A/N: Shout to Princesss of no Hope, Cinicz, and TheHungerGamesFan01 for the continued reviews! Always makes a writer's day to hear back from readers…and yeah, that's the same Scion, Princesss, heh; he's been around a while.

"…Approximately 446 years since this installation has been submerged. During that time, contact with the surface was achieved only twice. It is currently the 2,517th year in the common era."

Scion rattled away upbeat answers to River's boundless litany of questions. The robotic sphere had led Sam and her fellow former tributes to a sort of subway station in the base of the "terminal," as Scion referred to the dilapidated building. A run-down, boxy train car had sat lonely at the station, waiting for passengers who clearly hadn't graced its beige interior and motley padded seats in many years. The futuristic, curved surroundings of the dock had been a deceptive site as compared to what else Sam had seen so far.

Still, if the forgotten train took them to where they needed to go, Sam would put up with it. The slow, jerking train ride gave a curious River plenty of time to pick over their newest guide's mind, anyhow.

"What's the common era?" River asked Scion.

"An arbitrary time standard established by a sixth-century monk and canonized by the historical emperor Charlemagne, promoting its widespread use during the Dark Ages," Scion answered to a tee, spitting off facts Sam had no inkling of. "The 2,071st year of which witnessed the conclusion of the latest incarnation of recorded human civilization. An act from which I was created."

"Wait," River interjected, her curiosity getting the better of any concern regarding the alien surroundings. "Was that…when the world before…"

"Ended," Scion finished. "As Ecclesiastes 3:8 states, there is a time for war and a time for peace. This was a truly global war fostered by the forces of the democratic Assembly of Nations and the free-market Corporate Alliance. As radiological and biological weapons devastated the world's habitable land, I and my forefathers were entrusted with a Domain – to reinvent human civilization when the time was ripe to venture onto land once more. That point..."

Sam wasn't as eager to listen to the drone's spiel. She wanted to get a grip on the current situation – and as Firth argued with Cheyenne over his radio about the group's moves, Sam took a seat on a ripped couch beside Jetty and Persephone.

"Sam," Jetty looked tentative as she spoke up quietly. "What…do you actually know anything of what's going on here? I mean…that voice back at the dock mentioned you…"

"I don't," Sam shook her head and closed her eyes. "I really don't."

"We're not trying to press," Persephone interrupted quickly to dispel any worries. "We just…y'know, it's best if everyone knows everything we can, right?"

"He…" Sam paused. How much should she reveal to these two? Admittedly they were in the same boat, but Persephone and Jetty weren't originally like Sam, River, Lily, and the others. They were bred as Careers. They killed for a living, despite a pair of pretty faces. "Nihlus, he just said…in the arena, when I confronted him at the end of the Games, he told me he'd been sent somewhere once; that he'd been created, not born like everyone else. He said later when we were in that…prison, I guess, that he wanted me to 'see something.' I guess this is what he meant."

"And who is this Nihlus again?" Persephone asked.

"He said in the arena that he had attacked the Control Center," Sam shrugged. "I guess he took you guys all in as well."

Jetty's mouth nearly dropped as she exchanged a fearful glance with Persephone. Clearly, Nihlus had done something to shock those victors back in the Capitol.

"The big guy with the dark eyes?" Jetty asked, with Sam giving a nod in return. "He…pretty much killed all the staff in the building. We were all locked in the District 4 suite…since you were allies with River, Firth, and all…but we got a pretty good view of it."

"It's a lot more complicated," Sam sighed. "It's like he can be anywhere he wants at any time. He leads the Vox; he serves the President; everything."

Persephone's face turned ashen in response, although Jetty didn't put two and two together: "The Vox?"

"They're…a rebel group," Persephone stuttered.

"What?" Jetty looked at her strangely. "How do you know that?"

"They kept throwing up graffiti around the downtown," the blonde-haired young woman replied. "On all the buildings in District 1. I just assumed they were trying to make trouble, but if they're actually organized…maybe it's more."

"So he's like a puppet-master?" Jetty looked between Sam and Persephone. "Then we're kinda in trouble."

Before Sam could agree, the train shook hard with the sudden application of the brakes. A pleasant female voice came over the intercom, announcing, "An unidentified object of sufficient size has been located ahead on the tracks. Coming to a stop at the Hall of Medicine. Please, enjoy your stay."

Scion motored over to a control panel inside the run-down train car, ejecting a small robotic arm from his carapace and slicing into the system. His lights flickered blue in dismay momentarily: "Oh dear."

"What?" Firth nodded at the drone. "What'd you find? And where's this…Medical Hall, or whatever we're stopping at?"

"The Hall of Medicine is the preeminent hospital in the Lazarus facility," Scion chirped. "Caution. The object on the tracks…is the Pathogen."

"The what?" Firth raised an eyebrow.

"Haste is necessary!" Scion bleated, disconnecting from the control panel and hovering to the train car's doors. "It is of the utmost importance to control this outbreak!"

"Slow down," Firth said. "Can you explain –"

The train car shook to a halt at the station. A strange grunting noise came from outside the vehicle as Jetty and Sam made their way over to the doors, preparing to exit. Sam took a step back at the sound – what now was waiting out there?

"HRRRAAA!"

The doors opened to an obese, dirty man with wild, red eyes, bending over the corpse of an elderly woman. He held a large syringe filled with a soupy olive liquid, and let out a ghoulish cry as soon as he made eye contact with Jetty. He lunged at her before anyone had a chance to react, jabbing the syringe deep into her shoulder.

"Foul creature!" Scion cried, turning his eyes to the attacker and lighting up with a bright blue glow.

The drone unleashed an electrical attack on the man, blasting the wild assaulter with a white-hot shot of lightning. The electric bolt connected just under the man's chin, sending waves of current jolting across his skin. The man quivered while letting out an animal whine, removing the syringe from Jetty as the young woman crawled away from her attacker. Scion poured on his surge of energy, blowing apart the man's neck and sending a blast of charred meat flying out of the train car.

"Jetty!" Persephone screamed, ignoring the smoldering pile of man on the concrete platform outside and hurrying to her friend's side. "Are you okay?"

"He…stuck me with something!" Jetty looked down at the syringe's pock mark in her left shoulder. "What was that?"

"A feral former member of the Brotherhood," Scion sounded unfazed as the drone floated out onto the platform. "It is an increasingly common sight as this facility devolves. You can identify his allegiance via -"

"Clear this up!" Sam pointed angrily towards Jetty as she addressed Scion. "What are these Brotherhood things? Why are they just…why'd that one attack her?"

"I believe I explained," Scion's words added a hint of irritation. "The Brotherhood is a religious order –"

"I know!" Sam flung her hands down in exasperation. "I need context! Are we going to be…fighting more of those things?"

"Assuming you initiate contact with them, certainly," Scion answered as if it were a routine question with an obvious answer. "The Brotherhood effectively controls 70% of the Lazarus facility from their 'Basilica' at the heart of the sprawl. They do not take kindly to outsiders of any type threatening their holdings – most especially ones such as yourselves. Surface-dwellers were not kindly received the last time."

"What last time?"

Scion's lights blipped on and off, as if the drone blinked in amazement. "Why…I had assumed you would have understood that, being from the surface. A group referring to themselves as vaguely 'from the Capitol' ventured here fifty standard years ago. I trust you distinguish the contextual reference?"

Sam gulped. Of course the Capitol had gotten here first – maybe they hadn't learned everything from this place, but what better way to learn how to perfect mutts? To gain the technology and weapons to control the districts? It made too much sense.

And what better way to learn how to make something like Nihlus?

Of course Nihlus wanted her here. This…this was where he had been conceived.

"Sam, we don't have time for all that!" Persephone looked frantic as she huddled over Jetty. For her part, Jetty didn't look particularly bad. "I wanna know what that guy stabbed her with! And we're in this…medical place…"

"The Hall of Medicine," Scion corrected her unnecessarily.

"I don't care!" Persephone shouted back. "Where can we take her?"

"There is a processing ward approximately three hundred meters from this station," Scion quipped. "Although I do not understand –"

"Let's go," Persephone looked agitated.

"Persephone, are you sure that's a real good idea?" Firth raised an eyebrow in suspicion. "Look, she looks okay…"

"I don't feel good," Jetty instantly countered Firth's claim. "Kinda queasy."

"Can you take us there?" Persephone looked back at Scion. "Now?"

"Certainly," Scion chirped. "I would be happy to assist."

River had walked over onto the dirty concrete station pier, hopping over the body the attacker had crouched upon as she examined the syringe he had wielded. The viscous liquid inside seemed to churn to River's inspection – as if something alive seethed in the olive stew. The man had only been able to dump a little of the contents into Jetty's shoulders – plenty more of the mixture remained inside.

"This doesn't look like…anything normal," River speculated. "I think Persephone's right."

"Of course I'm right!" Persephone said. "Let's go."

All the while, Lily had remained aboard the train car – unwilling to go out after the sudden attack of the wild man. She'd curled up in a seat, clutching her knees and shivering slightly. Too much for a twelve year-old girl, Sam thought. Too much for any of us, really. River's only fourteen. Heck, I'm only seventeen. What am I doing here?

Nihlus was right. It really was the 101st Hunger Games down here – yet another frantic fight for survival with the elements ready to kill at a moment's notice. The Gamesmakers had simply been replaced with whatever insane residents of Lazarus remained – whether these "Brotherhood" fanatics Scion spoke of fit the bill or not – and the arena morphed into this last, dying vestige of a long-forgotten time. No simple undersea stroll was this.

"Hey, Lily?" Sam reached over and placed a reassuring hand on her pale arm. "Are you doing okay?"

"No," Lily murmured, her voice barely audible. "No. I thought I could go home after the arena. I want to go home."

"I know," Sam gave her a hug, pushing her own fears away in order to comfort the youngest member of the group, even if just for a moment. "I know, Lily. None of us want to be here…but we have to stick together through it, alright? We can get out of here; just like we got out of the arena together. But I need you to be strong again. Can you do that?"

Lily nodded slowly: "I don't want to be alone here."

"You won't be," Sam patted her arm. "I'll stick with you. Just stay with me, River, Firth, and we'll all be safe."

"Sam?" River spoke from behind her. "This doesn't look right."

"What doesn't?" Sam replied, helping Lily up and out onto the dull, poorly-lit train platform.

"This."

River held up the syringe towards one of the high ceiling lanterns, letting the milky light illuminate the olive contents within.

"I don't think we should take that with us," Sam cautioned. "River, there's junk in there. Who knows what's in that."

"Remember that thing that attacked us in the arena?" River ignored Sam's warning. "The one that killed Regal, the girl from District 1?"

Jeez, how do I forget? Sam thought. The point from Regal marching her towards her intended death – followed quickly by River's well-placed harpoon shot right before the monstrous, horrific mutt had bulldozed the arrogant tribute from District 1 and strewn her body parts across the arena's rainforest – hadn't been an event she would likely forget any time soon. Or ever.

"What about it?"

"Maybe it's just me," River looked back towards where Firth and Persephone were helping Jetty get moving. "But…something about this fluid stuff reminds me of that mutt's color. I don't know if it's the way this is moving, or just how it looks in the light…but I can't get over the feeling. It just screams that it's related…and Scion said the Capitol had been here before. What if…"

Sam didn't need to imagine the consequences there. Had the man stabbed Jetty with mutt-juice? Apart from the horrific visions Sam realized from that, what would that even do?

River's own calm under fire surprised Sam just as much. The girl from District 4 had been paralyzed upon seeing the sea all around her at first – still scared by the Capitol's myriad of torture mechanisms. Yet through that all, she'd managed to put aside her lingering doubts and focus on the here and now – impressive for a girl of her stature, just two weeks after escaping the end of the Hunger Games with her life. No more was she the small, stoic girl approaching her tentatively during the Victory Tour stop in District 4 a year and a half ago: River had done far too much growing up for her age.

"I don't think we can do much about it until we see if Jetty's okay," Sam said. "C'mon, we're gonna fall behind the others."

River followed Sam and Lily away from the platform, towards a dimly-lit hallway of mottled gray and ivory tile that Firth and Persephone escorted their injured friend down. Scion hummed away happily behind them, bobbing in the air like a fishing lure and completely oblivious to the terrified young minds around him.

"Are you holding up alright?" Sam asked River. She kept a firm hand holding onto Lily as the trio walked to catch up. "It feels like it's been forever since the end of the Games, when it's only been a couple weeks."

"Fine," River sniffed. "No, not fine. Sam, I'm from District 4. I grew up around the sea…but the Capitol, when they were asking everyone else questions and interrogating them…they never asked me anything. They always just tied me down to a table when they wanted something from someone else. They'd throw sea water on me, shoot me with electric shocks…I don't get it. Now my heart starts racing when I even just see the ocean, and here we are under it. If I can't handle this, how am I supposed to be okay back home?"

"River," Sam said, almost moved to tears by the girl's pouring out of her heart for her. "Don't try to grow up too fast, okay?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"We're still just kids," Sam replied, gripping Lily tighter as she spoke. "We shouldn't even be here. We should be home, doing things all kids do…playing, talking, having fun. We shouldn't already have gone through the Hunger Games, and now forced…down here, where nobody knows what's going on. Don't try to figure out everything at once. Maybe if we just do what we need to now…things will work themselves out."

River harrumphed in silent agreement, clearly not swayed entirely by Sam's reassurance. She held an unhealthy skepticism of things close to her heart, hewn in from growing up working-class in District 4 and followed up with Gannet's death, serving as a tribute in the Games, and now this. Sam couldn't blame her – what spark of hope would she have come to hold on to?

For that matter, what hope existed under the ocean at all? Perhaps Jetty's attack was only the first misfortune here beneath the waves.