Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

Note: It's been a long time coming, but here we are – the seventy third victor! The last one on the Walk of Victors we'll be learning the story of. If anybody has seen the first Hunger Games movie – and, like, you're reading a HG fic so I will assume you have lmao – then you'll have seen this guy. Magnus is the boy shown 'bricking' a tribute to death while Katniss watches TV alone on the train. That scene always captured my interesting because, well… if tribute outfit colours remain consistent (and in my canon they do) then he would have to be the D2M. But when he wins, he isn't cheering… he sighs in relief that it's over. Naturally this was plenty for me to craft a story out of. Hope you guys enjoy reading it!

N.C.s 1 Fan: I'll be keeping quiet over Trevy's relevance to the plots of other stories I have on the go. Rest assured, he'll pop up here and there, always with something crazy or eventful to getting on with, haha. This story will indeed have an epilogue, but to go into depth would be telling. All shall became clear in time. :D One thing I can say, however, is that the fate of every single victor will be revealed. No stone shall be left unturned.

"You know, all things considered… Magnus didn't win particularly long ago," Katniss said, gazing down at the imprinted face. "Feels like a lifetime and a half since then."

"Sure does," Peeta agreed. "Honestly, it feels like a hundred years since he smashed that poor boy from Ten with the brick."

"We're not even twenty. How could we even imagine what a hundred years feels like?" Katniss asked, curious. "Honestly, I barely watched these Games. I know, I know, they're recent… but really, why bother when our pair were the first two to die? I kept my eyes shut as long as I could get away with when mandatory viewing was on."

"I tried that too," Peeta said. "I wouldn't say you missed much, but Claudius had a field day commentating on this one. He seemed really attached to Magnus from the very start."

"Bias I guess," Katniss trailed off. "…I know now that careers were just as much pawns as everybody else. Hopefully Magnus made it out of the war safely."

"Hopefully," Peeta agreed. "We'll find out in a minute or two."

The pair held a silence for Magnus, the last of the victors from before the Games that changed everything arrived.

73rd Annual Hunger Games

Name: Magnus Sterlingshire

Gender: Male

District: 2

Age: 18

Kills: 6

THE ANNOUNCER

Being one of the two announcers for the Hunger Games is quite simply a dream job. Caesar and I make for one truly smashing team! Sure, on paper we're about equal, but I feel like what Caesar is to interviews what I am to commentary. A man of legend. Whatever happens in the arena or the opening events I'm almost always the first to be saying something about it, unless Caesar comes up with a witty remark he just cannot hold back. Improvising has always been easy for me, and it's easier still when the tributes are fun and the person doing the announcements, moi, cares about doing the job properly.

I'm basically a legend when it comes to the Capitol. Being one half the face of the Hunger Games makes it all inevitable, really. The parties, the interviews, the women, everything I could ever want in life. All it costs me is some of my time being spent commenting on teenagers in an arena. Who says all prices have to be hard to pay?

The Quarter Quell is looming very near, so obviously the Games coming right before it are under more pressure and scrutiny than normal to be a serious hit. Nobody wants a forgettable Hunger Games, whether or not they win their bet on the victor. So far the decade has been going just fine. Johanna was a surprise hit the nation has come to love and Numi really put Six back in favour. I won't deny the fact I have three signed copies of her mixtape, but honestly… can you blame me?

Today was reaping day, the opening festivals to any Hunger Games. For the most part it was pretty standard stuff overall – dashing and mighty tributes from One, admitted cannon fodder tributes from Twelve, the physically toughest outliers coming from Seven – but the real surprise came from District Two, the place that's often surprised me the least in the Games. They're always the place to find deadly and patriotic warriors, same old story every year. Granted it's a cliché and a district I simply adore, but not one anybody would call a place to find a surprise.

But yet, that's what happened when the boy was reaped. For as far back as I can remember there has always been somebody to volunteer to enter the Games – so brave and noble of them! – and in the absolute earliest Games the reaped tributes weren't really strong or anything much really. It was a different era. But when the escort trilled out the name 'Magnus Sterlingshire' I soon realised that we'd struck upon quite the bizarre situation. The odds must have been astronomical!

An absolute monster of a man mounted the stage, gazing out at his people. It became apparent very quickly that he was actually the chosen volunteer, a man whose chances to enter the Games were in jeopardy! All it would take is somebody volunteered to overrule him, just are the rules. But all he had to do was stare out at the crowd and they knew to bath the hell off. This man knew what he wanted and that was winning the Games and ending Two's unfortunate losing streak!

"That there is a tribute to watch out for," I told Caesar during the reaping recap. "Mark my words, Magnus will be a ferocious killer we'll never forget!"

I'm certain that Magnus will not let me down.

THE TRIBUTE

Yep, that's me on the reaping stage. You're probably wondering how I got myself into this situation. Well, it all started eight years ago when I got forced to train as a career.

I never wanted to be a career.

I never even wanted to attend Machete Ridge, whether or not I ended up coming anywhere near entering the arena.

Honestly, all I really wanted was to work in the local pub and live a nice, quiet sort of life. The Games simply weren't for me. I'm not a killer, I'm not a monster, I'm not a career. So many other teens want to be, so I figured I'd just let them do their thing and keep on going with my thing. Nobody ends up worse off, aside the tributes that fail to win.

Well, turns out life just isn't that simple. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised.

Due to the losing streak going on the attendance rate of cadets at Machete Ridge was dropping by twelve percent. Oh, the horror. Ohhhhhhhh noooooooo. That's why they fell back to their old practise of going to community homes and dragging the strong prospects off to their murder school whether the youths wanted it or not.

I was only ten when some Peacekeepers dragged me and some of my friends by our necks into the vans and took us away to that damn school. I've been stuck there every day of each year, bar one week annually, ever since.

I'm so big and strong normally that trying to screw up on purpose would be an obvious ploy. They'd punish me badly for it. They shot three others for trying it and, as much as I hated the place, I hated the idea of getting a bullet in my brain even more. I became a complete and utter tank. The perfect on-paper 'walking war machine'. Olga thought I had power to match hers.

Vile women. She did this. She turned out district into the cesspit of bloodlust and murder fanatics it is now. And for what? Nine victors since she took control? I would've loved to point out how she's destroyed our district, our culture, everything we once were… but there's just no reasoning with that women. Even after all the screw-ups the Capitol has made, like the infamous Thirty First Games, she still remains a patriot. It's the best way to 'keep us all safe' or some crap like that.

Anyway, I excelled at training. I just wanted to get it over with and get out of here as quickly as possible. Too bad for me I did too well and ended up saddled with the position of tribute for the year. I tried to insist that I wasn't mentally ready for the arena, that I had no interest and was only there as a result of being forced, but Olga didn't care.

She claimed it was an honour to represent Two and be the one to end our losing streak. It would be selfish and cowardly to refuse when I'm the strongest boy we have. It was one bullshit scripted sentence after another.

That and she threatened to have me shot if I refused. Well, fine, whatever. I had assumed I could just let the boy who was second in line take my place and beat me to volunteering. It's not exactly unheard of, and if he won then nobody would care. If he died then I'm out of the reaping bowl either way.

My shitty luck got shittier when my name was the one pulled. I had thought that it was perfect, that it'd give that boy the perfect reason to step up and get me out of this thing. No chance of either of us getting any backlash at all. It's not like a reaped tribute can volunteer, even if they were supposed to volunteer. Too bad none of the boys did anything!

Olga told me on the train ride I was the strongest candidate and the others knew it. Why risk lowering the odds of our victory when we've been losing for years as it is even with training?

I wanted to scream at her, cuss her out and call her on all her decades of bullshit and cruelty then and there… but, alas, I knew I couldn't. I'd be kicked from the career alliance if I did that. Pragmatism alone held back my anger.

I had no choice but to play the Games. But I did have a choice as to how I could play them… let my bloodthirsty allies do the bulk of the nasty stuff and poison them at the end. After that, just survive and outlive whoever the last outlier might be. If it came down to it I'd probably have more water than they would.

Too bad nothing can ever be that simple. Claudius called me some kind of ferocious beast on the reaping recap… well, I'll show him! I'll show them all I'm not just some thug!

The one upside was Rhyder telling me this was similar to how his late mother became a victor. She was forced into it, was reaped and managed to stay true to who she was at heart, more or less, until she won.

Hopefully I can follow Runa's example.

THE ANNOUNCER

The parade is always the place where the commentary really begins. Who could say no to some flashy chariots, flashier personalities and everybody having a great time? Some of the costumes can be a bit silly, but isn't that part of the fun?

Caesar likes to give all of the tributes some air time and attention. He's always been one of those bleeding hearts around the Capitol. Nothing wrong with that of course, but my interest always lays in the flashier and grander districts. They always have the best costumes and personalities. Simply put, it's more material for me to work with.

I mean, after so many decades, how much more can be said about the Sevens being dressed as trees?

The Ones were wonderful as always, this time dressed as crystal warriors. It's fortunate indeed that such a classy district starts off the parade each year. Can one imagine District Twelve starting it off? Bless them, they'd have no idea what to do.

As was often the case District Two stole the show this year. It's often less a contest about which district will make the best debut and moreso which tribute of the careers will pull it off. Numi last year was simply the exception to the rule. This year it was big, strong and vicious Magnus that wowed the crowd – he made it look effortless!

The war paint, the jagged spear, the tribal costume made from bones – maybe even the bones of fallen tributes, who can say for sure? – and Magnus look of pure concentration all came together to make the boy into one fearsome predator. I wouldn't like to face him in a fight, that's for sure!

The more outlying tributes all looked afraid of him and rightly so. This man, this powerful career, is sure to be our victor. If only I was allowed to make bets!

"I firmly believe that District Two's unfortunate losing streak is almost over," I had said to Caesar.

"You sound certain of that. What makes you so sure?" he'd replied, pausing from his commentary on the District Eight tributes and their jester outfits.

"Look at Magnus. Don't you see the ferocity in his eyes? The pure readiness to kill? He so composed, he doesn't need to wave or show off to get people to take him seriously," I'd exclaimed. "That there is our future champion!"

THE TRIBUTE

The parade was an exercise in patience. The costume I was given, well, it's better than being naked and covered in coal dust like the Twelves were just a few years ago, but I felt like a jackass wearing the bone warrior outfit. If there was ever a time that Two needed to hire a new stylist it would be now.

I resolved to just keep my mouth shut and hope the parade would be over soon enough. I never did like being in front of lots of people at once. I guess you could say I can relate to Rook in some ways.

It ended up being a lot harder than I thought it was going to be. It was nearly impossible to not let my nerves show in front of the screaming savages. My district partner Kallaway loved every second of the parade, constantly showing off for the crowd. Me? I just used all my energy to not start shaking. I saw myself on one of the screens and it looked like I was frowning, like I had indigestion or something.

I'm not sure how I can win this thing. But win or lose, I want to still be me. I'm not going to be anything like what Olga intends for me to become. The career mould she thinks we ought to be didn't work for most of the boys who volunteered since her Games.

The worst part was how so many of the outliers were scared of me. They took one look and thought I was going to kill them. I don't know what's worse, the fact they assumed that of me when they don't even know me… or the fact I might have to, no matter how much I'd rather not.

THE ANNOUNCER

I've always resented the fact I never get to hear what goes on in the training centre, even after all of these years. It remains a complete mystery to me, but I guess that's where part of the magic comes from. At least the lack of concrete facts about the happenings within the training centre means more freedom for me to make up theories on talk shows during the pre-Games events.

Caesar is always the one who reads out the training scores for the audience and I never get to hear them in advance. Apparently it's to 'prevent leaks', but I'd call it unfairness plain and simple.

As always I'd been in a fancy restaurant with friends when the scores were read. It was back to work with me the following morning and things would only get busier, so I'd made sure to make the most of the quiet evening. A huge helping of honey roasted boar ribs seemed like just the way to do it!

I was barely halfway through my meal when Caesar began to read out the scores. All around me bets were made and money changed hands. Alas, professional standards held me back from joining in. Oh the horror!

Some were quick to call it a fairly predictable year as far as scores go. High scores for One and Two. Low scores almost everywhere else with a few surprises like the Eights getting scores to match their district and the boy from Ten managing a nine.

But they were all nothing in comparison to ferocious killing machine Magnus! He alone scored an eleven. I'll never know for sure what he did to earn it, same as with any score, but I sure can imagine it. I'll bet he imagined all the murders he's so excited to commit on the other tributes and got stuck in, a sword in one hand and a massive axe in the other. He must have been as vicious as a wild animal!

"I'm telling you guys," I had said to my friends. "Magnus is going to win and might even set a new kill record. If not, he'll at least leave a trail of blood behind himself."

Not one of them disagreed with me, and rightly so!

THE TRIBUTE

Training was awful, start to finish.

I'd wanted to see if I could break the mould and, just maybe, look into wilderness survival skills. I mean, with how often that plays a part in our tributes dying – including those in our losing streak! – it seemed like it'd be common sense to know how to handle myself in the wilderness of the arena. , Even my district never knows for sure what the arena might be, though I think we can at least be assured it won't be another coal mine. Not after the disaster of the Thirty First Games. But, that's still a lot of other terrains where I might starve, dehydrate or get poisoned within.

Olga wasn't having any of it, not even when I laid out the facts; we keep losing because if literally anything happens to the supplies our tributes become helpless. She just claimed I was being a selfish, ungrateful child and that the generous sponsors of the Capitol would keep Kallaway and I well supplied. I could've quit while I was ahead, but the thing about me? Calm as I try to be, when I get pissed off I really get pissed. I asked her where those sponsors were in our losing streak and during some years where the supplies ran out or became lost; the Twenty First, the Thirty First, the Forty Second, the Fifty Sixth… I could've went on, but Olga slapped me down and demanded Kallaway to remind me how to be a real tribute.

I'm honestly not sure if Olga is that deeply brainwashed or just in complete denial at this point. The Capitol has messed up with their own games several times over at this point. They even cost Olga her nephew Boris thanks to poor arena construction.

Part of me wonders if Olga's instance that we follow the exact same mould year after year is part why our tributes have been losing the advantage they once had. After the bloodbath it's just… like watching the exact same person year after year, always ending up the same way as the one before.

Anyway, Kallaway did her best to obey Olga right to the letter. She practically dragged me over to the Ones, forced me to use swords and maces until my muscles were aching, had me join in with tormenting the outliers – I only joined in because I wasn't about to have three sociopaths out for my blood – and ensured I only ate bread, ramen and other such basics for lunch. Apparently a true career needs nothing more than what is basic and often comes with sponsors or inside the cornucopia.

Why did we let Olga be in charge again?

My anger built up day after day. In the morning Olga would recite various Capitol propaganda to me, throughout the day Kallaway would control my every action and refuse to let me do anything the way I wanted to and then in the evenings there would be even more propaganda. It was driving me crazy!

I got the feeling that Mercy and Rhyder wanted to help me, maybe smuggle me to another room and let me vent, but Olga never took her eyes off of me. She didn't want me 'going rogue' like they did. I retorted that most of our victors who came after Olga broke the mould and the majority of those who followed Olga's idea of what we 'should' act like ended up dead.

She punched me for that one. For an elderly woman she hits damn hard! While waiting for my private training session I could hardly think of anything but how much I hated her and what she's done to our district over the years. I was still angry when I was called it, so in the end I decided to use that anger to better my score.

My rampage fuelled by how much I hate careers, the Games, the lies they have stolen… it was deemed good enough for an eleven. I didn't see it coming and neither did Olga. She looked at me with something almost halfway to respect.

"It seems like you finally decided to listen to me. I knew you'd see the light eventually," she had said, giving a slow nod.

I just nodded and let her think whatever she wanted. My short term survival comes first and pissing her off may compromise that. I'll have all my life to tell her just how awful I think she is once I've won.

Maybe I'll still have some humanity left in that time? A guy can dream.

THE ANNOUNCER

The interviews were a spectacle as always! It's Caesar's show here, not mine, but that doesn't make it any less enjoyable. Who could say no to some of the best seats in the audience and quipping about the tributes being interviewed? It's always a great night to lead into the happiest time of the year.

The highlight, obviously, was Magnus. My powerful, murderous boy did just fine! Nobody can pick out a victor like I can! There's no doubt he'll be the biggest killing machine of the decade and I for one cannot wait to see how he handles himself when he's in the thick of the fray.

The best part is that Magnus didn't even need to say much, keeping his response short, simple and to the point. His grimace said enough for us to all understand. I guess he was just wanting to get it over with quickly so he could get on with making the arena his personal kingdom!

THE TRIBUTE

The interview was horrifying. I mean, what sane person would want to be interviewed in front of these colourful savages? It was even worse than the parade; this time their attention was entirely on me, not spread across the other tributes as well. I didn't trust myself to say more than a half dozen words at a time, lest I lose my nerve and look weak in front of the audience.

Weak tributes don't get sponsors and I'm gonna need them thanks to Olga ensuring I couldn't' learn shit about surviving in the wild!

Luckily for me the crowd seemed to enjoy the strong, near silent sort of image I was giving off. I don't think these airheads realised how scared I was to be on that stage. I'd say I'd love to never do it again, but that'd mean I'd not get a victor interview and therefore I'd be dead.

Nerve wracking as it was, I know the worst is still to come. I'm gonna have kill people. What kind of a nation has its people be permitted to fucking kill each other? One that needs a serious change of direction.

But, what can I do to change anything? It seems all I can do is try not to die.

THE ANNOUNCER

The bloodbath is always such an exciting start to any Hunger Games and this year was, as with everything else, not any sort of an exception! The blood, the frantic movements, the numerous different strategies in play and the chances for surprising deaths and for early favourites to assert just how strong they are to the nation. Even the losers have their own share in the fun going on; what is more honourable and important than being able to die in the arena for the sake of our great country?

Well, there is just one thing… getting to commentate over the events as they unfolded! It's my first chance to shine every year without having to share the spotlight with anybody else. It's me and me alone who lays down each and every word as the tributes battle it out amongst themselves. It's not as easy job; it requires fast talking, the ability to watch the entire battlefield at once, making witty remarks and clever puns at the drop of a hat and occasionally remembering each tribute's name. Apparently, in the earliest days of the Games, the commentators they had in rotation kept forgetting the names of those from Ten, Eleven and Twelve! How unprofessional!

This year's bloodbath was better than last year's was. Sure, the large number of surviving tributes made the minecart chase possible, but a measly six deaths is boring. Boring! This year had a grand total of ten and was vastly more entertaining! The way the boy from One valiantly eliminated the unpatriotic crybabies from Eleven! The skill the girl from Two showed when she used her whip to systematically remove the limbs of the visually displeasing boy from Nine! Even the Threes showed their stuff, working as one unit to gather supplies and leave the boy from Five for dead, whoa!

There's almost always a shock during the bloodbath in any good Hunger Games and this year wasn't to be an exception. The girl from One is dead! The foolish girl should have watched her back; maybe if she had the boy from Ten would've been unable smash rubble over her head! Ouch! That boy, Rind I believe, might be a contender for the crown.

Of course, nobody is a bigger contender than popular savage Magnus! He was even a good enough sport to stay on his pedestal for a few moments, perhaps letting the weaker tributes have a head start. Not that it mattered of course! He sprinted to the cornucopia in six seconds flat and rummaged for weapons, claiming a gorgeous sledgehammer for himself. The tiny boy from Twelve moved behind him, only to earn a sledgehammer to the face when Magnus turned around in a flash! Magnus looked upset, but I suppose he was just annoyed he couldn't have drawn it out or perhaps killed a more worthwhile tribute for his first kill in the Games. My poor savage!

The bloodbath was sublime from start to finish, even when Magnus prevented his district partner from cutting the girl from Seven to pieces and simply smashed her with the sledgehammer. Gore galore! Magnus pointed out that torture just means the outliers getting further away and the Others dropped it from there. Strong and smart, what a guy!

Mark my words, Magnus will go down as a true beast of a victor!

THE TRIBUTE

I'm still shaking after what happened at the bloodbath. I'm not sure what the worst part was; the broken bodies of so many young tributes, the fact two of them were all my fault or that this is the sort of shit that my district things is 'honourable' and 'proves our loyalty to the Capitol'. How can destroying young lives safeguard the future when children are literally the future?

The best I could do was quickly kill the girl from Seven before Kallaway could tear her apart – she was dead either way – but the boy from twelve? I have no excuse. How the fuck could I do something like that, accident or not?! I shan't sleep tonight.

The really creepy part, at least to me, is that back in training the Ones got along so well. But now that Lustella is dead Admired has begun to act like he never knew her. He doesn't even acknowledge any bond they once had nor did he even spare her body a glance. Is he mentally blocking it all away, or did he seriously care that little about a fellow human being?

Frankly my allies are maniacs… and I've got no way to live unless I suck it up and work with them. I can't exactly spare any of the outliers when there's only one victor, but maybe if I can hold Kallaway and Admired back I may be able to keep them safe from the worst of what my allies can do.

Maybe then I may be able to look at myself in the mirror without recoiling by the time this is all over.

THE ANNOUNCER

The career pack, with Magnus' leadership, make it seem so easy to track down the other tributes. Normally there's at least a slight delay until a career pack will find their first outlier, but Magnus has managed to bring them towards a grand total of three tributes! All this and the selfless warlord only claimed one kill for himself. District Two must be very proud!

Magnus seems to have this odd habit of tackling the tributes down and then knocking them out. It's a shame there's no theatrics, goofy screaming like tributes are prone to acting out… but, a kill is a kill. I suppose it's just a price to pay for the action that comes with Magnus' style of tackling his foes to the ground.

So effective was Magnus that the gamemakers decided to split up the pack for a while with some brand new creatures from the mutt labs. They really outdid themselves with the skinless dogs and the ugly bats or, as Seneca Crane insists on calling them, Groaners and Air Screamers. They sent the careers running helter and skelter!

Magnus, of course, fought them off far too easily. So easily in fact that a second wave was sent after him as a reward for his strength. I was on the edge of my seat the entire time!

Magnus collapsed in a ruined clocktower after that, covering his face. I suppose he was just tired, but that's alright. The boy has earned his rest. Tomorrow it'll be back to business and killing his way to the finish line!

THE TRIBUTE

This arena is hell. It's fucking hell!

I've been doing the best I can to spare the outliers from torture and terror, but at the same time I can't let Kallway and Admired get wise to the fact I'm just not like them. I might be able to take one of them, but two at the same time? It's a fight that I'd surely end up losing.

I didn't mean to find the outliers at the rate I have been, but I reacted the same way each time. From the moment we found them their fates were sealed, but not the manner in which they would die. I figured that tackling them and knocking them unconscious was about the best thing I could do for them. At least they wouldn't be awake to see the weapons come down onto them.

Admired and Kallaway were pissed, obviously. I just told them that if they wanted to kill people so badly then they should run faster. I wasn't about to slow down for them to get the first hit on people. They interpreted it as a challenge, so it seems my cover is secure for now.

Though, if I'm lucky I won't have to see those monsters again. The mutts drove us apart and, hey, at least I don't need to feel guilty over killing monsters bred only to cause pain and suffering.

On the other hand I sure feel a lot of pain! One of the bastards bit into my shoulder. I was swiftly sponsored some medicine, but it's not kicked in yet. It's gonna be a long, painful night in the clocktower ahead of me.

Right now I'm sitting in a quiet corner, hoping that nobody can see how close to losing my mind I am. I might even cry at this rate. Just… this really sucks. It's shit! I can't do this, I can't do this…

But, I'll have to do it. It's that or die. I'm not ready to die… but I'm not ready to let go of all my humanity and everything that makes me, well… me.

I just hope Kallaway and Admired don't find anymore tributes. Nobody deserves what those maniacs would do to them.

THE ANNOUNCER

A day or two of rest was all Magnus needed to get back into the game. He was working overtime to try and find more tributes. He moved much faster than his scattered allies had a chance of doing and he found somebody in the first few hours of searching. The little girl from Eight, cowering like a silly mouse in an old café.

Magnus just walked away from her, perhaps deeming her hardly worth his time. Now that there is really cold! It's honourable to die in the arena for the future of this great country, and he wouldn't even give her that much. What a savage! I love it!

But Magnus isn't just a savage, he's pragmatic and knows how to twist unspoken rules to his own benefit. He spotted his district partner sleeping in a back alley in the dead hours of the night.

He caught Rind from Ten red handed, about to bring a spear down onto her face. The pair had exchanged stares for several long moments. My heart was practically pounding!

"What do you think is gonna happen now?" Caesar asked me. "Rind's like a deer caught in headlights."

"I think District Ten will be having to wait longer to have their fifth victor I'm afraid," I'd gestured to the action on the screen. "Just look at how doomed he is, he'll be… well now, what's this?"

Magnus gave him a short nod and walked the other way. Rind seemed puzzled, but he didn't question it. He worked fast to eliminate his opponent and claim another career kill for himself.

"Damn, Magnus and Rind aren't messing around," Caesar had looked a little… strange. I really should ask him why he's acting like this, one of these days. "Do you feel like this violates that 'taboo' thing the districts have developed since the Sixty First Games? The thing where they cannot kill their district partner outside of mercy or being the last ones left?"

"I don't think," I'd replied, smirking ear to ear. "Magnus was clever. He dumped a powerful adversary to his own chances and he had Rind do the dirty work for him. His hands are free of blood and the consequences he'd normally have gotten. Besides, Rind would've probably at least given the girl from Two a concussion before Magnus could've reached him anyway."

"Just a reminder for the fans watching from their homes, her name was Kallaway Bellafrost," Caesar had added. "Interesting outlook on the matter Claudius."

Caesar really has changed over the years. I'm not sure what it is, but he's just not got his heart in the action like he used to. If he's not careful he might lose his job. All the same… being promoted to Master of Ceremonies wouldn't be a bad thing!

THE TRIBUTE

I wonder if I'll even be able to show myself around Two anymore, or even outside of the victor village. I didn't exactly break the taboo per-say, but abandoning Kallaway to what I knew was her certain death isn't going to get me much support from back home.

Still, at least this way she didn't die screaming or realising she wasted her whole life. I'm fast, but not fast enough to somehow have been able to reach Rind before he bought the spear down into Kallaway's neck, or at least punched her in the throat. Nothing I could've done.

Then again, I didn't try… and I had the nerve to give him a nod. Practically an expression of approval! I think there's term for what I am, and it's what my escort would call a 'hot mess'.

I must be doing something right. I was sponsored a spear – and a letter filled with profanity from Olga – only a few hours after Kallaway's cannon fired. I guess somehow I'm still in good standing with the Capitol. Here I was thinking that I was the worst career who ever lived.

The strange part is that I hadn't minded thinking that. The idea of those bloodthirsty freaks rooting for me is more disturbing than people might think it is.

I'm such a mess. I'm starting to doubt I could fight Admired off if he came for me. He lives for violence and I don't. At least, I hope not.

THE ANNOUNCER

Things change so fast in the Games that it can often be hard to keep up with it all! That was certainly the case in the arena today when the Feast was called for the final seven tributes.

It started with Several outliers running in to grab what they could, only for Admired to emerge from the Cornucopia and pin down the boy from Four. It seemed like some delightful bloody drama was sure to ensure after that, only for Magnus to intervene with a spear into the fisher boy's head. The argument over Magnus being a kill stealer versus Admired wasting time with petty torture was enough for the outliers to run off. I was so disappointed by the feast only claiming one measly life that I almost wept!

"That was a letdown!" I was about ready to cry on camera. Where was the action, the drama, the death? "A letdown of the decade!"

"Hang on Claudius," Caesar has interjected. "It's not over yet."

It was to my delight that Admired calmed down enough to suggest he and Magnus resume their alliance, pointing out that there were still four outliers left to go and none of them were exactly pitiful in combat. Magnus didn't hesitate to agree.

That's when it had all clicked. Magnus wanted to ensure there was enough cannon fodder left to justify the continuation of the original alliance. Absolutely brilliant! What a smart plan. I truly hadn't seen it coming!

The real plot twist to it all came during the night after the boy from Seven met his end to a pack of Groaners. Magnus took first watch, keeping a steely eye out for any mutts… and the moment that Admired started to snore Magnus bought his sledgehammer down onto him so damn hard that the weapon actually broke!"

"Whoa, did you see that?!" I'd leapt up from my seat, jaw slack in awe.

"I certainly did Claudius," Caesar's forcing a smile again. What's up with him? "I thought that Magnus was trying to restart the alliance."

"That was a bluff in itself. It seems that getting Admired to agree to that was merely another step to a further plan, a trap. He wanted Admired asleep and without a way to fight back, right at Magnus' non-existent mercy. He had all of us strung along!" I can't help but applaud. "Well played Magnus, that was genius! With just three outliers to go and all of his former allies dead I don't think there's much standing between Magnus and victor now. This bloodsoaked warlord has his eyes on the prize people!"

THE TRIBUTE

I'd really wanted some water from the feast, nothing more, but seeing Admired about to butcher an innocent person forced my hand. It was easy to scare off most of the other tributes and easier still to throw my spear right where I was aiming for. Another pointless murder, but still not as slow and painful as what Admired was going to do.

Admired was pissed as shit, calling me a kill stealer. It bothered me more than he may have thought; it's true, I stole a kill and added another life's worth of blood to my own hands. That's four now. How many more is it going to be?

Admired ended up simmering out and suggesting we team up. I wanted to tell him to eat my ass and fuck off, but I just couldn't be bothered at that point. I was too tired from dehydration and all the running I'd been doing. Besides, at least he's not attacking me yet and this way I'd be able to keep an eye on him, maybe spare one of the other from a bit of torture.

My willingness to work with him lasted, say, maybe around ten minutes? The arena did something to his head and he's barely able to stop twitching or talking about murder. I think I've killed more than him, so I'm not sure if I can judge… but I will say I'm not about to 'cut off a tribute's toes, have them grow back and then cut them off again'. Admired has issues.

Well, he had issues at any rate. A cannon went off late in the night – according to the anthem it was the girl from Three – and that's when I felt that I no longer needed Admired around. Why stick with somebody so unstable and risk him torturing either myself or somebody else? No changing the fact only one can live, but at least I can change how people die.

I'm not letting fingers get cut off.

I think the scariest part of it all wasn't the squishy sounds I heard when I smashed Admired's head. It was how I didn't feel much of anything for the boy who genuinely wanted to be within this arena.

I spent most of the night hunched up and shaking. What sort of monster am I turning into?

THE ANNOUNCER

The finale was smashing! Simply smashing! It certainly left Rind smashed, haha!

After the boy from Eleven and the girl from Four died to the Air Screamers it came down to Magnus and Rind, and boy oh boy the battle did not disappoint whatsoever!

One moment Magnus was just walking along near a slope towards the outskirts of the abandoned city. The next moment Rind had tried to tackle him down, in hopes of catching my ferocious boy off of his guard! It cost Magnus his hammer but it wasn't enough to take him down. Oh no no no! It was simply bought out the beast within him!

Rind tried to call him a monster, like anybody would care about such accusations. He said it like it were a bad thing! Magnus didn't respond, merely trying to keep his focus on the battle. Both boys got some good hits in on each other and for a few moments Magnus almost seemed afraid. Ah, what could it be besides a clever trick to try and take his foe off of his guard?

Magnus tried to tackle Rind several times, but Rind simply would not quit. He wasn't about to get knocked out and miss out on his glorious final moments! Even after losing all of his weapons and being up against a tough rancher with a knife Magnus still had plenty of tricks up his sleeves.

Using the rubble of the ruined city was very clever indeed. A lot more acceptable than how Haymitch cheated with the forcefield some years ago. Rind never knew what hit him! But I sure did – a brick! Haha!

It was my pleasure to announce Magnus as the victor of the Games. It was a shock to me that he alone wasn't cheering over the outcome to the most glorious Games we've had in a while, but I suppose he was just tired out from all the combat he'd gotten himself into.

No matter, he'll certainly have perked up by the time the party at President Snow's manor arrives. I wonder if he'll be open to posing for a selfie with me, perhaps holding up a brick while he does so.

One can only hope!

THE TRIBUTE

It's over. It's finally fucking over…

I let the brick fall from my grasp, sickened by the mere sight of the terrible object. I can't bring myself to look down at Rind's corpse. His last cries, moans and insults still ring in my head. I failed to knock him out like the rest and had to pay the price for it.

'Murderer'

'Sadist'

'Lapdog'

Insults that my district has well and truly earned. Is this what we've been rewarded for doing to other districts for years? Causing so much agony? Why the hell are other youths back home so eager to take part in this shit?

It all comes back to Olga. Baron may have been the first volunteer, but Olga is the one that glorified the Games and made it seem like such an honour. She did this. She is the one that brainwashed so many people! So many lives ended all thanks to her… but am I being a hypocrite? I added six lives to the pile of what has been taken.

I can't undo any of it… but maybe I can do my best to see if I can do anything to cause the Capitol a few issues. I'm not letting this shit go unpunished. There has to be something I can do to get them back. There has to be something I could do to cause Olga to have to face the facts – this is wrong and she's ruined our district.

I dwell on this for the entire ride back to the hovercraft.

I know already that there's a longstanding rule against mentors sponsoring their own tributes… but is there anything against them sponsoring somebody else's tribute? I wonder… perhaps if I used some of my winnings to line Haymitch's pockets next year he might be able to give his tributes a chance? He's smart, he may be able to play it off like he found some rich sponsor. It's not like forged sponsors are anything new, according to Rhyder at least.

I'd take a Twelve winning over somebody like the academy favourites, those sadistic monsters Clove and, worst of them all, Cato.

Katniss and Peeta ended off their silence and resumed walking down the street. They had arrived at The Golden Goose, only slightly late all things considered.

The last faces imprinted onto the Walk of Victors looked up at them from outside of the café's door.

Their own.

"I never even realised they had our faces here. Guess I should have seen it coming," Katniss muttered. "I don't like being reminded of my kills."

"Who would?" Peeta agreed. "Seems I have one there too. I guess, as it's not counting the quell, that must be when I punched Cato to the mutts… maybe we shared that kill? Or it could have been Foxface."

"Cinder," Katniss corrected. "I learnt her name the other week. May they all rest in peace."

Katniss and Peeta stood in silence for a few moments, shaking somewhat as they recalled their own Hunger Games. They both turned as one to the door leading into the café and the victor party within.

"You ready?" Peeta asked.

"Not really," Katniss replied. "But with you beside me… maybe I will be before the time comes for us to go home."

"Thanks Katniss," Peeta said, managing to smile.

The pair from Twelve entered the doors of the Golden Goose, wondering who they would see inside its walls.

So, how was that? As I've said, Magnus' canon reactions to winning the Hunger Games do not match how a career, like Cato for example, would feel upon winning. No cheering, no delight, nothing much. He didn't even look wounded, so it wasn't pain weighing him down or anything. All this considered it made sense to have a tale of a reluctant career, one who I hope ended up being an enjoyable character for us to follow. I think juxtaposing the same scenes with the viewpoints of Magnus and Claudius made for an interesting sort of chapter and Games overall? By all means, let me know what you thought of him. :)

And now… the Walk of Victors is OVER! The victor party has arrived and that means we're going to be seeing who survived the Second Rebellion. Which victors managed to make it all the way to the end, safe and sound? It's a huge list and quite a lot of content to get through, wouldn't you say? So… how about I give you guys a bit of help working it all out?

As we know from canon there are seven survivors, and nothing in this fic has done a thing to change that. So, obviously, these seven are just fine.

#37: Beetee Latier
#50: Haymitch Abernathy
#62: Enobaria Golding
#70: Annie Cresta
#71: Johanna Mason
#74: Katniss Everdeen
#74: Peeta Mellark

Subtract those seven from seventy five and we're left with sixty eight. From there we can further subtract the eighteen who sadly lost their lives in the Third Quarter Quell, those tragic deaths being those of:

#11: Mags Flanagan (Walked into Toxic Fog)
#16: Woof Casino (Speared through the chest by Brutus)
#33: Seeder Howell (Skull struck with a mace by Gloss)
#36: Laurel Flamsteel (Stabbed in the gut with a sword by Brutus)
#43: Tabbock Summers (Drowned by Peeta)
#45: Chaff Mitchell (Stabbed in the chest multiple times with a serrated dagger by Brutus)
#47: Wiress Plummer (Throat slit with a knife by Gloss)
#48: Neon Erg (Impaled through the chest with a trident by Finnick)
#49: Brutus Gunn (Neck broken by Peeta. Prior weakened via a poisoned shoe by Pasture)
#53: Blight Jordan (Ran into the forcefield)
#54: Bentley Cordory (Throat slashed with a scimitar by Cashmere)
#56: Porsche London (Mortally wounded by monkey mutts)
#57: Arendellian Spinner III (Caught in a tidal wave)
#59: Pasture Gallows (Ganged up on by all four careers, with the final blow dealt with a knife by Brutus)
#60: Cecelia Mog (Stabbed in the back with a short sword by Enobaria)
#63: Gloss Lord (Shot in the chest with an arrow by Katniss)
#64: Cashmere Lord (Struck in the chest with an axe by Johanna)
#69: Skinner Alecto (Mortally wounded by The Beast. Torn apart by The Beast's claws when the monster's body fell.)

Take away eighteen from sixty eight and, of course, we're left with fifty. But we're not done yet guys! We have to take into account that canon makes it clear sixteen victors passed away before the Third Quell was ever a thing. And, what do you know, I knew this going in and made sure the fact was reflected within the story. These sixteen have moved to the great beyond.

#1: Mizar Aldjoy (Cancer. 60th Games)
#2: Pliny Aransio (Old Age. 71st Games)
#3: Museida Selkirk (Old Age. 70th Games)
#4: Baron Overwhill (Old Age, 72nd Games)
#6: Duke Saint-Rose (Took a bullet meant for Pliny while saving her from a deranged fan. 48th Games)
#7: Runa Peace (Old age. 69th Games)
#8: Peridot Gaudy (Old Age. 69th Games)
#9: Fir Buzz (Old age. 74th Games)
#12: Shunt Gaspar (Accidently poisoned by President Snow. 35th Games)
#14: Crystal McCree (Died of natural causes - mostly a weak heart. 44th Games)
#18: Isobel Sparks (Sniped in the head by 'The Grim' with a heavily customed bolt action sniper rifle. 38th Games)
#22: Pi Orbit (committed suicide by electrocution. 25th Games)
#25: Vercingetorix Carnby (Shot with a pistol by Ajax. 48th Games)
#31: Chassis Macalister (Was dying of cancer. Went out in one last demolition derby. 72nd Games)
#35: Librae Ogilvy (PRESUMED DECEASED at sea during a vicious battle against Peacekeeper Pirates. 61st Games.)
#41: Mascara Court (Died in a mutual takedown due to a vicious battle against The Grim. 41st Games)

So, after that bit of quick math we're left with thirty four, among whom are twelve survivors. My aide to you guys comes to an end here. It's up to you to see if you can work out who is alive! Some have been shown to die, others were at specific places at specific times. Some genuinely are a mystery. Can you work out who has managed to cheat death once more and survived to see the Capitol fall? Good luck!

#5: Honorius Perthshire
#10: Olga Machete
#13: Gwenith Rosebud
#15: Bear Redfoot
#17: Rook Valiant
#19: Bronze Marley
#20: Boulder Atherston
#21: Jack Tylos
#23: Tide Luther
#24: Crown Martins
#26: Stallion March
#27: Dragon Batofel
#28: Teff Withers
#29: Crimson Flanders
#30: Paige Murphy
#32: Dollar Dettwieller
#34: Snag Nakamura
#38: Porter Tripp
#39: Rhyder Overwhill
#40: Lammy Phyronix
#42: Spool Nylon
#44: Platinum Twist
#46: Mercy Gregor
#51: Lyme Rabe
#52: Anchor Paddock
#55: Wattzon Holmes
#58: Yohan Fairbane
#61: Logger Barlow
#65: Finnick Odair
#66: Spud Munroe
#67: Augustus Braun
#68: Ron Stafford
#72: Numi Marrolto
#73: Magnus Sterlingshire

Stats

District 1: Peridot Gaudy (8th Games), Crystal McCree (14th Games), Bronze Marley (19th Games), Crown Martins (24th Games), Dollar Dettwieller (32nd Games), Mascara Court (41st Games), Platinum Twist (44th Games), Gloss Lord (63rd Games), Cashmere Lord (64th Games), Augustus Braun (67th Games)

District 2: Baron Overwhill (4th Games), Runa Peace (7th Games), Olga Machete (10th Games), Rook Valiant (17th Games), Boulder Atherston (20th Games), Vercingetorix Carnby (25th Games), Dragon Batofel (27th Games), Rhyder Overwhill (39th Games), Mercy Gregor (46th Games), Brutus Gunn (49th Games), Lyme Rabe (51st Games), Enobaria Golding (62nd Games), Magnus Sterlingshire (73rd Games)

District 3: Honorius Perthshire (5th Games), Pi Orbit (22nd Games), Beetee Latier (37th Games), Wiress Plummer (47th Games), Yohan Fairbane (58th Games)

District 4: Museida Selkirk (3rd Games), Mags Flanagan (11th Games), Tide Luther (23rd Games), Librae Ogilvy (35th Games), Anchor Paddock (52nd Games), Finnick Odair (65th Games), Ron Stafford (68th Games), Annie Cresta (70th Games)

District 5: Shunt Gaspar (12th Games), Isobel Sparks (18th Games), Crimson Flanders (29th Games), Porter Tripp (38th Games), Neon Erg (48th Games), Wattzon Holmes (55th Games), Arendellian Spinner III (57th Games)

District 6: Chassis Macalister (31st Games), Bentley Corduroy (54th Games), Porsche London (56th Games), Numi Marrolto (72nd Games)

District 7: Pliny Aransio (2nd Games), Fir Buzz (9th Games), Jack Tylos (21st Games), Snag Nakamura (34th Games), Blight Jordan (53rd Games), Logger Barlow (61st Games), Johanna Mason (71st Games)

District 8: Woof Casino (16th Games), Paige Murphy (30th Games), Spool Nylon (42nd Games), Cecelia Mog (60th Games)

District 9: Mizar Aldjoy (1st Games), Gwenith Rosebud (13th Games), Teff Withers (28th Games), Laurel Flamsteel (36th Games), Tabbock Summers (43rd Games), Trevy Vex (Escaped 55th Games)

District 10: Stallion March (26th Games), Lammy Phyronix (40th Games), Pasture Gallows (59th Games), Skinner Alecto (69th Games)

District 11: Bear Redfoot (15th Games), Seeder Howell (33rd Games), Chaff Mitchell (45th Games), Spud Munroe (66th Games)

District 12: Duke Saint-Rose (6th Games), Haymitch Abernathy (50th Games), Katniss Everdeen (74th Games), Peeta Mellark (74th Games)