Revan Allerix, 17.
Victor of the 207th Hunger Games.
February 19th, 210 ADD.
Revan yanked the suffocating helmet off his head, discarding it haphazardly on the ground nearby. He slowly, achingly peeled off each layer of sleek black armour, throwing it on the ground much like the helmet as he rooted around in the piles of clothing surrounding him on the floor. Finally, Revan found some relatively clean clothes in the mess of the room. Changing quickly, he kicked the armour out of the way of the door, then grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the cluttered desk nearby and stumbled groggily back out into the hallway.
District 2 was not a place Revan enjoyed.
But at least he wasn't in the public proper; no, he was stuck in this fortress, deep within the Tombs, the nickname for the base to which he was assigned, buried deep beneath the rocky mountain peaks of District 2. It was suffocating, the stone walls pressing in around him. He'd never been particularly claustrophobic, in fact when Revan was younger he was always the smallest, the one chosen to cram himself into strange small spaces when needed. But that was different from having tonnes upon tonnes of rock surrounding him, threatening to collapse in at any moment. In reality, he knew he was safe; in fact, he was probably safer here than anywhere else in the country. But despite this, he still wanted out, even if just for a moment. Just to take a breath of fresh air, that was enough for him.
Revan turned the corner, heading down another identical hallway. It was so boring, oh so boring, plain and flat everything was the same. At least the reason he was here was far more interesting. This virus which had taken the District in its clutches made the demand for Peacekeepers even higher. And with the subsequent uprising at the hand of the people, they needed something - or someone - special to help bring the top leaders of the rebel group, called the Cohort, down. So, here Revan was, in the rocky peaks of District 2, a place that hated him and all he stood for. But he wouldn't be here much longer; he'd already gotten his mission over with.
This daydreaming haze of thoughts left him as he arrived before a large metal door at the end of the hallway. It was different from the doors which led into the dorms, being thick and metallic instead of flimsy and wooden. Revan fumbled with the keycard hung around his neck. He scanned it beneath the card reader, and the door cracked, open a breeze of cold fresh air sweeping over him. Pushing the door open further, he stepped into the outdoors for the first time in days. His boots crunched in the hard-packed dirt path as he shaded his eyes from the bright light which shone through the clusters of leafless trees surrounding him. It was peaceful, better than the turbulence of the past few days. Coming to a stop beneath one of the trees, Revan paused for a moment, leaning his aching back up against the tree as he pulled the cigarettes from his pocket, lighting one soon after. It had been a long day, but one which he'd remember for many years to come.
The high rooftop looked out over the city before Revan. It was empty, deserted really, lonely and grey. Although he knew otherwise, there was life within this city, it was just yet to make itself apparent.
Somewhere within the walls of this fortress of a city was his target, someone who went by the name of Reign Legatus. He didn't know who this someone was exactly; all Revan knew was that he was the leader of the Cohort, the cause of the uprising and rebellion which had occurred here in District 2 due to the virus which had swept through the District. Just a few months prior, the Peacekeepers had reclaimed the Tombs back from the clutches of these rebels, pushing them back into the still locked-down city. They'd captured many of the Cohorts leaders in the retaking of the Tombs, but yet the one they'd been gunning for had escaped them.
So they'd brought Revan here, as a sort of trial run. He'd never actually been brought on a mission before; yes, but this was his purpose what he was trained for. Sure, he'd never been on an actual mission, he'd been taken on mock runs yes but Revan had never been left to his own devices. But here he was, atop a gleaming building gun by his side. Revan certainly was not thrilled about this - how could he of all people be thrilled about being a Peacekeeper - but he still felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through him.
Oh, how thrilled did he feel, with a gun in his hand. How powerful. It was sickening what a weapon in the hands of a person like him could do.
And it was time to put that power to good use, at last. A sudden humming noise rang through his earpiece, startling him out of his thoughts. "What is it?" Revan muttered to himself, or maybe to the wind, or to the commander he knew was on the other end of the line.
"The target has entered the building, and he doesn't appear to be armed. You know what to do," the familiar voice of Anton, his commander, responded.
"I'd tell you to wish me luck but we both know I don't need it," Revan responded, a grin spreading across his face. Before he could finish his sentence, the humming noise which signified the open line cut off. Revan sighed; nobody ever appreciated his comedic genius around here, as the Peacekeepers ran a tight and very serious ship. But to put it simply, he didn't care enough to abide by those serious standards, at least not fully. He'd never been good at following rules, and that certainly would not change any time soon.
Standing up from his hunched position, Revan spun on his heel walking back to the door behind him. As he walked, he checked himself over, making sure all of his assorted weapons were still attached to his armour. Being a special forces Peacekeeper certainly had its perks, one of those being superior armour, and weapons. Rather than having to deal with the heavy, clunky and most of all highly noticeable white armour of the standard Peacekeepers, Revan had a lighter, sleeker black outfit. Its mobility was certainly better than the cumbersome white armour and he intended to test its full functions out today. He pushed the door open, securing his helmet on his head as he did so.
Revan's footsteps echoed ever so slightly as he ascended the stairs quickly, soon passing through another door and finding himself on a wide-open floor. The building seemed to be some sort of office building, with rows upon rows of empty desks and cubicles. It was eerie, the maze-like office seemingly having been abandoned, not a person in sight. Revan was alone. Or well he was alone, as the elevator across the floor let out a ding, reverberating in the high ceiling of the room. Revan moved quickly, ducking behind one of the flimsy cubicle walls, listening to the heavy footsteps of the approaching man. Gripping his dart gun firmly between his hands, he waited for the figure to grow nearer. As the figure passed by him, heading towards the door which Revan had exited just minutes prior, he raised the gun in his hands, aiming the tranquillizer for the man's back.
Revan pulled the trigger, expecting the firing of the dart, to take his target down and out easily. But there was no firing, no dart, just cold silence until Revan let out a string of expletives. The gun had jammed - of course it had to do this right then and there of all times and places. The man spun around as Revan attached the gun to his belt again, drawing one of the knives attached to his person.
"What the fuck are you-" the man began, but Revan cut him off, throwing the knife. The man ducked, drawing some sort of short sword from beneath his cloak. Revan drew two more knives as the man closed the distance between them quickly. Revan didn't exactly understand why he didn't at least try and run - he might've had a chance at escaping had he run - but Revan was certainly not averse to a fight. Fighting was what he was trained for after all, and he was damn good at it. There was a reason he was here and nobody else was.
The man stopped just in front of Revan, taking a deft swing at the Peacekeeper. Revan wasn't sure what he was expecting; District 2 was once filled with trained Careers, and even if this man hadn't trained as a teenager, there was likely somebody in his Cohort who could've taught him how to fight. Whatever the case was, the level of skill and intensity the man fought with caught Revan off guard as he took another swipe at the Victor. This one glanced off one of the plates of armour covering his ribcage, grating horribly against the plating.
"Hey! This is new, don't fuck up my brand new armour!" Revan grumbled as he responded with his own counterattacks, ducking under the taller man's strikes, jabbing one of the knives into his opponent's thigh. The man gasped loudly and doubled over, dropping his sword as his hands grasped for the hilt of the knife. Revan took the opportunity to drive his elbow up into the man's face, a satisfying crunch accompanying the impact. The taller man's hands went to his face, but before they could reach his injured nose, Revan pulled a pair of magnetic handcuffs from his belt, slapping them on his opponent's wrists. Revan kicked the discarded sword away, grinning smugly at his handiwork. "Not bad eh? You put up quite the fight-" Revan said, turning away with a satisfied grin. Before he could finish his sentence, something cold and metallic pulled across his neck from behind. Revan let out a choked gasp, fingers clawing desperately at the cool links tightening around his neck, mind racing too quickly to figure out where exactly the other man managed to get a weapon from.
He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe- not a wisp of air could get to his lungs. What could he do? He didn't have any weapons within reaching distance, other than himself.
Himself.
His body was a weapon he could use.
The man was pulling so hard that Revan's feet were lifted off the ground and he fully intended to use this to his advantage. With his last bits of energy, Revan reeled back his foot, kicking out. The heel of his boot connected with the hilt of the knife which was still stuck in the man's leg. He let Revan go, and both toppled to the ground hard. Revan coughed, air reentering his lungs rapidly as he rubbed at his throat and the grey from the edges of his vision faded. He dragged himself to his feet, drawing the tranquillizer gun again. He lined up the shot, pulling the trigger, he stopped squirming soon after going limp. Revan continued coughing and rubbing at his tender neck as he turned on his earpiece.
"You take him down?" Anton's tinny voice came through his ear alongside the humming noise.
"Yes sir," Revan choked out hoarsely, "why didn't you send anybody in to help?"
"Ah, just a little test to see how you'd perform on your own," Anton replied, audibly chuckling. Revan could've gotten hurt or worse; what was his life, a joke? He knew he meant nothing to the Capitol, but he thought they might put at least a little effort into keeping him alive after all the time they'd put into training him.
"Wow, thanks you obviously have so much faith in me," Revan snapped back, his voice's strength beginning to return somewhat, although it was still weak. He could hear Anton laughing on the other end of the line as the doors behind him burst open, a wave of Peacekeepers filing into the room. They quickly surrounded him in a tidal wave of gleaming white as they collected the target. As his fellow soldiers began taking the man away, Revan got a good look at his face. In reality, his opponent was a teenager, by the looks of him not much older than he was. And so Revan watched, a black swan amongst the sea of white, ever the odd one out.
This was not Revan's first fight, and it would not be his last. And Revan did not know it, but this would not be the last time he crossed paths with Reign Legatus.
