In case it isn't obvious from the dialogue/implications, this prologue takes place immediately after this Hunger Games concludes ^^ But there won't be spoilers for who wins, just the relief of it finally being over for everyone in the staff!

00 - The Beginning of the End

"Is it…" They all stared at the screens in silence. "Is it over…?"

She stared at the victor—the latest in a long line of winners—on the screen with her jaw slightly dropped. Malvolia couldn't believe how hard her heart with hammering in her chest, how much pain was in her enlarged belly as she supported it with one of her hands. Her water had broken an hour ago, but she couldn't afford to leave at such a pivotal moment in the Hunger Games. She had to see it through to the end.

The Eighty-Fifth Hunger Games was finally over.

Caesar, making his final announcement of the Games before his retirement, introduced Panem to their newest victor. Everyone in the room, every Gamemaker and expert, released relieved breaths. They'd all been holding it in, uncertain of what was happening in front of them.

Beside her was Lola Amos, the very young, very new member of staff for the annual event, stared at Malvolia with wide eyes. Her lavender hair was almost free of its braid, the stress and hype of the final three affecting her just as much as anyone else.

"This is it," Lola said weakly. "After this, I take over."

Malvolia smiled down at her. After the events of the former President's assassination, everyone was so nervous about the new structures and responsibilities. But now it was over and done with, and they could all release the tension in their shoulders. Even Lola, who had only shadowed everyone to get a feel for the job.

"You won't have as much pressure as the rest of us did," Malvolia reassured her. Lola nodded. She adjusted her jacket and looked down at the mess at Malvolia's feet.

"Should we go to the infirmary?"

Malvolia breathed out a laugh. With all the stress she'd gone through, she was surprised to think to herself that she was relieved to be able to give birth now. She didn't need to force it in for just five minutes more. "That's a good idea."

"The calls are coming in!" One of the other Gamemakers was cheering at his chair. "Holy crap, we actually did it! Ms. Nero, look at these search results—"

"Email them to me," Malvolia called over her shoulder. "I don't think I can keep Little One at bay much longer."

He waved her off as another Gamemaker flew to his side to view the search results.

"God damn," they said. "It's like everyone stopped mourning the last President and started celebrating this kid."

As Malvolia left the room with Lola, her pants feeling awkward and damp even after all the time she'd given them to dry, she smiled to herself. Making everyone forget Corialanus was exactly what they'd needed to do, and they'd done it with flying colours. The chatter behind her was confirmation of that—one intern even remarked that he'd forgotten about the former President entirely as they monitored the Games.

And to think it all took two weeks. Two weeks of preparation for the arena. Two weeks of showcasing tributes and judging them one by one. Two weeks in the arena.

Two weeks, and they'd managed to catch the attention of every single citizen of Panem.

The small phone in her pocket began to vibrate, forcing Malvolia to come to a halt with a panic. Only Celestia had the number for it, and if she was calling now then something must've gone wrong.

Lola watched her with wide eyes again as she accepted the call and greeted her President with a worried, "Did we choose the right one?"

There was silence on the other end, Celestia almost inaudible outside of her soft, almost whimpering breaths. Was she crying? Did she choose the wrong one?

After what felt like an eternity of waiting, of the pain in her belly, Celestia let out a small huff of a laugh.

"Do you think Grandpa would be proud of me?" There was a slight waver in her voice, a sign that she was well and truly crying. Malvolia hadn't seen, let alone heard, the woman cry in ten years—even after Corialanus's death Celestia was calm and composed.

It made the excitement already coursing through her swell into pride.

"He'd want an encore, Celly," Malvolia declared.

Celestia laughed weakly, amused by the reply. It was never in Corialanus's nature to want encores of Hunger Games, but this was the truth. With how well they'd performed their first ever Hunger Games together, the man would crawl out of his grave and personally tell his granddaughter how proud he was.

(As morbid as the image was, Malvolia realised, it wasn't far from the truth. Corialanus adored Celestia, more than his own children and other grandchildren.)

"Then how about we give him a show for next year?"

"I would be honoured, President Snow."

She smiled despite the urgency she felt, the contractions that were starting to set in. A new generation of Hunger Games was afoot, bigger and better than the last.

And all it took was two weeks.

Welcome to my partial, Ad Aeturnum! This fic will serve as a prequel of sorts to Ad Mortem/Ad Meliora, and reveal a bit about Malvolia Nero and Celestia Snow in their first year in power/as Head Gamemaker. Since this is a partial, I should warn you all that only one of my tributes will win - but that doesn't mean the sixteen others sent in won't get a piece of the limelight. Every tribute will get a POV up until the arena launch, and any other will be based on who survives the bloodbath.

If this isn't your cup of tea, then I hope you at least stay to read and see where this goes! If it is, then you'll find the form for Ad Aeturnum and the link for its blog at the top of my profile! Brief information will be in the form's opening section, as well as which Districts will be immediately available. And if you want to send an escort, there's a form link underneath the link to the tribute form!

I hope to hear from some of you soon!