PROLOGUE
The President's Office
Sunday, April 12th, 1663 P.A.
President Mettius Quain, 36
President of Panem
Most loyalties can be solidified with enough pressure. In the face of persistence, most people will yield to the dominating force, even if it against their better judgment. But there are some loyalties that are thwarted with the slightest breeze. And when one leaf drifts away from the tree, what's stopping the others?
I glance over the report in my hand.
"Can you summarize this for me, Minerva?" I turn to the woman in question. "Who would you consider the most dangerous threats?"
"Yes, sir." Although we've known each other since we were children, she refuses to speak to me with anything but formalities. It should be weird, but it's growing on me. "The victors of Seven and Eleven have spiked onto our radar, and there is still the problem in Two that needs to be handled. CapDocs has been breached again this year; the suspect has been identified and arrested, but it is unknown what she found."
"What district?"
"Three."
I hum. CapDocs is most critical database in Panem, containing records of all the citizens, updates of the districts' productivity levels, item pools of potential twists for the Hunger Games, and countless hours of surveillance footage. Despite its high (alleged) security, it's been breached twice during my five-year reign.
"Do you have any ideas on how we should eliminate these threats?" I ask.
"Execution is always an option, sir."
"Without causing the districts to revolt?"
"Then, none, sir." She shakes her head. "Unless you are prepared to eliminate the threats slowly over the course of a decade, but that will not prevent them from becoming too… potent. Nor will it stop new threats from arising."
I pinch the bridge of my nose. "Do they have anything in common?"
"Not as a collective unit, excluding the known link between the problems in Two and Seven." Minerva pulls a manila folder out of her leather satchel. "But I brought each of their files for review, sir."
"Let me see 'em."
She places the file on my rosewood desk. (Ever since her father died of a bacterial infection, she refuses to touch anyone's hand.)
I open the folder, and my eyes linger on the first report in the stack. "The girl from Three—the one who hacked into CapDocs—is only seventeen?"
"Yes, sir."
"Around the same age as the boy hacker from last year?"
"Roughly."
I scratch my stubbled cheek. "And they have no connections whatsoever? They aren't affiliated with a larger group?"
"Not that we could find, sir."
I hum. "But they're both eligible for the Games." I glance at the sealed envelope containing this year's twist. "What if we changed the twist so that only convicted criminals could be selected? We might be able to kill two birds with one stone."
"I would advise against it, sir." She pauses, but I gesture for her to continue. "If we only select criminals, then the victor would be a criminal. Would you want the Capitol and the districts to glorify a known lawbreaker?"
"I can see why that would be a bad idea." I sigh and massage my forehead with my fingers. "What about their families?"
"The girl seems to be an orphan. There are no records of her anywhere."
"None?" I look up at Minerva. "There weren't any hits with her surname?"
"The most we could find is that she may be a descendant of Casmir Ismene, a tribute of the 1st Hunger Games. But there were no records of her birth nor any documentation regarding her existence as a whole."
"Could she have deleted them?"
"It's possible but unlikely, sir. Our current analysis suggests that she was trying to access sealed government documents, including those that pertain to your family's history."
"Is that so?"
I glance at the sole picture on my desk—a remnant of my father's reign—which I kept more for appearance than sentiment. My father sits on a leather chair with one hand on the handle of his signature cane. With each year of his reign, his graying hair showed less and less semblance of its former charcoal color. Combined with his hunched posture and metal-framed glasses, he looked closer to the brink of death than most 60-year-old men. Resting on his lap is a picture of my mother, who sacrificed herself for the nation during the Third Rebellion. I was separated from her long before her martyrdom, so my memories of her have nearly faded. But my father still cherished her daily until he, too, met his grave.
My brother and I stand on either side of my father. Despite our color-coordinated suits, we were like morning and evening. My brother was a carbon copy of my mother: platinum blonde hair, thin eyebrows, angular cheekbones, a clean-shaven face, and a slim physique. It's clear that my father's genes were the dominant ones in my DNA, from the dark brown hair to the ever-present stubble to the poor eyesight. Even my skin is a few shades darker than my brother's. Then again, it was hard to find someone paler than him. (If he didn't wear sunscreen on a cloudy day, he would often come home red and burned.) Our only shared feature was our brown eyes.
I look away from the picture. "What about the boy? What's his family situation like?"
"His biological father disappeared before he was born."
"Disappeared as in we don't know where he went? Or disappeared as in… disappeared?"
"The latter, sir."
I hum. "And his mother?"
"She passed away three years ago."
"Any siblings?"
"His half-brother was Garrison Braque, a tribute of the 14th Hunger Games."
"Both of the hackers have relations to the Games?" I tap my fingers against the edge of my desk. "Could we incorporate that into the twist? Limit the eligibility pool to only children with connections to former tributes?"
"That is possible, sir." Minerva nods. "But to hold any legitimacy, we would need to specify what is encompassed when we refer to 'connections.'"
"What if we limit it to only children with familial ties to former tributes?" A new thought pulls my attention toward the folder. "Could that also handle our problems in Two and Seven?" I flip through the pages of reports until I find the desired one. "Their link is seventeen. She'd be eligible for these Games."
"That is a feasible solution, sir." Minerva bites her lip. "But are you certain you want to use their daughter to attack them? It would turn them even more against you. We might not be able to contain them before they cause too much damage."
I ignore her and continue flipping through the pages. "And the victors from Eleven—one of their daughters would be eligible, too." I glance up at Minerva. "How would this twist affect the eligibility pool?"
"It would become too exclusive, sir." She tilts her head from side to side. It's her 'tell' whenever she's processing something. "I'd estimate the average eligibility pool would have between thirty to fifty children for each gender, but it would vary by district."
"We could ignore the age requirement for this year," I think aloud. "That would surely increase the numbers."
"It would double or triple it, sir." Minerva nods. "But I'd advise against it. You'd be combining two twists into one. What if another threat arises, an older citizen without any eligible family members for the Games? Our only resort would be execution."
"Good point." I rub my chin. "What if we include friends as well?'
"That would be a rather subjective qualification. We would need some objective means to differentiate actual friends from regular acquaintances."
I hum. "Could we use the tributes' wills?"
"To differential friends from acquaintances?" She tilts her head from side to side. "That should theoretically work. But it would would only increase the eligibility pool by ten to twenty children, as it would only be applicable for the most recent years."
"If we include family, friends, and descendants of these friends, how many children would you expect to be eligible?"
"At least one-hundred, sir."
"That sounds like more than enough." I smile. "Let's go ahead with this twist."
End of Prologue.
Author Note: Thank you for reading the prologue of this revived fan fiction! If you follow my account, my might realize that this is the second time that I've recreated this story. Between dealing with the pandemic and completing my degree, I became incredibly busy and was unable to focus on this story. (Instead, I spent the last year writing a new work.) However, because I spent so much time creating each character, I am back to finish this story. Most of the tributes will remain the same, but a lot of the secondary characters (the victors, the escorts, etc.) have been better developed.
The story will be structured in three sections. Part I will introduce each character through the Reapings, the goodbyes in the Justice Building, and the train rides to the Capitol. (I have completed two-thirds of this section, so I expect it to be fully completed next month.) Part II will cover the tributes' preparation for the Hunger Games, including each day of training, the private sessions, and the interviews. Finally, Part III will detail the actual Hunger Games.
Once I reach the arena, I will reveal the twist of the sequel. The sequel will be an SYOT, and submissions will open when about half the tributes remain. In general, submissions will not be first-come, first-serve. However, users who follow, favorite, or comment on this story will be guaranteed at least one spot (of their choosing) in the Games. Most chapters will also have some questions, and answering those will help me determine the order of priority, in case two preferred users want the same spot.
Next Chapter: A Sacrifice (D1 Reaping)
