Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men or The Hunger Games.

Note: I wasn't originally planning on starting the collection chapters until I got back from our family trip, but in my rush to finish Camp NaNoWriMo, I actually got this written, too, so here's the first of seven collections.

I've also discovered a deep loathing for time zone conversions, but I'm relatively sure that the numbers work out. Trying my best to keep it realistic here. Right. I'm trying to keep a superpowered Hunger Games realistic. Anyway.

The Only Thing

Nicholas Wright, 63
Secretary of Mutant Affairs

March 15th, 06:32 EST

He still wasn't quite comfortable around the Sentinels.

Nicholas shook his head. He didn't like being followed around by the robots. And he certainly didn't like sending them to collect one of the contestants on their own. But it simply hadn't been practical for any of them to make a side trip to Hawaii to collect one contestant. He would simply have to hope that the Sentinels did their job properly.

But if they didn't … well, it was on his shoulders. The girl was his responsibility. He'd distributed the contestants, after all, and made sure that he would be the one to take the blame if something went wrong there. He'd also taken some of the more difficult contestants for himself.

Of course, they could only take their best guess about which of the contestants would be the most difficult to capt—no, to apprehend, he corrected himself. Mack was right. It was easier to think about apprehending possibly dangerous contestants than to focus on what would happen to them afterwards.

It had to be done, of course. After some reservations, he had been the one to call for a vote on the Games, and had been one of the first to decide in their favor. What they were about to do was brutal. Maybe even inhuman. But it was necessary in order for humanity to survive.

Nicholas glanced up at the Sentinels above him as he made his way down the street. It was barely dawn on a Saturday morning; most people were still in their homes. But, according to his records, the first mutant on his list didn't have much of a home. This small town on the outskirts of Indianapolis didn't even seem to be his permanent residence – just the most recent place anyone had seen him.

But that wasn't any hindrance to the Sentinels. "Mutant detected," one of them droned, indicating an alleyway with a sweep of its arm.

Nicholas nodded his confirmation, holding up a hand as he approached. "Stay here." He might have to use the Sentinels as backup, but if he sent them in initially, they would probably cause more harm – and panic – than necessary. If the mutant could be apprehended without a fuss, that would be better – for everyone.

But was that even a possibility?

Hadley Cadolyn, 17
Pendleton, IN

06:36 EST

He wasn't initially sure whether the voice was real or not.

Hadley glanced around, startled, as he staggered to his feet and the voice repeated his name. "Hadley Cadolyn?" Who was here? Who knew his name? Even Lucy didn't know his full name – or, at least, he was pretty sure she didn't. As certain as he was about anything anymore.

Which wasn't very certain. He couldn't always tell, anymore, what was real and what wasn't. Was there a voice? Was he imagining it? Was he causing it?

He could see a man – an older man, leaning on a cane – as he turned around, but that didn't mean much, either. Sometimes he could see things that weren't there. Sometimes, it seemed, he could cause them to appear, because other people responded to them, too. But not always. Not enough to be certain.

Hadley took a step back as he saw the robot behind the man. Okay. This was real. He'd never seen one in person, but he'd heard of them. Sentinels. Immediately, he took off running. Down the street. Up the wall of the dead end. "Leave me alone!"

Most of the time, people did. They left him alone without even asking. And maybe he was better off that way. Maybe the world was better off that way. Not that he cared. What had the world ever done for him? Why should he do the world any favors by caring about what made it better?

He was on the roof now. How had he gotten there? That wasn't good. That meant that he was exposed. One of the robots was almost on top of him. Hadley fell to his knees, his eyes squeezed shut as a splitting headache spread through his mind. He could feel the roof shifting. Maybe if the roof caved in, the Sentinels wouldn't be able to find him.

Suddenly, something slipped around his neck. There was a light click, and everything stopped shaking. Hadley opened his eyes to see the roof solidifying. The old man from the alleyway was standing beside him, holding something that looked like a remote control.

Hadley stared. Everything was clear. Clearer than it had been since two years ago, when his mind had begun doing … whatever the hell it was that it did. Hadley staggered to his feet. "What did you do?" How had he stopped it?

The man actually smiled a little. "I could ask you the same thing. You just ran up a wall onto a roof and almost turned it into jelly. That's pretty impressive, son."

Hadley took a step backwards. Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. "What do you want?"

"I want to help you. I have friends who can help you learn to control your abilities. Come with me."

Come with me. The man's voice was strangely inviting. Hadley took another step back – almost to the edge of the roof. It was too good to be true. People had offered to 'help' him before. 'Help' almost always meant drugs. One or two had tried to take him to a mental institute. Maybe that was where he belonged.

But it wasn't where he wanted to be.

Without thinking, Hadley jumped off the roof. There was a garbage bin below, but he didn't make it that far. One of the Sentinels had been standing in the alleyway below, and now its huge hand closed around Hadley, catching him firmly and not at all gently.

Hadley squirmed. "Let me go!" He kicked at the robot, but it was useless. The robot held him fast as it flew back to the roof, landing next to the old man, who was reaching into a briefcase.

Hadley thrashed harder as the man removed a syringe from the case. "Don't! You can't! I'll—"

But that was as far as he got. The needle plunged into his shoulder, and there was nothing he could do about it. "I'm sorry," was the last thing he heard as the world began to grow blurry.

But he already knew that was a lie.

Victoria Ramirez, 21
Aurora, IL

07:12 CST

How long had they been pounding on the door?

Victoria rubbed her eyes as she sat up, startled. She glanced at the clock again, just to make sure she had read it right. Who would be coming to see her at seven in the morning? What was so important that it couldn't wait until a reasonable—

A glance out the window answered her question. Sentinels. She'd seen them on the news, but never in person. What were they doing here?

There was only one answer to that, of course. Someone had discovered her power. Ratted her out. And now they had come to … what? Capture her? Experiment on her?

Kill her?

She'd heard rumors, of course. Rumors that the Sentinels had been attacking mutants – even killing them. And she had no desire to put those rumors to the test. She had to get away.

Okay. They were at the front door. There was a Sentinel on the lawn to her left. But to the right? There were no windows facing that direction in her bedroom, so she could only guess. The back door led that way. It might be clear.

There was no guarantee, but it was her only chance.

Down the stairs. Out the back door. Victoria took off as fast as she could, but she barely made it to the neighbor's yard. A giant hand closed around her. "Help!" she called as loudly as she could. "Help!"

A few people on the street turned to watch. But none made a move to help. She had thought that by moving to a suburb of Chicago, by surrounding herself with people, that she would be able to blend in. There were so many people.

But none of them seemed to care.

In fact, the only one who didn't turn and look away was a man – an older man with a cane who approached the Sentinel. "Bring her here," he instructed, and the Sentinel lowered her.

"Please … please help." If she could only touch him. In order to give his mind a push, she had to touch him. She had to make eye contact. That was the only downside of her power – she needed physical contact.

But the only physical contact came when his hand brushed against her neck as he slipped a metal collar into place. "Please let me go."

To her surprise, the man shrugged. "Let her go," he instructed the Sentinel.

For a moment, she dared to hope that maybe her power had worked. Maybe she had somehow managed it with only that brief touch, without even making eye contact. "Now take this collar off." Maybe she was pressing her luck, but if she was really in control…

"No."

She took a few steps forward and grabbed his arm. He gazed back into her eyes, smiling a little as she gave the command again. "Take the collar off."

"No."

The word hit her like a wave. No one had ever told her no before. Well, no one except her brother, Diego. She'd never been able to push him. But everyone else … they always did what she said. Always.

Even when she didn't mean it.

Was that it? Was that why they had come? Had someone finally figured out what had happened to her sister? She had never meant for that to happen. And she had been careful ever since then. She had left home. She had never intentionally used her powers to hurt anyone. Only to get what she wanted.

And right now, she only wanted them to let her go.

But the old man only repeated the answer. "No. I'm sorry, Victoria, but you're coming with us." He reached into a briefcase and removed a syringe. Victoria turned to run, but the man pressed a button on some sort of remote. Pain coursed through her body, and she crumpled to the ground. Something sharp entered her shoulder, and everything went black. Victoria fought back tears as consciousness left her.

Why hadn't he listened?

Akil Turell, 18
Saginaw, MI

09:55 EST

He didn't even notice the Sentinels at first.

Akil glanced up, startled, as the illusion faded and he found a robot standing over him. He normally didn't use his power much at all – let alone use it to project into his own mind – but the day had been so miserable so far. He'd barely escaped from the police after "stealing" a perfectly good slab of meat someone had been about to feed to their dog. He had managed to project the image of another dog rushing in to swipe it, when, in reality, he had stolen the meat himself.

Unfortunately, he couldn't project into more than one mind at a time. He had successfully fooled the woman, but not a man who had happened to glance in their direction. The man had shouted for the cops, who had chased him for nearly five blocks before giving up and deciding it just wasn't worth their trouble.

Then it had started to rain.

So he had settled down in an alleyway with his breakfast, soaking wet and out of breath. And he had projected an image into his own mind. An image of warm, dry sand on the beach. The rain became the sound of the waves lapping against the shore of Lake Huron. The raw meat became a hot, juicy hamburger, and the rainwater became a cold soda. Nothing fancy. Just normal.

The normal life he had never had.

But now the spell was broken, and the robot reached for him. Akil clambered to his feet, reaching out to the Sentinel's mind. But there was nothing to reach. No one to project to. Except a man. A man standing by the Sentinels.

But what to project? What would save him? He had only an instant to decide, and, in that instant, a lion appeared, racing towards the man with the Sentinels. The man stepped back, startled, but didn't move, and the Sentinels were unaffected. Akil turned and ran as quickly as he could, darting into a second alleyway, but the Sentinels were faster. After only seconds, a cold robotic hand closed around him.

"Let me go!" he called. "Tell them to let me go, or the lion will eat you!" But the lion had already run off. Damn. He had thought he was getting better at controlling exactly how his illusions behaved, but, in his panic, it had gotten away from him.

"That was actually quite impressive," the old man said softly. "I knew there couldn't possibly be a lion in the alleyway, of course, but I saw it, nonetheless. And I almost believed it was going to eat me. In fact, if I hadn't known about your … abilities beforehand, Akil, I probably would have fallen for it."

Not probably. Definitely. But he'd never tried to use his power on someone who was aware that he was using it. He wasn't stupid enough to go around telling people about his power. His family had known, of course, but he hadn't seen his family in … what? Seven years? Had it really been that long?

"What do you want with me?" Akil demanded, shaking. He hadn't hurt anyone – not really. Certainly not intentionally. He was just trying to survive – nothing more.

"I want to put this on you," the man said gently, holding out a collar. Akil could make out some letters and numbers on it: V-0106. What did that mean? He squirmed and thrashed as much as he could as the man made his way towards him, holding out the collar as if approaching a wild dog he meant to tame.

Maybe that was what he was. A wild dog. Maybe he had spent so much time on the streets that they thought of him as an animal. Just another creature to catch and … what? Experiment on? Imprison?

Kill?

But there was nothing he could do to stop it. Nothing he could do as the man slipped the collar around his neck, and it clicked shut. It was all he could do to lurch forward and snap at the man's hand – almost like a dog – as he pulled it away. Akil could taste blood in his mouth, and the man drew his hand back, startled. "You didn't need to do that."

Of course I did. The man had no right to complain – not when he almost certainly had far worse in store for Akil. Akil glared as the man produced a syringe and plunged the needle into his shoulder.

He only wished he'd bit him harder.

Cassidy Cruze, 16
Kahuku, HI

15:24 HAST

"Totally rad, sis!"

Cassidy shook the water from her hair as she strode over to where her brother, Castor, was standing, along with Nico and Teresa. Her last run had been her best, but the competition today was tougher than ever. It had been tempting – so tempting – to use her power to alter the waves just a little bit. Just enough to give herself an edge.

But she hadn't. She never did. Partly because it wouldn't be fair, and partly because she was afraid of what might happen if anyone noticed, if any of her competition – or even her friends – began to suspect that she was a mutant.

Her brother knew, of course – and their parents, as well. After she had come ashore with fins, gills, and scales after one surfing practice, it hadn't taken her instructor long to put the pieces together. Her parents had been reluctant to let her back in the water, but after discovering that water-repellent lotions would keep her physical transformation at bay for more than two hours, they had finally conceded.

That didn't mean they were happy about it, of course. On the one hand, she understood. They were afraid for her. For her safety. Anti-mutant sentiments were growing – even here, in the relative solitude of Hawaii. If someone discovered her powers…

On the other hand, she knew she couldn't live in fear of that. She wouldn't let that keep her from doing what she loved. When she was in the water, she felt so … so free. She couldn't imagine giving that up.

Cassidy stood with her fellow surfers, listening as the scores were announced. Name after name was called. "Cassidy Cruze—"

But that was as far as the announcer got, because he was interrupted by three giant robots that suddenly landed on the beach. Gasps and cries filled the air. Sentinels. What were they doing here?

One of the Sentinels stomped its way towards here. "Mutant identified. You will come with us."

"Why? I didn't do anything wrong."

Wrong thing to say. The people around her stepped back as she realized. She'd all but confirmed that she was the one they were looking for. The mutant. Even Nico stepped back, alarmed, as the words mutant and cheater filled the air. But Teresa simply shot him a glare before taking Cassidy's hand and squeezing it. Cassidy squeezed back, giving her friend a grateful smile.

Castor, meanwhile, had managed to gather some of their friends, who now stood between her and the Sentinels, forming a shield of sorts. But one of the Sentinels simply raised its hand towards them, and a sonic blast filled the air. As her friends fell beside her, Cassidy grabbed her surfboard and fled. The water. She would be safe in the water.

Another blast – some sort of laser – struck her surfboard, slicing it in two. "That was my favorite surfboard!" she called back, trying to sound like she was simply annoyed. Like this was nothing more than a nuisance. She was almost to the water. She was always safe in the water. She flashed a smile at the Sentinel as she leapt into the tide. "Catch me if you can!"

Summoning a current, she quickly propelled herself along the shoreline, barely glancing back at the stunned crowd. They weren't important now. Nothing was. Nothing but the water. The water that would save her from the Sentinels.

Just as she was beginning to think that maybe – maybe – she would actually get away, something struck her. A blast of some sort, knocking her down. Her body went limp in the waves, which quickly washed her ashore. She could feel the sand against her scales.

Her scales. Through blurry vision, Cassidy could see that she had, in fact, transformed. Scales lined her body, with fins protruding from her back and gills along her neck. She gasped, exhausted, as her body struggled to figure out whether it should use her gills or her lungs to breathe. As the world grew darker, she could see the Sentinels approaching.

Then everything went black.

Nicholas Wright, 63
Secretary of Mutant Affairs

19:23 AKST

Everything was going perfectly.

Nicholas stretched his legs as the plane finally landed. His three passengers were still sedated in the back of the airplane. The fourth mutant was on her way from Hawaii, unconscious but unharmed.

He could only hope the others hadn't had any problems, either.

He'd heard from some of them, but he was the first to arrive. Of course, he'd only made three stops – and those had been rather close together. Now that he thought about it, maybe he'd been kind to himself when he'd chosen the mutants he would retrieve. He hadn't had any significant problems. And he was home with plenty of time for dinner.

No. Not 'home.' Home would have to wait. He'd called Margaret and spoken with her; Rose had been at one of Elliot's basketball games. A perfectly normal Saturday. A perfectly normal life.

And it was that normal life that he was fighting to protect.

Some of the board had reservations, he knew. And that was good. He would be worried if his board had all been in favor, if there had been no hesitations about sending twenty-nine mutants to their deaths. None of them wanted this. But it had to be done.

And there was no turning back now.

"The only thing I'm guilty of is fighting for people like us."