Instead of gathering in homes like most Districts we gathered in the main Square and the Training Centre for the announcement of the Quarter Quell. The Square was packed tight with a restless crowd and inside the Centre the atmosphere was electric. Any time one room held so many students, trainers, Victors and Peacekeepers, there was going to be friction, but combined with the anxiety of the announcement it was not surprising that several scuffles broke out before the screens were even turned on.

Of course they were not the unruly fights that the other districts might have, or the quarry workers outside. Everyone in this room had been trained for killing, in one way or another, so the fights were soundless but vicious. Some of the trainers did their best to break them up and keep the crowd civil but others didn't even bother and watched the violence with disinterested expressions.

When I entered I looked around the room unsure where to place myself. I found myself wishing that Junia were still part of this crowd and that she were here with Aixa, instead of standing in the crowd outside. Still, I couldn't resent her decision to turn her back on it all, not after I as good as killed her child's father. I spied Domitius standing with some of the other trainers, his arms crossed and his expression thunderous as he glowered out at the crowd. Before he could spot me I slipped around the side of the room and found myself literally crashing into Dayna. She turned and snarled at me before recognising me and backing down a little.

"I'm sharing your corner," I commanded, looking around and deciding that the relatively hidden place was as good as any. And of all the people filling this room Dayna was one of the ones I could stand. I saved her life, she tended to owe me a little respect. She shrugged sulkily, still looking very much like a teenager and shuffled over slightly. Sometimes being small had its advantages because in the room filled with loud, rough, over confidant and highly trained killers, Dayna and I were relatively invisible.

The room settled into charged silence as the huge screens used for showing the Games flickered into life and every eye turned towards them. We caught the end of the cursed Fire Girl from District 12 in her stupid wedding dresses and there was a general mutter of disgust around the room. My own snarl of anger at the sight of her was lost among the noise.

As if it were still instinctive, I wiped any sign of emotion from my face as President Snow appeared on the screen, before I could remind myself that he had nothing to hold over me anymore. Hiding my true hatred of this man had become second nature for me. He walked up behind an engraved podium and began to speak, talking directly to the camera so that it felt as if he was speaking to every citizen of Panem individually, as if he could see us, judge us, even from the distance of the Capitol.

Firmly reminding myself that he had no control over me anymorem I refused to be intimidated by it, and stared him in the eye as he began to speak, as if I were staring down the man himself. It is the same speech that precedes the reaping every year, the passionate story of the Dark Days and the War and the price we now all have to pay. At that I had to look away. As if we didn't know the price we had to pay. I couldn't go a day without remembering the price I had had to pay.

This year's speech deviated at the purpose for the Hunger Games, and he began to talk about the significance of the Quarter Quell. Few in the room have a living memory of the previous Quell. My mother would have been one of them, she won the year before the 50th Games.

I found myself wondering how Domitius felt. He mentored during the last Quarter Quell, twice as many tributes as before. Was he waiting with a sick anticipation to see what horror they'd give us this time?

"And now we honour the third Quarter Quell," Snow announced and I snapped my attention away from Domitius and back to the President. He ran his fingers over rows of yellowed envelopes inside the box which a pretty boy dressed in white held out to him. He selected the 75th one and slowly opened it, drawing out the moment. I could imagine the Capitol audiences, waiting, breathless with excitement to hear the special twist for their entertainment this year. I could also imagine all across the districts people huddled together, also breathless but far from excited. Distantly I felt Dayna give a little shudder next to me but if felt very far away as I focused on the President's face. The entire room seemed to disappear around me as I watched him, waiting. Was it just my imagination or was there a small smile playing about his lips?

"On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol," he read in a loud clear voice. I could hear the faintest note of delight in his voice. It wouldn't be observable to most I didn't think, but it was there, a chink of his true emotion slipping through. It did not fill me with confidence. Whatever made this evil man happy would make us very miserable indeed. He continued without drawing breath. "The male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

He lowered the paper and looked straight back into the camera and I felt, as I'm sure every Victor across Panem felt in that very moment, that he was looking directly at me, taunting us with the illusion of our freedom.

A hush fell over the whole crowd around me but I didn't notice it. My mind was racing, turning over this new information. I was not as shocked as I once would have been. Perhaps the shell of ambivalence I had built up over the last year was finally serving a purpose, deflecting any thoughts that could make me worried, or angry, or worst of all scared. Instead I was processing the information the only way I knew how. I was looking for the potential advantages and disadvantages, using the most vital skill of District 2 training of weighing up every situation and categorising everything as threat, prey or ally. That skill had got me through one Arena already.

I was coming up with only one thought, one advantage that was overpowering everything else.

I could kill Fire Girl.

I had to be in that Quarter Quell and I had to kill her. I didn't even contemplate what it would mean going into the Arena again because honestly I no longer cared if I won the Games, just so long as I took her down before I died. There was no one else on this earth that I hated more than her. Except President Snow. Definitely President Snow, but I couldn't kill him. I could kill Fire Girl and then the Capitol would have an end to its pathetic little love affair. That fake love affair that had cost my sister her life.

Clove had tried to kill her, tried to decorate that plain face of hers with crimson lines. I would finish what she had been unable to do and it would be the first step to revenge.

I would make the whole Capitol watch while I doused their Girl on Fire.

The absolute conviction of the thought brought clarity back to my mind and as if all my senses had suddenly been turned back on I became aware of the room around me. It was now painfully obvious where the Victors stood. Small circles had formed around us as people stepped back, looking towards us to see our reactions. Dayna and I were no longer invisible, instead we had half the room looking towards us, the two youngest female Victors. They all knew the volunteer would no doubt be one of us.

Priscus, reliable old Priscus who had been the head trainer when I first came here over 12 years ago, stepped up in front of the crowds, clearly trying to decide how to react to this information.

There was no need for him to call our attention as the room was deadly silent and as he moved every person turned to look at him. He cleared his throat.

"The information of this Quarter Quell will, of course, alter existing training plans for this year," he called out and despite the circumstances I couldn't help but roll my eyes at the typical pragmatism of District 2. He kept talking, obviously making it up as he went, and I tuned out, turning to Dayna.

"You volunteer and I'll rip your throat open!" I hissed viciously at her, leaning up close to her face so no one else could hear me. She looked momentarily startled but quickly hid it, drawing herself up in a way that I remembered from her Games, till she was looking me in the eye. We glared furiously at each other for several long moments, like two animals trying to decide who was the alpha of the pack. I knew I would win. She did not have the same desire I did to enter these Games and, her own Victor status aside, she was intimidated by me. Eventually she ducked her eyes for a second and gave a quick nod. It was all I needed.

Smiling grimly I turned back to Priscus. He was still talking about the alterations to the training schedule. I didn't spare a thought for the eighteen year olds this year who would lose their only chance at competing.

My eyes scanned the room for my next target and I found him, leaning against the wall almost opposite me and already ready to meet my eyes. Brutus looked as he always did, slightly dishevelled and completely anti-social, but I knew under that he was still ruthless and deadly, just as he had been when he won two decades ago.

We'd never been particularly close, not as some mentors became after years of sharing the post, but in that moment we were able to communicate silently in seconds. He raised his eyebrows at me and I gave a small nod, answering him. He returned it and the decision was made. At the same time we both pushed away from the shelter of our walls and began to shove our way through the crowd.

Normally people would have shouted in anger, reached out, sworn as we pushed them roughly out of our way but now they just stepped back silently and watched us go. I made easy progress through the crowd until I felt someone grab at my elbow, halting my with an iron grip that I knew well by now.

"Let go of me," I said in a quiet hiss without properly looking at him. Whatever Junia had told me, my anger had not faded completely, and I could not forget how much I blamed him for Clove's death. Who did he think he was to decide what I could and could not do now?

"Don't do this." His voice made me pause, but only for a fraction of a second, as I stumbled over the completely foreign pleading tone. I met his eyes coldly and then pulled myself from his grip, shoving him backwards harshly as I turned and kept walking.

Long before we reached the front, I knew every single person was looking at us and by the time we stood before him Priscus had stopped talking and was looking down at us with a resigned expression.

"I will volunteer for male tribute," Brutus said as soon as he'd come to a halt, standing next to me but easily a head and shoulders taller than me. He glowered up at Priscus as if he dared him to defy his declaration.

"I will volunteer for female tribute," I said before anyone could have the chance to speak, crossing my arms over my chest and matching Brutus' glare. Priscus' eyes flickered sideways but he would not deny us.

There was only one rustle of movement from behind us and I knew who it would be without turning around. Brutus did, and he glared viciously over his shoulder at Domitius. I kept my eyes forward, refusing to look at him, and so whatever silent communication occurred between the two men I did not see. But when Brutus turned back to face the front Priscus nodded and looked over our heads.

"We have our volunteers for the 75th Hunger Games!" he called to the silent room. "Brutus Castillo and Enobaria Reyes!" There begun a low rumble of applause and at that I did turn around, not out of arrogance but out of pure surprise. It was a sound not often heard in District 2 and as the room slowly filled with a rhythmic, solemn applause I realised it was a sign of respect. Students, trainers, peacekeepers and Victors stared back at me, eyes honestly reverent as they solemnly applauded in Snow's own words "our bravery and our sacrifice".

A/N: Thanks for the reviews all! The hatred towards Katniss makes me giggle. I'd love to know if people hated Katniss before they read my story or if they have changed their minds because of Enobaria's malice.

- Lu