f virtue be the spring of a popular government in times of peace, the spring of that government during a revolution is virtue combined with terror: virtue, without which terror is destructive; terror, without which virtue is impotent. Terror is only justice prompt, severe and inflexible; it is then an emanation of virtue; it is less a distinct principle than a natural consequence of the general principle of democracy, applied to the most pressing wants of the country.

Maximilien Robespierre, 1794 CE

*Haymitch*

"Hey, I meant it when I told him he earned the break. All of those kids down there have earned a break."

I know it's silly, but I feel like snapping at somebody right now. In this case, it's these two striped not-dogs lounging in the foyer and staring at me with judgmental stares after I had stepped off from the elevator. Or maybe they're probably just staring in anticipation of mooching food off me.

So I trudge past them into the command center, where I announce myself with a grumble: "Had to shoo away the boy from trying to join our little meeting." When I saw Peeta's pleading and earnest stare, it was tempting to give in and allow him to tag along. He's smart enough to know that the topic of the coming conversation is going to involve him. Still, while he's also smart enough get the hint to back off, hopefully he'll take my sincere advice to actually relax for once. "Did I miss anything?"

Considering how everybody else in the room ignores my question in favor of watching Olympia finishing off a upbeat tune on her oud — since she has all her focus on Beth, who bounces with laughter in Hazalle's lap, the victor is likely performing just for Peeta's niece's benefit; not that the music isn't nice to listen to for the rest of us — I doubt it. But hey, it never hurts to be sure.

Before I take my seat, the series of colors flashing outside causes me to stop to take a look down at the plaza. At this moment Annie and Finnick — at this moment, you wouldn't think that all those horrible things had happened to the victor just a couple months ago — are dancing to an upbeat tune performed by those Central kids who helped us liberate Twelve. I'm not the only person taking note of the latter's musical skills considering how intently Plutarch stares at a display screen.

"That band has quite the talent," he muses before turning to Porus. "Say, after this war is over, I'm possibly thinking of a new show. Perha—"

"For your own sake, you'll keep your cameras and greasy mitts to yourself and away from those boys," the Commandant growls, which immediately causes the Gamemaker to back off while Beetee shares a smirk with his other Central colleagues.

Despite her being a frosty bitch with no qualms about brutally ending lives, I'll admit that one thing I can appreciate about Porus is her commitment towards the people under her protection. Too bad she has no intention of extending that protection beyond the confines of this isolated community.

"So…" I say while plopping down on the seat and pouring a glass of mead for myself, "now that we all have filled ourselves with good food and congratulated the happy couple, I guess we all might as well get right to the point."

Except we don't, at least not initially. Instead, we go over the usual logistics and progress of the Rebellion, even though things have pretty much become cinched ever since the Nut fell and we gained control of Twelve. All that's left is the Capitol itself, and the plans for that already in the finalization stage with soldiers throughout the nation training for that final push. Eventually, however, talk about that finally leads to subject at hand:

Alma Coin.

It's no secret to anybody that she's the one poised to become President of Panem once we depose Snow. And to many in the districts, this woman who lives a life of austerity and has led the Rebellion against the Capitol's tyranny is a natural choice to replace the nation's current ruler. Well, it's a natural choice except to those who have become familiar with Thirteen's different flavor of tyranny, its honestly creepy rhetoric about population sustainability, and its leader's… charming disposition. Who knows what's going to happen once all of the Panem falls under her control.

Thing is, identifying the issues with Coin is the easy part. Now comes the part about what we're going to do. Not to mention another subject that's just as pleasant:

How will Peeta Mellark, current representative of the Rebellion, fit into all of this?

It's when those two subjects finally collide during the debate — it's brought up that, out of all of us, Peeta's the only one who'd actually be able to get close enough to kill Coin due to the latter not viewing him as a personal threat; a political threat on the other hand… — that I finally snap, "And who here thinks that the boy will actually go through with an assassination if given the chance?" And for once after almost half an hour of discussions, the whole room goes silent and still, which just causes me to lean back with a sneer. "Yeah, that's what I thought."

I'm not even going to fault Peeta on that, even with the possible repercussions. It's one of his many decent qualities, and I'll be damned — well, damned more than usual — before being party to something that changes him.

"So we just allow Coin to come to power?" asks Paylor. "I don't like the idea of putting Peeta in such a situation anymore than you, Haymitch, but if this conversation is any indication, that's the only real option we have with the minimal chance of it leading to another civil war."

"Well, the way things look, another civil war could be on the horizon anyways," I counter. "We might as well spend this time planning on how we'll remove Coin from power rather than going through all of these half-baked ideas to keep her from ascending in the first place."

Part of me soon regrets saying that. Because we not only do decide to focus on that… but the boy once again becomes the centerpiece of the discussion. In this case, it's the potential of him once again to be the face of this hypothetical Third Rebellion.

"Why are you all talking about Peeta as if he's just a machine to be directed around?" Hazelle snaps as she allows Beth to go back to suckling. "It's clear that he's not going to like being thrown back into the fray."

"But do you think he's going to refuse?"

Plutarch's question makes the idea of jabbing my knife into his pompous face very appealing. Except that I know he's right.

It's clear to me that this has become so much more than saving Katniss — granted, there's still that — to Peeta. He's honestly become invested in the principles of the Rebellion—no, scratch that… not the Rebellion; the Rebellion is just another power play. Rather the more I think about it, the more I'm sure that the boy has become invested in some ultimate ideal for the future of this nation… even if he doesn't know it yet.

Even if it kills him.

To think that I actually remember snippets of the boy before that fateful day over a year ago; yes, there have been times when I've left my house. I wouldn't exactly have called him carefree — sort of a given considering that household— but there was a certain youthful cheer he held, even for many his age and even through a good portion of time after that reaping. Also, I wasn't kidding when I once called him the "sane victor".

Now, however, there's a look in his eyes and certain way he carries himself that makes most of us older victors seem perfectly well-adjusted. Despite that, and I seriously don't know how he does it, he still somehow manages to keep things together at least in public. Those times when he does lose control however…

I'll admit that even I got caught up in all of Peeta's accomplishments throughout the course of this war, and I almost began to see him more as a symbol like everyone else. Even during those moments when he went absolutely bonkers, I thought nothing more than basic concern over the sanity of a colleague. But that moment when the boy broke down in my arms reminded what he really is: a kid who has practically lost everything and is now forced to play the part of an adult in some event no decent person should shoulder even partially.

For some reason, I take a look at one of the screens focusing on the current festivities and notice how everybody down there is actually happy. It makes me wonder whether we — the elders who nudge these children in a certain direction with the hope of them working and fighting for some greater good, despite the danger they face; a hell of a lot more danger than what comes our way — are the ones who are actually the real enemy.

"Haymitch."

"Huh?" I manage to be shaken out of my thoughts to see that everybody in the room is staring at me with varying degrees of expectation.

Not to mention a slight amount of irritation that seems to be afflicting Plutarch's face as if he were trying to ask me something before; then again, maybe that's what he was doing. "Do you think Peeta's going to accept the idea of staying involved?"

Even if we aren't the enemy, it's definitely clear as to what we are: "We're real pieces of work, aren't we."

To their credit, everybody — barring Plutarch and Porus; I still can't get a good read on the latter, so I don't think she counts — in the room looks slightly ashamed at my declaration. Well, at least we can acknowledge how FUBAR this all is.

"Yeah… more likely than not, he'll stay involved," I note. "Hell, you'll probably have to keep him from helping out too much."

"Well you all better make sure that you have his back the whole time," Hazelle adds with no small amount of venom.

Now that's out of the way…

"So what's the word on the districts?" Paylor asks. "I know that, while it was only a single event, Peeta's actions during the bombing resonated with the people in my district."

"Same goes for Bread Boy's attempt at donating his earnings," Chaff adds in. "Those two kids are heroes in Eleven even though they haven't even set foot there since the Tour."

"That's well and good, but the fact is that both Eight and Eleven are districts which would potentially benefit from Coin's policies. We can't rely on isolated incidents alone, so you're going to have to find some what of working from that and cultivating something that lasts," Plutarch tell both the commander and the victor. I'll admit that the Gamemaker raises a fair point and the two his addresses seem to agree as well.

"District Three may have been one of the first districts to rebel against the Snow," Mayor Charlton notes, "but if Coin's style of governance is how I imagine it to be, then I'm more than sure that the people will have no love for her either. So besides the fact that the people have expressed gratitude to Mellark for getting us to switch sides and eliminate the Peacekeeper presence, this district has grounds to oppose Coin." I notice that he doesn't mention Central, nor does Porus speak up about it. So I wonder if they're going to help, or if it's back to neutral seclusion unless they get prodded enough; probably the latter.

"Then there's the Career districts," says Lyme. Well someone had to state the obvious. "No matter how you cut it, chances are that they aren't going to be treated well after this is over; not even Four's early revolt is likely to spare it. Even in the small chance there aren't going to be retributive actions taken against the inhabitants, they're going to have no love for the new government. Already the soldiers from Thirteen are not that well-received in Two, even among many of our rebels."

"Not to mention how close they came to killing us," mutters Olympia. "On the less negative side, Peeta's speech at the Aedes Bellonae was well-received there. I know my son considers him an honorable boy, and the opinion is shared by many of those who used to be Peacekeepers. You wouldn't have thought that a year ago people hated him for supposedly being a 'deceitful little coward' during the Seventy-Fourth and, to add to that, an 'instigator that can't survive on his own' during the Quell and first part of the war. No offense Haymitch; I'm just paraphrasing."

Honestly, that just makes me chuckle. "None taken. The boy actually jokes about that fact. If anything, he thinks that all this praise he's getting is undeserved." Some of us are still utterly incredulous at Peeta's level of self-depreciation, to which I simply shrug. I've given up on attempts to figure him out a long time ago.

"Anyways, we'll probably have to make sure that the inhabitants of the Career districts don't do anything rash lest an excuse is given for Coin to issue retributive action." Lyme pauses for a moment and lets off a sigh. "Which is probably easier said than done."

"Speaking of which…" Cinnabar decides to turn to Porus with no small amount of hesitation. "Commander, do you mind if Olympia and I… well… 'accidentally' leave our children here when we go back to Two."

The Commandant doesn't seem to be thrilled with that suggestion. "Yes I do mind. Central is not some daycare for people to drop their kids off when times are tough outside." However, after a few minutes, she sighs, "What are the youths' skill sets? And should I be concerned about the Peacekeeper boy?"

In contrast to Porus' exasperated sigh, the one the redheaded victor releases is of relief. "My eldest is a decent mechanic, even if the vehicles are unfamiliar. She's even better at metalworking if you need a smith."

"And Marcus also has good maintenance skills, though in the realm of appliances, logistics, and infrastructure," Olympia adds. "Of course he's not happy about all the Peacekeepers who were killed by Central, but he understands the nature of war. As long as people here don't rub it in his face, and as long as your forces don't deliberately target civilians, he shouldn't be a problem. Also, he and Mercury will be able to look after the younger ones."

"One last thing," Cinnabar adds, and I know exactly what he's about to mention. "I also have a son." Judging by the way he looks at me, I also regret telling him the full details about what happened to that son.

"Cinnabar," I mutter with a sigh, "We can't guarantee Darius—"

"Well you can try," he growls. "I know it wasn't your fault my boy got Avoxed — may Romulus Thread forever rot — but it's your Rebellion that focused Snow's attention on him. And it's now your Rebellion that marches on the Capitol. So his fate is now your responsibility."

I hate being forced into a corner like this, but I don't disagree with my fellow victor. "If he's alive when we take the Capitol, we'll do what we can to get him out of there safely. Nothing more." With that, I turn to the Commandant to say, "The kid's also a Peacekeeper; a grunt actually. However, I've known him for several years, and he's consistently shown himself to be an independent thinker. If he wishes it, and if it's allowed, I'm sure he'll be a great contribution to your Corps." Cinnabar may not be pleased with my vague non-assurance about Darius' safety, but I think my recommendation to Central manages to placate him.

Several more minutes pass in silence before Porus finally relents. Of course, she doesn't forget to add on the usual sets of warnings should they cause any issues.

Getting back on track, I note, "I think Ten and Five are a bit of a crapshoot. Though I know someone from Ten; he's a decent guy, has connections, and is planning on going back to his district after the war's over. So we may be able to work something out from there. And I think Five is able to be swayed, though some persuasion will be needed." That district may be rebelling, but its overall atmosphere is about as enthusiastic as One's. Even if we can't get them to participate, they'll probably be receptive to the idea of neutrality.

Despite mentioning the potential of all these districts to be going up against Coin, nobody seems to want to mention the three Coin-loving elephants in the room. Well… nobody except for the Commandant: "What about Districts Six, Seven, and Nine?"

And as expected, everybody becomes uncomfortable at that line of questioning. Because the fact of the matter is that those three districts are obviously in line with Thirteen itself. Already they seem to be receptive to the general pro-worker political philosophy Coin espouses, and it probably doesn't hurt that those were the first three districts that were fully secured by the Rebellion. And so far, we don't have anybody that can help sway the populace as those districts never cared for their victors even when they were still around; hell, Johanna has no intention of going back to Seven as the damn rebels killed their remaining victors due to the neutrality of the latter.

Worst of all, it's not like we can dismiss the three districts as irrelevant in this grand scheme we're going over. Not only does that region provide near continuous land between Thirteen and the Capitol — the only thing that prevents it from being fully continuous is a large patch of Wilderness; considering that rail lines go through there anyways, it's not exactly an obstacle, and I'm sure Command's already figuring out ways to secure it — but there's the fact that they can ensure that Coin's side stays self sufficient even if all the other districts turn against her. Nine supplies grain that's already relied on for basic consumption throughout the nation, and the land in Seven can easily be converted to food production. In Six's case, there's the lovely factual triple-whammy that this district of note is in charge of heavy industry and steel production, has direct access to resources, and is the most populous among all the other districts. Oh, then we get add to those facts that, once Six was secure, Thirteen immediately began commissioning the place to create weapons, munitions, and military vehicles; I would not be surprised that the logical conclusion to this, after the war, will be the immediate emasculation of Two via the shutdown of all its weapons' factories.

Yeah… to say that this isn't going to be easy is a slight understatement.

"Well, there's nothing like a challenge, eh?" quips Chaff while slapping me across the shoulder.

"Hooray…" I mutter back before asking about the accompanying one-ton gorilla in the room, "And then what about Thirteen itself?"

This time, Boggs doesn't hesitate in explaining, "The plan is that once the Capitol is taken, Coin is going to shift the majority of the population, including all of the civilians, west. District Thirteen will still remain, but it will be specialized as a secondary military outpost."

"'Secondary'?" asks Paylor.

"The primary base is to be at the former city of Palatine, which will allow the Capitol to be fortified much more effectively than the current configuration. And the tertiary bases will be the restored Nut as well as Camp Mockingjay." Wonderful… "So the best thing we can do is to cultivate sympathetic elements and hope a movement grows from there. Contrary to popular belief, Thirteen does have a sizable group that isn't too fond of their president's regime."

"Also," Fulvia chimes in, "we can probably get a movement rolling among the denizens of the Capitol."

"Only problem with that is the fact that the Capitolites are already going to be under suspicion," Paylor counters. "Do you seriously think they'll risk their neck for this? If what you've said is true, it was hard enough to get Capitol allies against Snow."

"We may not be able to get an actual uprising against her," Plutarch's assistant concedes, "but we'll probably be able to have those in the city figure out possible flaws in her system."

Our little conspiratorial group continues to go back and forth as we scheme. That is, until Chaff decides to bring up the last sticking point:

"You know… most of us probably won't survive this. Hell, some of us may get picked off in the very beginning."

Funny thing is… that point causes the least discomfort amongst us.

"That's likely so," notes Boggs, "but then again, we're not doing this for us. We're doing it for them." To punctuate his statement, he tilts his head towards the window and then points at the display screens showing all those kids celebrating.

And this time, nobody argues.

~oOo~

I sometimes hate being right. Hell, I usually hate being right because the stuff I tend to predict tends not to bode well for anybody except for those who really should be benefiting from… well… anything.

In this case, I hate being right about Peeta's unwillingness to kill Coin.

It's been about two-and-a-half years since that opportunity passed us by. Over two years, and I still remember everything in detail.

For just the briefest moment, as the boy confronted our esteemed president after the Capitol Games vote, I actually thought otherwise; I actually thought he was willing to go through with it. It was clear that he was taking in his surroundings and looking at potential weapons.

But then his eyes fell upon us. Then they fell upon Annie's belly. And if that was not enough to dissolve his resolve, the moment his eyes flitted to Katniss, I knew that there was no way he was going to risk committing the assassination, even if he no longer cared about his own welfare.

The weird thing about recollecting the whole event is that the worst part wasn't the missed opportunity itself, despite all the unpleasantness that was heralded with Coin remaining alive. Rather it was witnessing the powerful expression of self loathing overtaking the boy's features as he watched said opportunity walk right out the door to take control of the nation. For some time, I honestly feared the possibility of finding him swaying from the end of a rope; hell, if it weren't for Katniss and the Hawthornes, I think such a thing would have easily happened.

And so, instead of taking the easy way out, he's done what we wanted for him to do. He's planned. He's made connections and ensured that the media spotlight remains favorable as long as possible. He's spent a good amount of time going through combat training — it wasn't easy, but we have managed to keep Camp Mockingjay and its soldiers sympathetic — and learning tactics, with Katniss there by his side. All the while he's maintained the image of a friendly and harmless baker.

Yep, he's doing everything we have wanted… and more.

We really are monsters.

Sometimes I wonder about some alternate universe where all those two kids don't have to worry about any scheming but could rather put all their energy into healing each other and simply growing together. Not that they haven't done the latter at all; their marriage this past spring was as genuine as could be, and not even having it televised for propo reasons could put a damper on their mood. But what I dream about is those kids not being obligated to concern themselves with politics for reasons of survival.

Because it's what they have to do right now; the fate of the others is testament to that.

Paylor's dead; shot by some unknown sniper. Plutarch and Fulvia are dead; things finally caught up with them, and they decided to bow out on their own terms rather than Coin getting captured and leaking information from the likely torture. Boggs and his soldiers are fugitives, and I honestly don't know where they're at. The victors in Two are constantly looking over their shoulders, and Lyme has already had several assassination attempts from "unknown assailants". Central has gone back into its shell and is puttering along as usual; though considering the hatred Porus has for Coin right now — in terms of memories that will stick with me in the nastiest of manners, seeing the Commandant's kid completely broken after the fight ranks up there with overseeing the Games, watching Twelve after a mine collapse, and witnessing Peeta's downward spiral — I think it's just a matter of when, not if, things finally fray.

And then there's what's happening to the nation itself…

FUBAR is an understatement.

Of course, I'm not just allowed to muse upon the fact. Instead, I get to be reminded by my television turning itself on for mandatory viewing.

As the camera pans through the Capitol, I still find myself struck at how much has changed. I never thought I'd miss all that garishness and unnatural color but there's a part of me that actually does, especially considering what has replaced it after the reconstruction; now all of the buildings have been clad in gray, with the only interruption in that austerity being projections and banners exalting the power of the state and reminding the populace of their civic duty. Somehow, Coin has managed to transfer the blandness of Thirteen to that city; at some level, I'm actually a bit impressed.

In any case, all that fades when we settle on the crowded City Circle.

There are a lot of things about Coin that unnerve and anger me: from her attitude, to her policies, to all the people lost in her quest for power. However, nothing showcases her twisted nature as well as the sculpture in the middle to the circle: Triumph of Rebellion.

On first glance, especially from a distance, there's nothing that disturbing about it; overbearing, yes, but not necessarily disturbing. It simply looks like a massive bronze sculpture of a man — supposedly it's modeled after the president's father, Jason Coin, in the prime of his youth — on a three-tier pedestal. The figure itself is over a couple hundred feet tall and poised towards the former Games Headquarters as if striding in that direction. While the right hand beckons, the left fist is held aloft and clenching thirteen blades as the Guiding Hand of Unity, the former symbol of Thirteen and the current symbol of this nation.

Nothing too out-of-the-ordinary about the second tier either, though it gives a good idea of Coin's values. Portrayed there are the Four Virtues, with each Virtue aligned in an intermediate compass direction. Loyalty is represented by a soldier and an official. Productivity has a factory worker and a farmer. A teacher — more accurately, a government approved instructor — showcases Purity. And lastly, Sustainability is of a mother surrounded by children; this one has always creeped me out the most. All Virtues are also larger-than life — about three times the size of a regular person — and look forward with purpose. In this case, that purpose would be to banish the figures of the bottom tier… and that's when things truly become horrifying.

Enter the Four Treasons, each oriented under their respective opposing Virtue. Treason of the State: self-explanatory, with not just enemy combatants but general rabble-rousers and those who shelter traitors in general. Treason of the Community: the elite and "bourgeoisie", food hoarders, those who participate in "frivolous activities", etc. Treason of the Mind: teachers of non-approved ideas, subversive artists, and the religious. Treason of Humanity: sexual and gender "deviations", as well as those afflicted by genetic disorders. All Treasons are represented by figures who're in the process of cringing away from the Virtues above them; what all of this represents is bad enough if not for the fact that, unlike the centerpiece and Virtue statues, these figures are real people. Real people who have been found guilty by the state and executed before being pumped full of some compound that preserves their bodies and allows them to be posed in a way that makes them caricatures of themselves.

Behold… our fruit of the Rebellion.

Rejoice.

Anyways, before I can think too much on that as well, her Evil Bitchiness steps out onto the balcony of the Presidential Mansion — one of the few places that didn't get the gray makeover — to address the cheering crowd. After the introductory parade of districts where flags of Panem's constituents are marched past her and the anthem is played — another holdover from Thirteen — Coin begins her speech with the national flag as a backdrop; similar to Thirteen's old one, except with the hand now surrounded by a fourteen-rayed sun. And I tune out to focus on my liquor; after a while, all her speeches and most of the executions blend together.

It's only when I hear a screeching noise that I pay attention.

No… they can't be…

They are. Because as the camera pans back to the boulevard leading between the Mansion and Games Headquarters, I see the statue of the first victor of the Hunger Games festooned with ropes that are in the process of tearing it down. As it tips over with a crash, the second victor's statue follows right on its heels. Then the third… and so on.

While this occurs, Coin pontificates about a new era requiring us to move forward and leave the legacy of Games behind.

In other words: we victors have finally become irrelevant.

Then again, it was only a matter of time.

Let's just hope the boy's prepared.

A/N: Suffice to say, and as hinted by the title, this story may get a bit dark. Darker than Vox.

Also, unless stated otherwise, default POV is Peeta's.