A/N: Hello! Welcome to the 125th Hunger Games! I've been dying to write a Quarter Quell, so yes, I changed Panem's history a little bit.

The 75th Games was not made up of previous victors. It was something completely different. So there has been no revolution. The Districts were subdued by the Capitol and calmed down by Peeta and Katniss's wedding. So there has never been a revolution, just some temporary unrest.

President Snow is dead, and has been replaced by a successor.

And on that note, enjoy! :)

I've never liked the fact that broadcasts from the Capitol are required viewing.

I would probably watch them anyways, just to keep myself up to date on what's going on in Panem. But the fact that I'm forced to watch it gives me the slightest urge to just keep myself away from a broadcast.

This one must be about the 125th Hunger Games, the 5th Quarter Quell.

The first Quell involved voting for the tributes. The second Quell saw twice as many tributes. The third Quell was completely weaponless. The fourth Quell was completely sponsorless.

I was anxious to see what the fifth Quell would have in store.

My father and older brother gathered in our District 10 community Square in the middle of town right as the broadcast began. President Lock appeared on the screen.

"Greetings Panem, and welcome to the announcement of the Fifth Quarter Quell!" he said with enthusiasm, as if we were to enjoy the fact that an Ultimate Hunger Games was about to commence.

I'm seventeen years old, and therefore this was my first Quarter Quell, and I must admit I was curious. I saw my brother shake his head with a frown. He'd only just been born before the fourth Quell. Could he remember the horror? Doubtful.

"Let us be remembered of the reason we celebrate the Quell…" President Lock continued.

He proceeded to explain the history of the Quarter Quell. After a more detailed than necessary history of each of the four Quells, he finally opened a small box that sat in front of him.

"Now, let us discover how our forefathers determined we celebrate our fifth Quarter Quell…"

He pulled out an official-looking envelope and delicately opened it.

"As a reminder that not even the brightest among us may escape the power of the Capitol, this year's tributes will be selected based on an intelligence test that was recently given to all eligible tributes. On Reaping Day, the highest scoring tributes will be delivered immediately to the custody of the Capitol to be trained in the art of survival in preparation for this year's Hunger Games."

President Lock slipped the card back into the envelope and concluded the broadcast with a simple, "Thank you. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor."

The screen blacked out. My father looked nervous. He grabbed my shoulders. "Lila, what did you score on that test?"

His concern surprised me. "I-I'm not sure. They didn't tell us our scores. They didn't even tell us what it was for."

"Did you try your best?"

"Sure. I always do. That's one of the mottos of the District. Give your one hundred percent at all times."

My father's eyes grew wide with worry, then he ran his fingers over his balding head and sighed. "As much as I like to think that you're the smartest girl in the world, for once I just hope that isn't true…"