Although I slept most of the night, I'm still drowsy when I'm woken by my stylist. All I'm given to wear is a loose undershirt and shorts. My arena outfit is waiting for me wherever the arena itself is.

I'm guided to a spot on the roof where a hovercraft waits. After a quick look around—no one else is up here at the moment—I grab on and start to climb. Thankfully, it's not the longest distance up, and I'm not panting that much when I make it to the interior.

An assistant pulls me to the side as my stylist comes up—well, it's nice to know now that the ladder can lift itself—and steps into the main room.

"This is your tracker." He pokes at my inner forearm for a moment before readying the rather impressive needle in his hand. "The less you move, the less this will hurt."

I watch until the moment the needle punctures my skin and starts to depress.

Tracker, huh? Is there some way to escape the arena, then? I don't think the Gamemakers would be so sloppy. Still, you never know...

Maybe this is how they keep track of our vital signs, too. It wouldn't be good if they messed up on the cannon blows.

The man with the needle dabs my forearm clean of its spot of blood, and another assistant directs me to the dining area.

Although I try to occupy myself with breakfast, the ride still seems pretty long. There's a lot to think about that I try not to think about. Eventually I manage to direct my attention towards the idea of the arena itself.

While there's a chance the Training Center had some irrelevant stations, it would seem pointless to staff a lot of extra stands. The weaponry stations don't afford any clues to the arena's environment, but the survival skills booths... How many can I remember? Knot-tying, observation, fire-starting, edible plants, fishing, cleaning game—including rabbits—shelter-making...

Huh. So, some trees, and some ponds, at the least. Probably not many buildings if a lot of us are expected to make our own shelters. Aside from that... It's hard to say. Maybe I'll get a few more clues when I see my arena outfit.

A landing and some walking later, I get to find out. The outfit's actually pretty plain. A black, short-sleeved shirt with a dark green windbreaker. Black pants with a plain, black belt. Socks and dark boots that don't go far above my ankles.

So, unless they're trying to make us stand out, somewhere fairly dark and green. I'm thinking forest, probably pretty thick. But I guess I'll find out for sure soon.

There's no good spot on my outfit for my badge, so I deliberate for a minute before pinning it to the jacket, near where a lapel would be. It works.

...Where did Chief wear hers, in her Games? Hmm... I actually think the jackets were lapelled that year, so...

With a sigh, I sit at the couch by the dinner table. My stylist tries to make some small talk about the uniform, but all I get from it is that it might get cold at night. I would assume that anywhere, though.

And then I'm walking to my platform to enter the arena. The stylist wishes me luck, and up I go.

I'm launched into a vertical tunnel, not a light in sight. Closing my eyes—maybe if I'm not staring out into the sunshine right when I hit it, I won't get blinded quite as much—I take a deep breath. The backs of my eyelids start to glow red as the platform stops, but I don't open my eyes until the announcer, er, announces the Eleventh Hunger Games.

I have sixty seconds.

Shivering despite the comfortable temperature, I take a look around. Definitely forest, and mostly unbroken. We're on low ground, though, so it's hard to tell. A big cliff in the distance isn't so wooded, but I doubt anyone's going to be climbing it. Another, shorter, cliff is across from it, another behind me, and one more opposite that one, to my right. I can't make out anything else very far from me.

In front of me, of course, is the Cornucopia, overflowing with supplies. The other platforms are arranged in a large circle punctuated by some odd trees. To my right is... Didit? from 11, and then his district partner. Maya is on my left, but I can't see who's just beyond her.

All right. Maya's right here, at least. We'll grab some items, find the others, and stay out of White's and von Karma's way.

And by "the others," I mean... WP and Penny, for sure, and Edgeworth, and Gumshoe, and probably Maggey and Dustin and... Well, whoever comes with us, I guess. Huh. It's kind of hard to have a solid strategy when there are so few enemies.

At any rate, I should at least focus on what supplies we'll need. A good knife for our food—

The gong rings before I'm quite finished. Footsteps hammer the ground from all directions, but I'm barely off my starting plate when Maya makes it to my side.

"Food, Nick!" she says as we start closer to the Cornucopia. "We can't survive without food!"

"We could probably find some elsewhere—" But there's a saran-wrapped stick of salami not too far ahead. I might as well get her that much. There's no guarantee we'll find enough plants to keep us going at first, right?

"Okay, hurry!" Scooping up an empty plastic container on the way, I run alongside her to the meat. Popping open the lid mid-run, I chuck the salami inside the container and snap the lid back on.

A loud boom echoes around the Cornucopia.

W-what!?

At first, I check the immediate area, in case someone accidentally set off a flare or something, but I know very well what that sound was.

W-who would...? White? von Karma? Wait! W-who did you—?

But when I look to my right, I can see the corpse myself. Prone on the ground, blood pooling by her head, is Cindy. Just behind her is her district partner, one hand ripping a loaded canvas bag out of her grasp and the other holding up a bloodied hammer. Upon one look from me, he shrieks and runs off with the bag.

What... That was... his own district partner... I-it must have been an accident...

"Nick!" Maya tugs on my arm, and I crane my neck to see her pointing towards a set of knives in a red pouch.

Swallowing, I nod and hurry beside her to pick them up. She takes an over-the-shoulder bag and a bedroll before another cannon goes off. No, wait—another two? I-I think I heard two overlapping...?

Three people are dead. Three of us are dead...!

"W-we have to get out of here," I say, taking a few steps back. "Where's WP?"

Maya hurries a bit to the left, me in her wake. "I can't see him. Maybe he's just a little farther—Aah!"

Approaching us, knife in hand, is Manfred von Karma, a sick grin on his face.

"We—" I gasp—"we'll find the others later! For now...!" I give Maya a push towards the woods and start running. She whimpers and tries to keep up.

"WP!" I shout while we're still in von Karma's sights, anyway. "Edgeworth!"

By then, the trees are coming too fast for me not to concentrate on the run, so I seize Maya's arm and focus on getting away.


I'm pretty sure we've lost Manfred by the time we stop for breath. Maya tosses her cargo to the ground for a minute, and I set my things down beside me when I sit on a big lump in the grass. She lowers herself by my ankles, but I don't think it's time for another old joke. She seems to be in agreement.

I look over my shoulder. I can't hear much over a chorus of chirping things, but no one's crashing through the trees. No Manfred. No WP or Edgeworth, either.

They may have already fled. From all the broken twigs around, I'm pretty sure a person or two has already come this way. Maybe it will be one of them—

A cannon.

I do my best to keep breathing as Maya flinches.

This can't be happening. We're not supposed to be killing each other. There's no reason... N-no good reason, at least.

And even—even if they're all accidents, four of us are dead now. Which four? Cindy, and... Is Penny all right? Maggey? I can keep listing names, but... It won't help me figure anything out. Unless I'm unlucky enough to find another corpse, I won't find out until tonight at the recap.

After a minute, I push myself back to my feet. "We... should at least keep going until we find water, right? Here, I can take the heavier supplies now."

We load up and keep up the pace, heading away from the scene of the first crime.

I wonder how big the arena is this year. Those cliffs were pretty distant, but I can't be sure we'll actually be allowed that far. If there's not much space, we'll be able to meet up with the others a little more easily...

I'm watching my step when I suddenly fling my arm out in front of Maya. "Hold it!"

She jumps back. "W-what?"

Looking to the side, where the trees are a little bit more concentrated, I start, "It looked like others had stomped through here before... But doesn't it look a little... different up ahead?"

Maya leans forward, resting one hand in her elbow and the other by her cheek. "Something does seem a little odd..."

"Yeah. None of the twigs are broken anymore. Not even the ones on the ground." I look ahead again. "There aren't any footprints, either, but this grass doesn't hold them that well."

"Hmm." Maya looks up at me. "Maybe everybody just jumped across?"

"That's possible, but why?" I sidestep her to check out the trees on the right. They haven't really been touched, either.

When I glance at Maya, she's picking up a small but mossy rock by her feet. She looks over it for a second before tossing it ahead.

"Wait—" I say, but the stone is already sailing ahead.

And then it disappears.

"Whoa!" Maya's arms fly out from her sides a little. "Nick! Did you see that?"

"Yeah." I stare at the spot where the rock went, but I can't see any disturbance in the air before I hear a splash.

"Water?" She takes a step forward.

"Maya!" I grab her wrist. "There's something weird going on here—be a little more careful."

"Hey, I only took one step." She leans forward the slightest bit. "It's just a holograph-illusion kind of thing, right? With water on the other side? It didn't look like it hurt the rock going through."

"Well, we're not rocks..."

Maya sets down the container she'd had under her arm and extends her other wrist to me. "Okay, just hang on to me, and I'll lean in a teensy bit to get a peek through. How about that?"

"That's still—" I take her other wrist, and she tips forward before I can say any more. About half of her head disappears where the barrier is, but she doesn't squirm in discomfort, and she definitely still has a pulse. She lingers one more second before pulling back. Her face doesn't seem rearranged, so that's good...

Balling her fists, she looks at me, excited. "There's a stream over there. It looks pretty safe to me. I could really use a drink, too."

I cast a look behind us and exhale. I did say we needed to find water, although this is all pretty suspicious...

"Come on." She picks up the salami and knife pouch and rugs at the elbow of my jacket. "Just stay over by this side of the path, and there shouldn't be any trouble."

"Wait, why this side...?"

"Nick!"

"Okay, I'm coming!"

Although she still has a grip on my jacket, I can't help but gulp when the image of undisturbed wood swallows her up. Bracing myself, I put my hand through. I don't even feel a tingle. Maybe it's just a smoke-and-mirrors type of thing...

Maya has stopped, so I swallow and step up next to her. The illusion passes through, and suddenly there's a stream in front of me. More shaded forest—still untouched—spreads out beyond it, but what commands more of my attention is the bank a little to my left. A rim of stone juts out from the grass on the far bank of the stream, and right now it's decorated with a splash of blood.

Did someone trip? Yeah... Now that I look at it, the width of the stream is a little less than the height of the average guy. And if someone came running through, losing their footing on the muddier bank before they ever knew it was there...

I hope they're all right... But, by the look of the forest ahead, they didn't get out of the stream...

W-wait! Bobbing downstream—is that... the bag the 11 took at the bloodbath...?

"Hey." Maya, farther upstream, frowns at the blood splatter but puts on a smile when she catches my eye. "Are you getting any water or what?"

"...Yeah." I kneel by the stream and dip a hand in.