Alester Pierce, 18, District 1
Victor of the 92nd Hunger Games

The sequence of events following the explosion had been a blur to Alester. He wasn't quite sure where the blacksuits had taken him and Genevieve to, but he knew that they were underground, seemingly in some sort of operations center. There were several other victors and government officials who survived the blast on the outside edge down there with them, each with their own room, but his parents and grandfather were not included in that list.

At eighteen, Alester had become an orphan.

Twenty hours passed, every one of which he'd spent awake. The bedroom they gave him was small but comfortable. It was too comfortable, in fact. The bed was too soft and the lights too warm. The wall opposite of his bed had a screen designed to look like a window, but Alester had shut it off. It would have been too easy to relax and fall asleep as though nothing had happened, but there was no changing the fact that his life was altered now. Different. He should have gone to sleep a long time ago, but every time he looked toward the bed, all he could think of were the flames that engulfed the Presidential Palace the night before. It was a fool's errand, trying to run toward the explosion, and one that was thwarted by Genevieve, but he should have been there with them. Everything he'd ever achieved in his life he had done to make them proud and now that they were gone, he felt aimless.

The soft chime of the doorbell interrupted Alester's thoughts. "Come in." He called out, the door sliding open to reveal Genevieve a second afterward. She had changed from the dress she wore the night prior into a plain white T-shirt and a pair of dark blue jeans, and she had cleaned the makeup off of her face. "I see they're letting you walk around."

"Not exactly," she gently retorted as she walked forward into the room. "They only let me come over here because we're both from One." As Genevieve sat on the bed only a few feet from him, the concern in her face became evident and after a few quiet moments, she spoke again, "They've finally started to begin looking through the rubble for survivors."

For a moment, there existed a glimmer of hope in him that one of them survived, though it quickly dissipated when she said, "They haven't found your parents yet. I'm sorry." She continued a second later, her voice beginning to falter, "They found Charles... He's in pretty bad shape."

"Have they found any of the Presidium?" Alester asked.

Once more, Genevieve shook her head. "Not that I know of, but from what I could tell, they were all near the center of the blast. I doubt they survived."

"So then there's no Presidium..." He mused aloud with a sigh. This is much worse than Snow anticipated. Worse than I had anticipated. "No wonder they brought us here. The nation's about to start tearing itself apart."

Gen was silent at first, her eyes locked on the marble floor beneath her. A moment passed, and then another until finally, she looked over at him. "At the risk of being blunt... How are you doing? I mean, with everything that's happened?"

Alester gave a snort. "I don't know." It was the truth. What was he to think about what had just happened? In one moment, his life had changed from being the latest in a family of victors to being the last. "Everything's happened so fast I feel like I'm trapped in a dream, like this isn't really happening and I'll wake up safe and sound on the train back to One... I can't sleep. I haven't eaten anything. It doesn't feel real, but I know that it is."

She scooted a little closer to him, gently rubbing her hand on his shoulder. "I know how it feels. When I lost my parents, I felt like I lost everything. But I didn't. There are pieces of you that nothing can take away; you just have to put them back together." She was silent for a moment, but continued, "No matter what, I'm going to be here for you, Alester. We'll get through this together, okay?"

When he nodded, Gen gave a slight smile. "First thing's first, you need to eat." Before he could protest, she brought a finger to his mouth and stood up from the bed, walking over to a control panel near the door. Navigating her way through the menus, she had finally managed to put in the order, returning to the bed afterward. "They don't have a whole lot of options down here. I hope you like venison stew."

As the dish was mentioned, Alester realized that Genevieve was right. He hadn't had anything to eat since the lunch on the train to the Capitol, he just hadn't noticed his hunger until now. "Do you know what this place is, anyway?"

"Not really, no," she responded. "But I heard one of the blacksuits refer to it as 'SecOp'."

"SecOp," he repeated in a murmur. "A safe zone." If such a thing even existed anymore. If the Presidential Palace was unsafe, what was to say this SecOp area isn't either? A period of silence followed his words, during which Gen walked over to the fake window, fiddling with the screen until the image became the familiar snowcapped mountains that surrounded District One. Tiny snowflakes gently fell from the sky and the setting sun casting a warm glow across the exposed mountainsides. The sound of the wind was so real he could almost feel it brushing across his cheek now. It was home.

They both remained there looking at the image until the door opened, a plain white-suited peacekeeper pushing a trolley containing a pot of venison stew, rolls, butter, a pitcher of water, and a single-layer lemon cake into the room. The meal lacked lots of the grandiosity common with the meals he ate in the Capitol, though he wasn't exactly concerned about that right now; He just wanted something to eat. The peacekeeper turned and left the room a moment later, leaving the trolley which Gen brought over to the table on the far end of the room.

The food didn't last very long. Apparently, Gen was just as hungry as he was, though she was a little more refined in how she ate than Alester was. She spoke up first, "Now, you need to get some sleep." There was no protest from Alester this time around, and he tiredly found his spot on the bed. He couldn't stay awake forever, and with his hunger dealt with, he had realized just how utterly exhausted he was.

The door chimed and opened, a blacksuit walking in. "Forgive the intrusion, Mister Pierce. President Copperhill requests your presence."

"President Copperhill?" Well, that was one way of keeping one awake. "As in Minerva Copperhill, the Deputy Minister of Justice?"

The peacekeeper nodded. "She is currently serving in the capacity of Acting President." Alester didn't glance over at Gen, but he knew she was just as concerned as he was. The party at the Presidential Palace at the end of every victory tour drew all of the Capitol's elite. Whole presidiums attended these parties. Hell, if you weren't among the list of invitees, it meant you were unimportant and Alester didn't remember seeing Minerva around the outside edge of the crowd, the only place she could've conceivably survived the blast without injury. Regardless of his misgivings though, he had little choice in his response to the Acting President's request.

Rising from the bed and back onto his feet, Alester followed the peacekeeper into the hall, sharing a final look with Genevieve before the door slid shut. The corridor he found himself in was narrow, only able to fit two people side-by-side at most, and the blacksuits posted every ten yards didn't help with the claustrophobia he felt. The floors, walls, and ceiling were all made of a dark, grey alloy, with blue fluorescent lights running down the center of the ceiling dimly illuminating the hall. The path the peacekeeper took him on winded around too, turning from one hallway into another and then into another until they finally entered into a wider hall, at the end of which he could see a single door protected by two more blacksuits.

Just as he predicted, that's where he was led to. The sentries saluted as they approached, one of them pivoting to swipe their card through the door lock. The room inside was made of the same material as the hallways were and was filled with various screens and consoles. In the center of the room, there was a single metallic desk, behind which the Acting President of Panem sat. She was a spindly woman at the young age of thirty-two, with short curly hair dyed lime green and skin shaded olive. Her irises were colored a similar shade of green as her hair, a result of cosmetic surgery. The peacekeeper stood at attention, took off his helmet, and saluted before speaking, "Alester Pierce, Madam President."

Once he had left, President Copperhill finally acknowledged Alester's presence. "Mister Pierce. Please, come and sit." Once he did so, she continued with a deep breath, "I wanted to personally be the one to tell you. We've identified the bodies of your parents and grandfather among the deceased." A silence followed, though Alester couldn't say it was a profound moment. He hadn't really expected them to survive, as much as he hoped that they clung to life. They were simply too close to the blast. Copperhill cleared her throat. "You have my sincerest condolences. Their remains will be transported to One and you have my assurances that they will be given the state funerals they deserve."

"Thank you," he replied, his voice subdued. Another few moments passed, the awkwardness now becoming apparent to both parties. Eventually, Alester asked, "Is that all, Madam President?"

She thinly smiled, lacing her fingers together. "No," the sigh came, "I'm afraid it isn't."

Alester released a sigh to match Copperhill's, a trace of bitterness present in his voice. "It never is, is it?"

President Copperhill's smile faded into a neutral, more stolid expression as she began. "I understand that President Snow talked to you after your victory?"

"He did." There was no flinching and no hesitation on his part.

Copperhill continued to press forward, "What did he talk to you about?"

Alester's gaze hardened slightly. "He congratulated me on my victory."

"And?"

"And that was it."

"You're certain?" She didn't seem entirely convinced, but she let the matter go when Alester nodded, refusing to betray his words. That didn't stop her from sighing again, however. "If you happen to remember anything out of the ordinary from that meeting, Mister Pierce, it would be most helpful to me. I've got a Capitol that is quite literally on fire, and I need to find the answers to put it out."

"I told you everything I know," he reaffirmed, his eyes still watching her like a hawk to its prey. "Though I do have a question for you myself."

"Ask your question."

"Where were you were during the blast?"

"Down here in the Secure Operations Center," she answered plainly. "I was selected as the designated survivor."

"Since when did the Presidium start designating survivors?"

"Since President Snow passed away." Copperhill paused, tapping her fingers on the metal of her desk for a moment. "With a new administration, Calussa thought it would be a good idea for a Minister to sit the party away down here in case something were to transpire. Of course, none of the ministers wanted to miss it, so the pool of survivors came down to their deputies."

There was another pause before Alester spoke again. "Why were you selected though?"

"There is no 'why'. The process is randomized by the computer systems." Her eyes became just as firm, if not more so than Alester's. "If it's your belief that I somehow orchestrated this, Mister Pierce, you're wrong. I understand that you are currently mourning your losses, which is why I have been patient with you, but make no mistake, there was no conceivable way for me to have orchestrated an attack of this size and nature and even if there was, why would I? There are quieter ways of attaining power and certainly safer ways of doing them considering the fact that we're now looking at a potential uprising in the Districts." She paused, watching his expression. "Yes, do you understand now, Mister Pierce? The entire nation is at a Red-Three alert right now."

"Red-Three?" He asked, a sense of worry coming to his tone. Out of all three red alert codes used to deal with insurrection, Red-Three was the least severe, but that wasn't to say it was called lightly. It was only called when there was active opposition against the government and hadn't been called in any of the Districts since the Dark Days.

"It's a pre-emptive measure, but one that's necessary since the entire nation also just saw the Presidential Palace blow up live on television." Her tone continued to grow more biting, exhaustion starting to become apparent. He doubted that she'd gotten any more sleep than he had.

"What about the delay? There has to be a delay, right?"

"Our broadcasting systems were compromised for a period of ten seconds before the explosion and thirty-three after."

"Great", Alester sighed. "Well, you've painted the picture quite well."

"It's not a picture I'd care to paint again." It was Copperhill who matched his sigh this time. "And yet it's a picture I'm going to have to paint over and over again. I won't let Panem enter a second period of darkness, not after the stability it's known for the past ninety-three years, but it won't be easy... Naturally, I will allow you the proper time to grieve your losses, but when you return to the Capitol this summer, I'm going to need your help. I'll need the help of all the victors. You're the faces of the Districts, and you are the keys to maintaining order."

"I'm not quite sure what I can do to keep any place that isn't One in line," he began, "And frankly, One doesn't need to be kept in line. You know as well as I do the vast majority of One's citizens are supportive of the Capitol.

She nodded. "That's true, which is exactly why you must be cautious. One just lost two of its victors and all of their representatives in the National Assembly, plus another victor in critical condition. People are going to be thirsty for blood, and they'll go drawing it wherever they can."

"I'm thirsty for blood," Alester said tartly. "I want whoever did this to suffer for what they've taken from me."

"As do I, but we have to do it the right way, the orderly way. If we allow our instincts to take over, we will lose, Mister Pierce." The President sighed again as her attention was drawn to one of the monitors on her desk. She inputted a handful of commands into the computer and returned her attention to Alester.

"When will I return to One?" He finally asked, his tone growing quieter and tired once more.

"I've ordered a total audit on security across the nation. Once the Ministry of Transportation checks out, you'll be returned home as soon as possible."

Alester nodded. That was the question he really wanted to know the answer to and now he had it. "Is there anything else?"

Copperhill shook her head. "You may return to your room." As he rose from his seat and went to leave, she interrupted him a final time. "In Omnia Paratus, Mister Pierce. That saying does not extend just to the President, but to us all. We must be ready for anything that comes next."

If the attack last night proved anything, it's that the Capitol wasn't as ready as it thought it was. Copperhill would just have to be content with silence as his answer.

A/N: Hello hello! Just a couple of quick things!

This probably won't be the last prologue, but if everything goes according to plan, Prologue IV will be released at the same time the first reaping chapter is. It will probably be a couple of weeks before I update again, but rest assured, more is coming!

On another note, I've extended deadlines for this wave of tribute submissions to 12 AM CST, December 9th. This is NOT the last deadline, so there's still time to submit after this! But there will probably be a lot less open spots by the time the next wave of submissions come around, so if you've got your heart set on a certain spot, get it now before it's taken! Please also note that just because there's a pending submission, that doesn't mean you can't submit a tribute for that spot. I'm looking for the best I can get and I do enjoy having options, so please, don't let that stop you!

Tribute spots that I do need filled relatively soon are all of the career males as well as a D3F, so if you were looking to sub one of these, you're in luck!

Again, thanks for reading through and I hope you all enjoyed it! I know this prologue was a bit dialogue-heavy, but it won't be long until we're getting into the reapings, I promise!