City Circle, The Capitol
Colorful lights flashed erratically. The anthem blared out from enormous speakers. The crowd went wild, cheering with enough force to make the ground shake.
It was amidst all this chaos that the president of Panem made his entrance.
A particularly deafening burst of the anthem managed to silence the crowd temporarily, long enough for the audience to notice the tall, sturdy, and rather imposing man who had taken the stage. The audience leaned forward in anticipation, wondering what ingenious twist would make this year's Quarter Quell especially entertaining, entertaining enough for the President to summon the entire Capitol to the City Circle for a mandatory reading of the card. Perhaps there would be additional tributes? Or maybe the contestants would be chosen by a vote? Anything was possible in this Quell.
The President cleared his throat. "Greetings, citizens of Panem," he rumbled. The crowd let out a thundering roar of welcome in response, a wall of sound that startled even the President. But this was only for a moment. As he regained his composure, the president made a little half smile as he raised his hand, motioning for the crowd to quiet down.
Once most of the crowd had calmed down, the President continued his speech, with his little blurb from the Treaty of Treason and a summary of a Quarter Quell, a glorified version of the Games held every twenty-five years, with a special twist of symbolic significance to the rebellion.
"As most of you know, today is a very special day," the President announced. "It was on this very day, two hundred years ago, that the last rebel forces in the districts laid down their arms and surrendering to the Capitol, thus ending the Dark Days."
"And now, for our eighth Quarter Quell," continued the President. A little boy dressed entirely in white stepped forward, holding out an open wooden box filled with envelopes marked with numbers. The President carefully picked out the envelope marked 200. Delicately opening the yellowed, brittle envelope, the President fished out a slip of paper. "On the two hundredth anniversary," he read, his voice carrying out over the completely silent audience, "as a reminder to the rebels that they chose to incite rebellion twice…there will be two Hunger Games this year. The first round of Games, one held for each District, shall, by 'process of elimination' determine the tributes for the second."
With another mysterious half smile, the President turned around and strode off into the night, leaving the crowd to comprehend the deadly consequences of this new turn of events.