Warning: Do not read this if you are looking for something to cheer you up, it won't. This is the penultimate chapter. I might write an epilogue on request.
Before I forget: Felix Felicis, have a bowl of cookies. Do share it with your sister^^.
Thank you all for your wonderful reviews.
Games 75
Peeta and Katniss' only crime was survival yet hate coursed through Mercury's veins. The couple from Twelve was about to destroy the one little corner of happiness she had manage to salvage in this unforgiving world.
One mere chance in four that neither her nor Aster would be thrown in the arena again. Such luck would mean Volts and Wiress would be.
She took a deep breath, composed as always for the cameras.
It was a treacherously beautiful day. The cool wind caressed the four victors' faces as they awaited their potential death sentence.
The escort's red outfit reminded her of the sovereign magi of old fantasy books. It suited him perfectly, but for once, he looked ancient. More importantly, Dante hated red. She could see it, in the precise economy of his movements and the stiffness of his expression. Dante was furious. So furious he hadn't trusted himself to visit them before the reaping.
The escort solemnly walked towards the almost empty ladies' bowl first, breaking with his habit of theatrical speeches before the draw.
"Wiress Nebula," he read in clipped tones.
Aster and her shared a pained but relieved look. Volts would go with her, even if he wasn't reaped. Mercury would be the woman's mentor. How ironic.
Tears ran unchecked down her pale cheeks.
Dante didn't say a word about the man accompanying a deathly pale Wiress up the platform, his hand reaching for the second slip.
"Beetee Morse."
So be it.
Dante had lied.
It hadn't been Wiress' name but hers on that paper.
She was certain of it now that she saw the list of other victors. The ones selected were the ones with the most ties to the Capitol, the ones who the media spoke the most about. Blueblood's protection couldn't extend that far. His mansion was long finished.
Wiress been reaped made no sense in a rigged reaping. She had lived her life isolated, immersed in her research, dependent upon an undisturbed routine, feeling safe only with Volts close. Aster would never have idly watched her enter the arena. Reaping Mercury and Volts would effectively have killed Three's four victors.
Only Dante knew.
Wiress was waiting for her just outside the restrooms. Mercury steadied herself on the wall as the train followed the winding railways of District Two.
"What is the strategy?" Wiress asked, her eyes downcast.
Mercury blinked. Wiress truly expected to be mentored?
"Let's go sit down," the younger woman said, taking Wiress' arm.
She should have expected it. Wiress was most comfortable when following a clear set of rules. The rules said Mercury and she had to develop a strategy together. Mercury's nails were digging so hard into her hand she could feel skin tear. Her expert mask was slowly slipping. She couldn't do this.
Wiress winning would make no sense if Volts was dead.
If the orphan had to choose, she would save Enobaria, and Enobaria would certainly try to kill Wiress: while victors numbed themselves with an incredible array of chemical substances, suicides were almost unheard of. Survival had etched itself in their DNA, overriding every shred of remaining humanity.
Her mind rebelled at the thought. How could she just sit behind a screen in the Capitol and wait for them to die?
Just like all the other times. Her treacherous mind-voice, who had taken to sound uncannily like Mesmer, whispered.
No. Not this time.
A bitter laugh rose in Mercury's throat as Katniss and Peeta's twelves in training flashed on screen. Snow was as transparent as a child.
There was something in the air. The unrest in Eight had evidently been much more severe than they'd been led to believe: Capitol people were wearing the same outfits days in a row. Seeder had all but told her Eleven's uprising hadn't been subdued despite the official line the Capitol media kept to. There had hardly been any fish in the train-rides banquet. Little but significant details: the spark evidently had caught.
Mercury stifled a vindictive snicker, so much for Snow's forest fire management.
She also noticed that some of the victors were much too calm. Johanna could've been much more verbally aggressive, Haymich hadn't vomited on anyone yet and Volts had told her 'I wonder what that bastard Plutarch has prepared.'
The bespectacled victor was a very precise man. Plutarch had been recognized by his father. The word 'bastard' was therefore inappropriate. Volts was telling her there was something about Plutarch.
The new Head Gamemaker had been appointed by Snow himself. She'd thought that meant he was Snow's lapdog. Instead she learned through discreet word-signing with Dike that Snow thought him harmless because he had no apparent personality. Yet he'd volunteered for the Head Gamemaker job. A sudden spike of ambition? Family pressure?
"I want to nuke something," Johanna confided in her.
Mercury had been leaving to meet with Enobaria.
"You were saying?"
Johanna rarely talked to her. The fact Mercury was always calm and only gave reasonable, rational and generally obscure (although Mercury begged to differ) advice grated on the more passionate victor's nerves. At least Mercury had been spared an unflattering nickname, although Wiress didn't seem to mind 'Nuts' so much.
"You know, big bombs, big destruction, something better might grow over it." The other woman said, not quite wind-milling her arms.
Mercury granted her an encouraging smile. Johanna's attempts at delivering coded messages were almost cute.
"Warn me if it's anywhere near my house."
"There's always collateral damage. I can't see Plutarch not mucking things up..." Johanna muttered bitterly before abruptly heading away.
Mercury pondered those words as she headed down to the second floor. Nukes had last been used on Thirteen. Collateral damage in Three, even if Johanna used atomic weapons, would only happen if the bombing was accompanied by a full rebellion.
That rebellion was in the air was now certain, but how big a rebellion? And why mention Plutarch if it was obvious Snow was behind the Quell? Johanna would not have bothered not blaming the President directly.
Plutarch evidently had a major role in this. Hunting rebels? That was a laudable activity in the Capitol, it would be known. Plutarch was laying low because he was a rebel?
Whatever it was Volts knew about it too.
"Careful, Mercury."
She'd nearly collided into Dante.
"Just thinking about Johanna wanting to nuke Plutarch."
"Don't worry about it." The man said, squeezing her shoulder. His eyes were glinting.
Alright, let the others do the scheming. She wondered why Dante would know and not her. Maybe Effie? If the reaped victors were in the loop, why couldn't she be told?
"Fine." She said with a shrug, deciding investigating further would only cause harm to those trying to be discreet. She would know soon enough.
"Brutus looks ready to cry from happiness." Pia said, pity and disgust lacing her tone.
"He will kill them! He won't even think about it!" Pan spat, violently upturning a table in anger.
"Cool it, Lumberjack. That's my booze you're about to stain the floor with." Haymich said, his eyes narrowed in warning. Despite the aggressiveness, he was as sober as Mercury had ever seen him.
"Then finish the damn bottle, that's what you do no?" Blight's mentor shot back. The non-Career mentors all shared a big room. Mercury was saddened that the situation hadn't enabled the victors to overcome their differences. She wondered what Phoenix and the other Career victors were thinking right now.
"It's not going to happen before the bloodbath, is it?" Mercury whispered, her lips almost touching Haymich's ear as she leaned over to borrow his whiskey and took a swig.
"Not even for your beautiful eyes, Darling!" Haymich growled, grabbing his bottle back. "No," he added pointedly.
Aster pulled her back on his knees, his body so tense that Mercury was afraid he'd snap.
She screamed when Seeder collapsed on the ground, lifeless eyes frozen in a silent cry for help.
Strong arms grabbed her and dragged her out of the room.
"We'll give you the short version." Haymich said, a strange gleam in his eyes. He let Aster out before slamming the door.
"Wiress and Beetee are safe." Aster muttered, letting himself fall on the ground besides her.
What does safe even mean anymore?
"The arena will make up for those who won't kill each other," Mercury said in dead tones. "I hope Finnick dies next so that the Capitol revolts."
On the second day of the Games - the Games with the most insolent tributes ever - they were verbally thrashing the Capitol whenever they had the chance, something even the editing failed to conceal. What could Snow have possibly been thinking? - in the early morning, Dante burst in the room where she and Aster were monitoring their friends' situation.
"I have found us a sponsor, but he wants us to come to him. Hurry!" He said excitedly.
"Both of us?"
"He was adamant, Mercury. And I know him personally, he's no crook."
"Sure."
It was an uncommon but not unheard of demand. People here had big egos.
"He wants Wiress to finish the prototype that she mentioned in the news because he believes it would augment hovercraft autonomy, but first he wants to clarify a few points."
"Like, can the two of us do it in case Wiress dies?" Mercury replied, sarcasm lacing her voice.
"Maybe." Dante allowed. He seemed supremely unconcerned. Maybe it was his way of coping...
The Hovercraft bay was very quiet at seven am in the middle of the Games. A man in surprisingly subdued attire was waiting for them. Next to him, an athletic woman in her mid-twenties waved, a friendly smile on her full lips.
"Good! Hurry, I want to show you this," the pilot said.
"Get in." Dante said, gently pushing the Capitol woman in. The latter shot him a confused look.
Something clicked in Mercury's brain. She shared a look with Aster who actually smiled.
"Nice, Dante. I'm impressed," he said.
The escort puffed up with pride. "Hurry, now!"
"Grandfather, what's this about?" the woman, who had to be the Lyra who Dante so often gushed about, said, apprehension obvious on her features.
"Just trust me, Treasure." Dante said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
The hovercraft took off, almost silent in the early morning light.
"So?" Mercury asked, drawing the syllable out.
"The spark has caught. Plutarch had been in contact for months with District 13."
The escort certainly expected surprise. He didn't expect fury.
Mercury was shaking with rage. "A large group of people had access to stealth technology so powerful the Capitol never found them in all these years and they're making themselves known only now?"
"Maybe the Capitol knew." Aster began cynically, resting a soothing hand on her arm. "District 13 had nuclear technology, therefore means of retaliation. But I'd have expected the Capitol to have found a way to wipe them out by now, poison water, a plague…."
"So whoever was monitoring them for the Capitol turned coat and Snow is using this Quzell to make the rebels, of District 13 included, reveal themselves?" Mercury guessed, forcing her temper to cool. She inwardly chastised herself for never researching District Thirteen.
This was bigger than what she had ever imagined. She could feel warmth blossoming in her chest. It was there, tantalizingly out of range, the taste of freedom.
"Where are we going?" Aster inquired, his arm around her waist.
"We jammed the signals, they will be following us soon, but they will not be close enough to know we will have already left the hovercraft when it will explode." The pilot said. His lack of make-up and flashy clothes now made sense.
"So we will be reported dead? Where will we hide? We can disguise, Dante, but you're… more noticeable." Mercury pointed out.
"Don't worry about us, Child," the Capitolite said, looking down fondly at the twenty-nine year old. "You will see when we arrive."
Lyra seemed to be slowly recovering from shock "Dante, what is this? And what about Mother?"
"You said you wanted to know the truth Lyra, now you will see the truth. I have been a coward but now I can try to do my part. Effie told me nothing, except that Thirteen was on the move and that the Peeta and Katniss, the Mockingjay, had to be protected at all costs. I hope your mother will be fine."
Mercury couldn't believe she had been that wrong about Plutarch.
"Katniss Everdeen. A symbol. It doesn't even matter what kind of person she is, they'll make her into what they want." Aster said with a hard smile. "And it might even work, who knows…."
He was pointedly ignoring Lyra, a sure sign that he strongly disapproved of her presence. Despite the liability, Mercury couldn't fault Dante for trying to save his favorite grandchild.
They jumped out of the hovercraft, shielded by the shadow of the hill they'd turned behind, into gelid water. Minutes later, the three hovercrafts trailing them shot the unmanned craft out of the air. They had sent a recorded distress signal to pretend they were still on board. Now, hopefully, they were officially dead.
"Where are we?" a gasping Lyra asked. Despite her confusion she had obeyed without question.
"Near Six, I contacted the woman you said, Dante, but first we walk." The Capitol pilot, Aelius, said with a rueful grin. He looked sixty, as Capitol looks went, broad shouldered and tanned with a bald head.
Mercury took a few moments to recognize the woman who greeted them in the evening light. She soon felt tears pooling in her eyes.
"You're Drake's sister, aren't you?"
"Doctor Fibula Liberty now," the chestnut haired woman said softly.
"Congratulation on your wedding." Mercury said with a small smile.
"Thank you, dear. Come, I'm happy to have you here."
"I need to warn my District somehow. We have prepared for this." Mercury said once they had reached Fibula's small house. She was grinning like a fool.
Free, they were free! It didn't matter there would be war, but here they would not have to watch their every word and action. Free at long last!
"Two days ago I told Finder you had eaten all the strawberries and that it had ruined the birthday cake I had wanted to bake for my friend Erinna's birthday when he asked if everything was fine, does that count?" Dante said with a small smug smile.
Mercury laughed, unable to believe it had all been so easy.
"Why strawberries?" Aelius said, puzzled.
"Because strawberries were handed out to the rebels under siege in Three during the first rebellion. Three has never seen a strawberry since, because of the symbol." Aster explained, his lips twitching.
"This Quell is an abomination. I have had enough." Dante said, a dark solemn cast to his features.
Aster rolled his eyes at the old man's declaration. Mercury elbowed her lover gently. This was neither the time nor place to argue whether victors dying in the Games made it worse than children dying.
"Wait, what?" Lyra whispered, looking more overwhelmed by the minute.
"How did you achieve this?" Aster asked.
Dante smiled thinly. "I am ninety-six years old, young man. I know how things work in my city."
"How dependent are you on Capitol medicine to keep you healthy?" Aster added bluntly.
Dante's smile grew annoyed. "I have a stock. As long as we don't go cross-country, I can live months as I am."
"That's pretty good already. I just can't believe this is real. What will happen to the tributes?" Mercury said, wringing her hands.
She fiercely hoped that Enobaria had been told about the rebellion, that the others had not taken for granted her support of the Capitol. She doubted Finnick or even Volts suspected how deep her hatred ran. She knew to be Enobaria's only true friend amongst the victors and now cursed herself for not having shared the conversation she'd had with Johanna.
"Plutarch has a plan, obviously. We need to focus on what we can do from here." Dante said.
"Volts knows Capitol electronics better than any man alive, he could infiltrate them. While we cannot jam the Capitol's communications from here, we can create underground comm channels to get word and build an organized resistance."
"The Web cannot resist a Peacekeeper's incursion. If they destroy the spires, we will be crippled." Aster pointed out.
"The barracks doors open automatically, remember, Love? The windows are unbreakable and even the emergency exits can be jammed electronically."
"Seriously?" Aelius said aghast.
"Capitolites have never been good physicists and the ones who claim some knowledge of physics are still too few. We have been lying for decades about what we produced." Aster said, unexpectedly pulling Mercury into a deep embrace.
Fibula snorted. "The more I hear, the more I wonder how the Capitol survived all these years."
"No matter how dry the grass, fire won't happen if there isn't a spark somewhere." Mercury said, a healthy flush to her face. "Now let's start working, how are things here?"
"The people in transport have already reacted. More hovercrafts than usual have been recalled for maintenance; the excuse we gave was that the Capitol would need everything for the end of the Games when the real trouble would begin."
Fibula's smile was rather diabolical. "The ports have been locked, within a few days the Capitol will figure it out, but they'll also realize they only have a skeleton crew of transports to reach us. It will give us time before reinforcements arrive; hopefully long enough to have the districts rebel openly and force the Capitol to concentrate their forces on other, closer, Districts."
Like, Three? The horror of impeding war was slowly sinking in. Mercury tightened her hold on her lover, a flinty look in her pale eyes. She hoped she would have the strength to contribute to what would probably be the messiest event in her lifetime.
They could be witnessing the end of the true Dark Days.
"The Capitol needs to be brought down, as long as there are enough survivors to reorganize themselves in a fairer government. We need to pay the price." Aster said. "We need to contact people quickly, while Snow is distracted by the Games."
"Lyme, Barnabas, Bahamut, Seif," Mercury muttered.
"Victors from Two, what about them?"
"Enobaria said that they hated the Capitol, Dante. If we secure Two, we've won half the rebellion. Get me into any factory, I can build a radio. Finder knows what frequency I'd use for a coded message and with the facilities back home we can contact them on a secure channel."
"We need Nine, Ten and Eleven's railways blown up. If the supply routes are destroyed, the peacekeepers' mobility will be reduced." Aster said, his dark eyes lit with a rare passion.
Eleven was probably already taking care of it.
"Screens in all the markets in those Districts show the fluctuating prices of various food-wares, we can infiltrate those to send a global message. They lack the security of the Capitol's telecom system."
Fibula was staring at Aster in wide-eyed awe. "What were they thinking when they let a District handle electronics if you can do all this easily?"
"Because, unlike the advanced medicine they do produce in the Capitol, it takes too many hardworking educated people to keep the system going. The Capitol would have to put a quarter of its adult population to work, which is inconceivable, and it would require factories they have no space for." Aster explained with a small superior smile. "And I expect they do not truly know what we can do. We do not boast."
Mercury echoed that smile with a triumphant one. "Just because we are a quiet population doesn't mean we are submissive, we have bided our time. Now the way is open, you will see what we truly think of the Capitol."
"Okay, do you have a minute now?" Lyra said, her anger obvious.
Mercury smiled at the disgruntled woman, impressed she had not thrown a fit earlier. "Come, I'll tell you a story."
The word slowly spread. Plutarch had already some contacts in the Districts who immediately picked up the signal and expanded their small contact pool tenfold.
The little group decided to focus on warning the Career districts, as it was obvious now that in Seven, Eight and Eleven, the rebellion had already taken root and that channels had been opened to rouse the Districts nearby.
Distress supplanted their euphoria as Wiress' death was broadcasted. Mercury bit her lip to contain the churning pain twisting her insides. She tore her eyes away from the screen; swallowing back her tears. They had to concentrate, tempers were already too high. Those attitudes wouldn't serve the rebellion. The look in Aster's and Dante's eyes was dangerously close to bloodlust. Mercury threatened to turn off the television if they didn't help with the radios.
Once again it was all about surviving, the difference was that winning would this time truly make the world a better place.
Lyra had surprised them all by embracing the rebels' cause with a passion approaching fanaticism after she had heard Mercury's tale on the true nature of Panem. Aster still refused to acknowledge her presence, finding her radical change of opinions proof of a deficient mind. While it exasperated Dante, the two's attitude amused Mercury to no end and provided some much needed distraction.
A call from Lyme, requesting a refund and a new delivery of a vintage motorbike showed the woman had received and understood the message they had sent. There had never been any motorbike.
The group's cheer was short lived. Lyme's message came minutes before all hell broke loose. Mercury didn't even have the time to figure out what Volts was attempting with the forcefield, for in the chaos that followed, the clock-like arena was somehow destroyed, Volts, Enobaria, Johanna, Finnick, Katniss and Peeta still alive in the mix.
"Was that Snow's or Plutarch's doing? Johanna removed Katniss's tracker but she could've been too late." Dante said, his eyes wide in shock. He was a different person with his short white hair, plain clothes and no golden eyelashes to compliment his natural dark brown eyes.
"It has to be Plutarch." Mercury said tightly, her eyes riveted on the dark screen, as if she could turn it back on just by wishing hard enough.
"I hope Plutarch knows what he's doing, there are mentors and the escorts in the Capitol. Snow will target them for sure!"
Aster snorted at Lyra's outraged exclamation. "Acceptable sacrifices," he said, bitterness lacing his words. "We are nothing in the grand scheme of things. The rebellion must prevail."
Mercury squeezed his hand, desperate for new information. Districts Twelve, Eleven, Ten, Nine, Eight and Six hadn't had enough victors to supply both two tributes and two mentors to the Capitol, but that still left twelve victors in the fortress city. She didn't want to believe Plutarch would just leave them at the Snow's mercy. He had to have planned an escape route.
"Phoenix has probably no clue…." Mercury whispered bitterly. "We need to warn the victors, all of them. It doesn't matter if Snow reads the message. They need to go undercover. They'll be primary targets."
Aster shook his head, anger darkening his stern features. "If Snow digs now he'll see all we've begun to do and send a bomb straight at us. We need two more days to secure the channels or we will have no support to offer to District Thirteen or whoever is behind this."
"Two days. There's no way around it," Mercury muttered, wringing her hands. "Let's hope it's enough."
It wasn't.
Feverish communications from Eleven poured in on all channels. Twelve was being bombed.
Mercury sagged back against her chair, her strength leaving her. The Capitol depended on the coal for energy, they couldn't bomb a whole District! It was irrational, it couldn't be happening.
It was.
The woman barely registered Lyra's furious cursing.
"Focus!" Aster snapped. "We are no help if we stay idle, moaning about the world's evils."
The Capitolite burst into tears in her grandfather's arms.
Lyme escaped. She wasn't alone but didn't divulge the names of her companions. Families of the victors had been targeted too. The peacekeepers were in chaos. There were the loyal ones, the rebels and a great majority, the idle, the ones who were waiting for a semblance of order to be re-established.
Similar news came from Garnet in One: the victors were being hunted. The former Career had no idea if others had escaped only that the majority of the peacekeepers were trying to desert. The train stations and hoverports were a mess, the people hiding in their own houses.
Garnet had stolen the camera of an open TV-channel, speaking fast, alerting anyone watching the national broadcasts, everyone. He'd had a knife in his hand, they didn't get him alive.
Mercury had never met him before, but she now mourned the brave white-haired victor.
The following weeks were the most exhausting of Mercury's life. They never left their hideout, dependent on Fibula for supplies, alone with the radios and the lifeline of steady information Finder fed them. His reports about the uprising in Three were encouraging but the victors had little to rejoice about. Where their houses had once stood only ashes remained; Wiress' family had been murdered during the night and Dubhe Polaris killed when she had gone to inquire what the unknown peacekeepers were doing in her son's house.
"Foolish." Aster had muttered, ashen. Mercury stifled a sob.
He did not mention his mother's death again. There was no time to grieve.
Finder finally managed to contact Volts, omitting that Aster and Mercury were still alive.
District Thirteen was hardly ecstatic when Finder hijacked their computing system but they were happier when a slowly recovering Volts told them that it would be much easier for him to take control of the Capitol's communications if he had a channel open with Three and that few people had Finder's talent with computers anyway.
Three's radars warned Six of incoming Hovercrafts, few passed through the net of avian defenses they had woven. Few but still too many. Poor Peeta, still captive in the Capitol, deserved a statue for warning them. The rebel's hovercrafts had been lured away while the Capitol's remaining fleet had headed towards Thirteen, hoping to crush the morale. The Capitol failed.
Nevertheless the rebel avian defense was one of their successes: the rebellion was a mess, with very little central organization and District 13 still needing to organize itself too. They struggled to coordinate assaults, to optimize resources and to make the enthusiastic rebels understand that logistics were not just a pain that distracted them from the more physical acts of rebellion but something that would help the cause. It was fanaticism, people oppressed for too long who went wild now that they could do so, and through sheer numbers, even the better organized and equipped Capitol army of peacekeepers and conscripts were overwhelmed. But the losses were staggering.
"Dante and Lyra cannot continue like this." Mercury said, her fingers drawing shapes over Aster's bare torso. Even in the dead of night the streets were not silent anymore.
"Capitolites languish without a crowd to flatter their vanity."
Mercury sighed at his condemning tone. "They are social people, even back home many people would find being locked here hard. We need to go back to Three."
"We can't risk being seen. They'll kill us, thinking us Capitol spies. Lyra will wilt at the first sign of horror. She is too enthusiastic about the rebellion, like a child given an great cause. Ask her to describe what she thinks is happening out there. You may be surprised."
Mercury sighed again, letting him cradle her protectively against his body.
Snow had been cunning, the families of the people who conscripted were promised money and shelter in the Capitol. Many cynical district dwellers therefore joined the ranks of the loyal peacekeepers, especially at first when the Capitol's broadcasts announced an impeding victory. Genuine videos of the living and newly accommodated families were shown to prove the Capitol's goodwill. Keeping the districts updated on what was truly happening was difficult. The information had first to be sent to Three by the rebels on the battlefields.
Finally, after a month of frantic guerrilla and all-around chaos, District Thirteen managed to go live. Katniss Everdeen and rebel propaganda was on every screen. No matter what the histories would later say, it was that day that the rebellion was won. From inside their safe house Mercury, Aster, Fibula and an exhausted Dante drank to Volts' superb mastery of electronics and the end of the rebellion. And when Finder informed them that Johanna, Peeta and Annie had been rescued from the Capitol, Mercury suddenly felt invincible. A radiant and confident smile never left her face, lighting the groups' monotone days. The grin only faded in the dead of night, when, in the privacy of her covers, Mercury prayed for news of Enobaria, who hadn't been seen since the arena had exploded.
Only Lyra seemed immune to the euphoria that had gripped the rebel world. Days later, the young woman was still sullen and subdued. Aster had been right, Lyra had been trapped by dreams of glory. Despite the sometimes crude radio reports, nothing had prepared the girl for the sheer barbarism of the battlefields.
A muffled crashing sound reached Mercury's ears. Heavy steps were nearing the basement where they hid.
It was too early for Fibula.
The victor's hands began to move of their own accord as terror surged through her veins. Finder had to be warned that they had been compromised. She knew the emergency codes by heart.
Mercury snapped towards the others as Dante's shout pierced through her daze.
Aster had Lyra by the neck. "Why aren't you surprised?" He hissed, fury etched in his stern features.
Mercury tore at the last of the radio connectors. "We leave now!" She breathed, not understanding why they were still there.
Armed men burst in, both from the door and the concealed exit. Their uniforms were new and not from Six.
Aster's intense stare tore Mercury out of her stupor. Her blue eyes filled with tears as the depth of the betrayal sunk in.
Why Lyra? Why!
"Don't move! You are to come back to the Capitol."
"They said they want to find a peaceful way to end this. People have been listening to you, you can stop the senseless murder, make it stop!" Lyra croaked, struggling against Aster's iron grip.
No. The naive girl couldn't possibly believe that. This is a nightmare, wake up!
A scream as shrill as it was brief cut the air followed by the grim sound of bones snapping. His traits lit by all-consuming madness, Aster cast away Lyra's limp form with the finality of an avenging angel.
Mercury's mouth parted slightly when red pools of blood appeared on her lover's back. Her disbelieving eyes met a terrified-looking young peacekeeper's. She couldn't make sense of what she was seeing.
Dante's primitive cry of anguish cut the air as he fell next to his grandchild. His fist collided with the jaw of the uniformed man who stepped in his way.
Another gunshot ripped the air.
"It's the victors who mattered," Dante's murderer said coolly, "take her alive."
Mercury stood unmoving as shackles were roughly fastened to her wrists, unable to tear her shocked eyes from her lover's lifeless form.
Aster. My Aster.
She wanted to die.
*Disconsolate wailing*
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