmal as the location it mimics. I am very disappointed if this is the best you could come up with. Perhaps a change in employment would be best?"

The Gamemaker was now pale, eyes downcast. "I apologize, Mr. President. I should have thought better."

"Yes, you should have." The President scolded. "Perhaps next time, hmm?"

"Yes, sir."

"You're dismissed."

Quickly, the Gamemaker rose, grabbing his files and data, and scurried out, the Avoxes leading him to the exit. As he left, President Snow waved over another Avox, quietly asking for me tea. As the Avox poured, Snow turned in his chair to look out the windows, across his gardens and to his young granddaughter. She was playing in the snow with friends while Avoxes stood off to the sides, ready to attend to their needs.

'Young' was perhaps the wrong word to use to describe her. She was sixteen now and growing up to be an intelligent, beautiful, and perhaps too empathetic woman. Her education was the finest in the Capitol, not watered down in any way and free of propaganda. She was taught the true history of Panem, the reality that citizens in the Districts faced, and about the world before Panem, a taboo subject in the Capitol. Snow had to speak with his granddaughter about what she learned, calmly reminding her to not speak of certain things she learned from her private tutors around her friends. So far she had complied, realizing the magnitude of the knowledge she was being given.

Such an education was necessary if she was to become the next President of Panem, a role Snow would begin grooming her for this year. He should have started earlier, but he had spoiled his granddaughter, wanting her to enjoy her childhood as much as she could. Still, she had to be ready to take the reins of power when the time came. Snow's declining health seemed to signal that would be sooner rather than later.

And what kind of world was he leaving her to govern? A nightmare if things continued as they did. Panem had perhaps not been this dangerous since before the Dark Days. The chaos that followed the 77th Games had not dissipated, the fire seemingly growing bigger by the day. Things in the Capitol were tame at least, but the mood was one for retribution. They were furious over the ending to the Games, which was good for the President. He could use that in the next Games, which he would be overseeing closely this year.

After all, he had still failed to find a suitable, controllable replacement for the turncoat, Plutarch Havensbee.

Meanwhile, the Districts were restless. Small protests were breaking out across the Districts, the most severe occurring in the outliers. District 9 had returned to its rebellious ways, having not learned their lesson following the 76th Games. Even the loyal inner Districts were starting to show cracks.

The Victory Tour, now a week old, was an unmitigated, unsalvageable disaster as well.

The incident in District 8 had at least occurred away from Cameras and contained to the District. But the events in District 4, occurring as the 77th Victor gave her speech, had been broadcast across Panem. Wherever she went, the Victor seemed to stir up trouble. But she still continued to tow the line for the Capitol. She was no rebel, not that they wanted her anyways. The Victor's popularity in the Districts had always been low, and the Tour had done nothing to help her. From the reports he was receiving, she was descending even further into her morphling addiction as well, a state that suited the President just fine.

A knock at the door distracted him from his thoughts. Briefly, his focus returned to his granddaughter, who was now thanking an Avox for bringing out hot chocolate.

'Too much empathy.' The President thought, before turning around towards the door.

"Your next appointment, sir." His secretary announced.

With a nod, Snow beckoned in the next Gamemaker, who entered trying to project an air of confidence. The President already knew everything there was to know about her, so it was interesting to see how she portrayed herself now.

Analysse Reyes. Aged forty, five foot, five inches, cropped black hair with golden pierced ears and a no nonsense pantsuit. Her ancestors were from the Old World continent of Asia, most likely southeast, making her of a dying race in Panem. She had a husband and one daughter, only five years old, and not many friends. She was very work oriented, the child seemingly more for her doting husband than herself.

"Mr. President." Reyes began, a small smile coming to her face. She made no move to try and shake his hand, well aware of protocol. Instead, Snow gestured to the chair in front of his desk.

"A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Reyes." The President said, wanting to see if she would correct him. She didn't even seem to flinch at 'Ms.'. Already a good sign. "Shall we?"

Without missing a beat, Reyes passed over files and opened up a hologram of the arena. Ignoring the folders, the President examined the arena, impressed by its size and scope.

"Interesting choice." He remarked. "Normally the Capitol prefers something more picturesque, no?"

"They would, sir." She replied. "But considering the mood, I thought something along these lines would be better."

"Very intuitive. Show me a timeline for topographical changes."

A flick of a wrist and the timetable began. The arena changed before his eyes, as Reyes spoke about each change and her reasoning behind it.

"Mutts?"

Another flick. The mutts were fierce, scary, and tailored well to the arena.

"They're no Leviathan, sir, but I'm sure they can do the job well."

The President had to smile at that. "Indeed." He replied, rising as he did. Reyes rose with him, her steely façade cracking for a moment to show a mixture of fear and hope. His smile growing, the President extended his hand. "Congratulations, Ms. Reyes. The Arena is yours."

Jubilation flooded her face, a small sigh of glee escaping her lips before she quickly regained composure and took his hand into her own. "Thank you, sir. Thank you so much sir. I will not let you down!"

The President smiled, his grip tightening. "No, no you won't."

The future of Panem depended on success. One wrong move and the District's could rebel once again. It all had to go perfectly.

And President Snow had no intention of allowing any rebel sentiment to show in these Games.

And now he had an arena to do just that.

Tributes of the 78th Hunger Games

Happy Hunger Games! And May the Odds Be Ever in Their Favor!

District 1 (Luxury)

M: Augustus Kerrick (18)

F: Rosa Ranevall (18)

District 2 (Masonry/Military)

M: Erasmus Draven (18)

F: Lyla Rorrish (18)

District 3 (Technology)

M: Cyril Swatton (16)

F: Siri Oshiro (16)

District 4 (Fishing)

M: Marlin Mendez (18)

F: Mediterrania Seville (18)

District 5 (Power)

M:

F: Eleanor "Ellie" Bernoulli (14)

District 6 (Transportation/Medicine)

M: Ezra Nazari (18)

F: Avalynn Kapur (16)

District 7 (Lumber)

M: Orion "Ori" Ballantine (13)

F: Reina Visini (17)

District 8 (Textiles)

M: Brighton Pharaoh (15)

F: Lacey McElle (17)

District 9 (Grain)

M: Tanner Davies (16)

F: Hayes Morris (15)

District 10 (Livestock)

M: Rafe Vaccaro (18)

F: Marena Combe (17)

District 11 (Agriculture)

M: Sean DeSantos (16)

F: Tepary Plantae (18)

District 12 (Coal/Mining)

M:

F: Marley Calabrese (15)

And here we go!

It always bothered me that Collins would just drop casually that Snow had a Granddaughter. That should have been a bigger point in the books. She'll be making more appearances later in the story as well.

Also, the story surrounding the 45th Hunger Games is taken from the amazing Hoprocker's Story: Final Judgement: The 44th Hunger Games. I would highly recommend checking out her stories because they blow mine out of the water.

Only a few more submissions needed! Don't be shy!

Hope you enjoyed and leave a review if you like!