Thanks for all the input on the last chapter^^. You are awesome. Don't forget to share any ideas for future scenes you might want to see.
Reminders:
In this story, the Hunger Games didn't become 'live' until later Games. In Games one to eight (this is the 9th Games in case someone forgot), there was a long (20-40 min) recap every evening of the Games with a five minute update every morning and every day at 1 pm and then a final recap (2 hours long) after the victor had won. Everything was compulsory watching.
After all, there were no sponsors, so a live feed was useless, except for rebellious comments getting through. Even in the later Games, I think the Capitol makes sure to focus their cameras on tributes who aren't being rebellious or talking about their home district and just have a different feed for mentors to enable them to follow their tributes at all times and who cares if the mentors hear the tribute's rebellious words?)
Even now, sponsors are rare, and it'll take years (and a highly favored tribute to die from poison between two recaps) before the Capitol asks for a live recap.
Alright, that's enough backstory for today. ;D
This chapter is from Cereus' point of view. The flashback Constantine had involving him was in chapter 4.
Cereus Sphene lived his life by one single rule: have no regrets.
He wasn't a thrill seeker, instead he wanted to be able to look back and say 'I did the best I could'. He'd learned it at nine, the haunting power of regrets.
A boy had one day come to Cereus' street. The Dark Days had just ended, and lots of people were in the streets, but that boy was different. He came every day but he didn't beg. He just sat there in the sunlight, where he could see the bustling marketplace below. Cereus itched to talk to him but the boy was older -maybe twelve- and obviously richer, with a fat golden family ring, velvet trousers and solid leather shoes. It wasn't Cereus' place to make the first move. So curious it physically ached, Cereus imagined a thousand conversations with the boy in his head, but he knew that if a rich person didn't ask first it meant they didn't want to be bothered. Bothering rich people was a very dangerous thing to do.
The boy in the street never failed to shyly smile at Cereus and Cereus returned the greetings, always slowing but never stopping, never voicing the questions that he was bursting to ask. He waited for the boy to introduce himself first, but the boy never did. He just stayed there, seated and watching the market, day after day for over a month. He slowly grew thinner and his pricey clothes were clean but always the same -which was weird for a rich boy- until, one day, he never came back.
Cereus had been hurrying home as usual, feeling the familiar rush of excitement and frustration at the thought of seeing that odd boy. Maybe today he'd actually talk to him.
The empty street had filled the nine year old with a greater fear than he'd ever experienced.
Crying tears he could neither explain nor stop, Cereus rushed through the whole city, a sense of terrible loss clawing at his inside.
He has light brown hair to his shoulders, blue eyes shaped like fat almonds, small lips, taller than me, Ma'am, but he's skinny in his clothes, very pricey blue clothes.
I think he's about twelve years old, Sir, he's got a golden ring. No, I don't know what's on the ring. No, I don't know his name. I'm sorry, but please help me find him!
Some people were helpful, even if they had little to go on, others just eyed Cereus suspiciously when he mentioned the ring. Stay out of people's business, Son, especially if they're wealthy. That rule had suddenly stopped mattering to Cereus. There were less than thirty families in which people wore the golden rings. It was just a matter of checking them all. Cereus had tea with some nice rich ladies as he asked around, and got some doors slammed in his face by servants, but he couldn't find anything.
Seraphim –for that was the boy's name- had been the direct heir to the Equinox line. His parents had died in a way that had cast doubt on their allegiances and his eldest cousin, another war orphan, had decided the inheritance was his by right, since his parents had been loyal and Seraphim was now his to raise. Seraphim had been locked out until dusk and allowed a single meal a day until he had signed the consent form decreeing his cousin heir. The legitimate Equinox heir lost weight and spent his days outside, waiting for dusk, but refused to give in. His cousin finally lost patience.
But Cereus didn't learn that until years later, from a resigned-sounding Selene Aquila.
Now a young adult, Cereus was still gnawed by guilt at the thought he'd failed to recognize the boy's cry for help. Cereus could have saved Seraphim's life had he looked beyond the rich clothes and seen the truth about a child abandoned after a terrible war. At the very least, Cereus should have told his parents, but at the time, the idea of the boy being severely punished for skipping so much school had kept him quiet. What an idiot he'd been.
Nine-year-old Cereus had skipped three days of school in his searches, breaking every rule his parents had ever set about going out on his own and talking to strangers. They would have been beside themselves with anger and worry had they found out. But they didn't until much later, when any punishment would have been meaningless, thanks to Constantine Aquila.
Back then, Cereus knew Constantine as one of the rich kids, a quiet one who barely even talked to the other rich kids. His partner for Stones and Jewelry Estimation class, Obsidian, vowed at least once a day that she'd marry Constantine, for he was so pretty and didn't tease people like many of the other rich kids. Cereus found Constantine very scary, because at least teasing he understood. Constantine paid attention to get good marks even if he was already rich and always looked bored by everything others did. He didn't make any sense.
Cereus could therefore not have been more astonished when, despaired to have no note from his parents to give the stern teacher to explain his absence, he heard Constantine tell the man that his mother had needed Cereus' help with an investigation. When someone tried asking questions, Constantine gave his rich-boy shut up stare. It's classified, he'd said.
And because he was the son of one of the three colonels of District One, even the teacher didn't insist.
The day before, a nice lady, Coraline, had opened the door to the Aquila mansion after Cereus had knocked. She'd even given him cookies. Selene Aquila had listened to his description and then gone to check the database on her computer. She'd then said that there was no missing boy that age among the rich families. She'd had that peacekeeper look, the one that said no questions! even louder than the dark rich-boy look Constantine did so well.
Under the teacher's suspicious scrutiny, Cereus fidgeted so badly he almost blushed. Constantine had helped him out of a very tight spot, but he wasn't even an acquaintance. Rich people had to speak to you first.
Cereus took pride in never making the same mistake twice.
He therefore went to see Constantine during break and introduced himself properly. Constantine gave him a weird half-smile and crossed his arms. "I can't believe you went on an adventure. My parents would have killed me had I tried. Your parents might still kill you but you did it without fear," he said, his voice tinged with envy and awe.
Cereus opened his mouth to say his parents would never literally kill him and that it had never been about adventure, but then Constantine asked him if he wanted a piece of his blueberry muffin.
Distracted, the nine year old grinned and took the muffin. He couldn't remember what blueberry tasted like. Fruit had become insanely expensive during the Dark Days, and even now, blueberries were for the very wealthy. Cereus couldn't believe he'd just become Constantine Aquila's friend.
Indeed, he hadn't. It took Cereus four years to be able to safely say that Constantine was his friend and no one else gave him so many headaches or made him so mad. Constantine was unfeeling, unreasonable, stubborn, unimpressed and prejudiced, but he was also sophisticated, honest, brave, loyal and incredibly generous when he cared about someone. Constantine let nothing stop him if he believed in a cause.
And that idiot had volunteered.
Cereus seethed as some specialist began to analyze the prices of fur on the TV screen. No sign of the tributes. The interviews had been yesterday and Constantine had been his usual I'm me, worship me public self. Today they were supposed to enter the arena, why were they receiving no information? It was nine PM. How long did cutting and editing take? Never before had the Capitol failed to air a short recap on every game day before the final endgame recap. Had something gone wrong? Cereus was so tense he couldn't touch his dinner.
It was ten PM when President Achlys appeared on screen. Cereus blinked, feverishly wondering what was so important for the President herself to deliver the message. He sat on his hands to stop his embarrassing shaking.
"The first broadcasts will be delayed, maybe to tomorrow, maybe for ten days. These Games are very special. We have decided to give the tributes a chance to contribute to the greatness of Panem. None of them will die in vain."
Now that's an improvement over last years', Cereus thought, his sarcasm rooted in anguish. Where was Constantine? Why the secrecy? Couldn't they at least know who was alive? An eight in training was great for showing off, but hardly a guarantee of success.
He had to move. "Dad, may I go visit the Aquilas?"
"With no formal invitation..."
"You want them to admit they're worried and need emotional support? That'll never happen. I'm going, Dad. Even if Selene or Roy don't want to hear it, Coraline will be thrilled to see me."
Constantine's governess was great, so bubbly, spirited and affectionate, Cereus figured she wouldn't mind at all if they both freaked out over the Games, on the contrary. He'd rather see Coraline panic than making his own mother cry at seeing him so upset. Ten days of waiting? Cereus wouldn't survive it.
Yes, he would, but Constantine… Cereus had to find a way to get him sponsors. If Vicuña had gotten some, surely it was just a matter of having the right connections.
"Very well, run off," Saffron Sphene said after a pause, "don't do anything stupid, Cereus."
Usually the latter was said with a smile, but today the mustached man was serious, worry creasing his face as he clasped his son's shoulder. Cereus briefly embraced his father and forced a small smile, trying to behave like a man instead of a mewling distraught kitten.
"I'll go straight to the Aquilas and then straight home before one AM, Dad, I promise."
Why had Constantine volunteered? Cereus knew he hadn't planned to. What had gone through his mind during the reapings?
Cereus had survived the week and was nervously undoing the seam of his sleeves, with a shivering Coraline almost in his lap. Constantine's parents were so tense that they didn't even pretend to make a case of the servant sharing the living room couch. Constantine's mysterious reason for volunteering was the elephant in the room. Cereus hated him for having been so selfish.
At precisely nine PM, the Capitol crest appeared on screen. Cereus was afraid his heart would burst from stress.
The editing was plain confusing. The cameras were planted in the tributes' eyes, making the picture itself awkward.
Cereus didn't want the commentary. He wanted to hear what the tributes said for himself, not some loose and convenient interpretation of what lips-reading softwares had revealed.
The Capitol had erased the tributes' recent memories (erased their memories! Had they no boundaries?) and had planned to take them somewhere undisclosed but two of the tributes sabotaged the train and paid for it with their lives.
Cereus winced at the mania in Mirabelle's eyes and at the callousness of the boy from Two. Never had there been so many dead so quickly. Cereus raised a fist to his mouth, both ill and somewhat relieved. The less competition, the shorter the Games, the quicker he could hope to see his best friend again. Cereus barely caught a glimpse of Constantine. Just enough to see that his best friend had picked his allies wrong: the unpredictable short girl who had stolen the show during the interviews and the quietest of the volunteers. A skilled actor and someone with both a purpose and solid training... Of course Constantine would pick interesting over safe.
Cereus desperately hoped he would not fall for the girl from Four, she was pretty enough and evidently a fighter, and Constantine was even more of an idiot when he had a crush.
The first recap ended with the hovercraft picking up the three surviving 'Careers' as they left the burning Scavenger den behind. A screenshot of the dead boy from Five had made Cereus wipe his eyes in hopeless confusion. What had happened between the moment Rapid had woken up near the train wreck with a mark on his arm and his death remained unclear. Had he drunk bad water like Gyan from Three?
Cereus was too anxious for Constantine's sequences to spare more than token compassion for the other dead. Just like for the beastly Scavenger attack on the tributes camping near the train, he averted his eyes when Mirabelle stuck a blade through a wailing child, gleefully burning the Scavenger's slums as she screamed about avenging Jason, until Styx and Will, horror etched in their features, put an end to her killing spree. He had only looked again when the commentator announced Mirabelle's death at her former allies' hands.
He was inordinately relieved that Selene counted as a peacekeeper presence and that he did not have to go watch the Games in a public room. There, he would have been punished for averting his eyes.
Cereus took a sharp breath at the end of the recap. He mustered his courage and turned to Constantine's stony-faced parents. "Can we please watch the sequences with Constantine a second time, without sound? I want to really look at him."
"Those poor children were eaten," Coraline stammered, her fingers digging in Cereus' arm. "My little prince is about to go there, to kill these people. Why do they make him do this?"
"The editing is clever," Selene said, her voice colder than winter's nights, "what happened to our son during those two days in the Citadel? Nothing was shown except the vile jar. The rebels will be portrayed as monstrous whatever the truth is."
"Selene, be careful..."
"This conversation will not leave the house, Roy. I have no affection for those underground lurkers. I simply agree that we should watch Constantine without the distracting commentary."
The worst was that the last scene including Constantine had been Fife stopping him from climbing into the smoke filled sewer level, which had happened, according to the camera, the day before at four PM. They didn't even know if Constantine was still alive right now.
Twenty-four hours was too little time to get sponsors, but Cereus and Selene managed to find the escort's lover, a shrewd middle-aged beauty who oversaw the sales of a big gem-cutting factory. It wasn't too hard to see what kind of information she could give and what she wanted in exchange. She gave them some useful contacts and the updated list of the living.
Constantine was alive. Cereus laughed, made light-headed from relief.
The second recap was confusing again, full of holes and discrepancies, but only if one watched carefully and without sound. Cereus knew the great majority of people would soak up the Capitol's words. They lacked the will, or the wish, to force themselves to watch the horror more carefully than they had to.
What Cereus saw was how close Constantine walked to Fife, how he let her lie to Atli and smiled at her, amused and admiring. He saw how Mags bravely stepped before Chase's gun, and how Constantine deferred to the girl from Four. Cereus forgot the rebels and watched his best friend. He saw Mags and Fife argue with him about how dangerous the Citadel rebels were and how Constantine paid attention to their opinions. He saw two girls whom Constantine respected and when he saw Constantine's fury when the rebel widow spoke of burial and when Cereus saw the last look Constantine gave Teal, Cereus wept, recognizing it all too well.
Teal and the bald rebel Lieutenant Sylvan were portrayed as tragic victims. Cereus let loose a litany of whispered curses when Constantine comforted the widow, hating the Capitol for broadcasting the private moment to all of Panem. Teal was portrayed as an innocent woman who would die because cruel men had brainwashed her. Cereus counted the commentator saying she'd been only fifteen when the rebellion had started six bloody times. He heard Selene growl as they went on about how the well-bred peacekeeper son was being gallant to the poor misguided rebel. She could well see that her son was smitten, and that a broken heart was inevitable, even if he won.
And knowing Constantine's priorities, Cereus couldn't even be certain he would try so hard anymore.
Robin fom Seven died trying to escape the Capitol. She'd killed her avox to slip away and wounded a peacekeeper, or so they were told. She was executed.
Cereus clenched his shaking hands as he saw how Atli used her district partner as bait to crash a hovercraft. At least the vile man was dead.
Meaningful deaths. Right.
The group of renegade cannibals that Styx and Delphin encountered when they came back to the ruins told the cameras all about Atli and how he had forced them to live in filth and told them that the Capitol would flay them alive and use the bones of their children to make mutts if they tried to leave. Atli apparently also had threatened to take away their children if they dared teach them that the outside world wasn't Hell itself. They had bowed and scraped, saying how grateful they were to the Capitol for giving them a chance at redeeming themselves.
Cereus wondered how much was true and how much was what those pitiful rebels had been ordered to say in exchange for their lives. He lost what little remaining color he had when he saw how horribly those people treated their children, this time wishing there had been no sound. Coraline, already sick with dread and exhausted from lack of sleep, fainted when she saw the abuse through Constantine's eyes.
When those monsters ended fighting with other Scavengers, Cereus wiped his eyes in consternation.
What? Were these more renegades? Cereus found it as terribly confusing as it was horrible. There was no denying that those rebels were twisted but he craved a clearer explanation.
Constantine and Mags threw their grenades and spared them the sight of more child-murder and gore.
As he watched the flames fill the screen, Cereus suddenly felt very close to the curled up Fife. He was seated on a comfortable couch and yet yearned to flee the madness.
The recap continued without so much as a pause and the commentator slowly changed his take on Mags. First she'd been a naive terrorist sympathizer (of course it wasn't her fault, it was the bad rebel influence) but now, attention was brought on her change in attitude, how seeing the truth had opened the bright girl's eyes and how her caring fighter soul was starting to see the light.
Selene had actually laughed at that.
Cereus had smiled once, when he saw that Constantine and his allies had taken to wear scarves and masks. The commentator sounded annoyed. Ha. Cereus was glad they had their memories back and weren't oblivious to the Capitol's plan, but it was little comfort; for it was now plain Constantine would never kill the two girls.
Cereus sighed, affection and pain warring inside him. He was glad Constantine wouldn't kill them, he loved his friend for his staunch loyalty, but in the Games, it would not serve him.
Selene abruptly stood up. "I need to summon Valerian. Now those obscure orders makes sense. He'll bring my son back."
What orders? Peacekeepers would be involved? Cereus' hand tightened painfully over the armrest. The Capitol had little concern over district casualties.
When Cereus' eyes fell on Fife, winking at Constantine behind Keane's back and Constantine winking back, Cereus realized just how much he hated the Capitol.
It was ten PM. The closing scene, Delphin and Styx saying goodbye to the renegade Scavengers, had happened on the same day at six. It seemed that even those two didn't want to kill each other, although Styx was probably right not to feel threatened. Delphin was edgy and breaking down, like any regular person would.
Cereus resigned himself to spend another sleepless night.
Cereus was half awake when an explosion tore through the skies. That's it, the world is ending, he groggily thought as he jumped down from his bed out of instinct. Not even the Dark Days had birthed anything so loud.
He then blinked, his mind clearing and dread filling his limbs. He rushed to the window.
Where the Capitol could be glimpsed on the days the air was pure and the sky clear, a column of fire erupted in the night, rattling windows and filling the skies with huge clouds of pungent smoke.
An explosion, in the Capitol? Were they being bombed? Were the Dark Days upon them once again?
Frantic, Cereus hastily dressed and sprinted to the Aquilas'. He arrived as the grandfather's clock struck five AM, drenched in sweat. The couple was already sitting with a disheveled Coraline in front of the TV. The Capitol crest flashed on the screen.
"They'll replay it at eight AM," Roy Aquila said in way of greeting, "I suspect this is the last video of these accursed Games."
Cereus shivered, terrified of what the recordings would show. He shook himself. He had to have faith in Constantine!
It began with the Capitol contacting the rebels through one of their bird-robots. "We are aware of your plan involving explosives. We are evacuating the area at this very moment and the force-fields are almost raised. If you detonate now, you will kill a hundred avoxes for every remaining Capitol citizen and the districts will struggle to pay for the repairs. The Capitol will treat you fairly if you surrender now and leave the bunker."
Cereus' blood ran cold, for he already knew the answer the rebels would give.
"Anyone who lives in the Capitol deserves to die. We are merciful by making it painless," a voice covered in static replied.
"Can't avoxes run as fast as anyone?" Coraline muttered, tears in her eyes. "Why are they still so many in the zone?"
Cereus' face darkened. Indeed. He suddenly suspected the worst type was of foul play.
Keane's death was the next image to flash on screen. The rebels had shot him.
Cereus gaped in shock. Why? Why were the rebels so agitated? Even with the 'plan' it made no sense.
Cereus kept staring, still all too painfully aware of Coraline's previous words. The voice could be a fabrication, but the explosion and dreadful images of avox corpses were disgustingly real. Those poor people; life had been the last thing they'd had. Cereus felt a pang of compassion for the Capitol citizen who had had less than a couple of hours to evacuate and now lost all their worldly possessions.
The audience saw Mags promise her two allies that they would find a way out of the cell, and soon a friend of Teal's breaking them out and saying they'd disobeyed Wickers because they had realized he was mad. They learned Chickaree was Teal's aunt, and the woman, formerly a horrid rebel, suddenly joined the ranks of tragically brainwashed. Nevertheless a trial for Chickaree was in order because the law had to apply and people were responsible for their actions.
Cereus' head ached at the double standards and incoherence, but he had no time to think, for the commentator quickly moved on to when two distinct groups of peacekeepers escorted the tributes out.
The next scene was higher in the sewers and the rebels were all gone. Valerian Fletcher was there, he'd found Constantine. A ghost of a smile graced Cereus' lips. The tension in the room dropped a little, but only a little, because it was obvious Constantine would not make any move to kill his two allies.
Lila was shown to be dangerous and unhinged -which apparently was no surprise as she was from Eleven- and it had been clear she had been ruthless from the moment she had sent the Scavengers to eat the other tributes, but her whole 'kill me so the Capitol can't use me' routine had actually impressed Cereus. He refused to base his opinion of anyone on the commentator's words. Those words had Wickers as the true bad guy of the tale. After all, if Mags herself, a kind girl so willing to give people a chance, had shot Wickers, he had to be Evil incarnate. Cereus could almost hear a pesky voice whispering Perverting honest citizens since 2355 in his ear. Nothing could be that black and white.
"Why don't they have real weapons, Mistress?" Coraline whispered as the barely armored peacekeepers charged the rebels who'd surfaced.
"Because the Capitol is merciful and forgiving," Selene said in dead tones, soon echoed by the lively –and now quite outraged- commentator who screamed about the rebels being uncivilized butchers.
What were those people supposed to do, throw away their guns and take knives out against Tasers and tranquilizers? Was the truth so terrifying that the Capitol had to take every watcher in Panem for idiots?
Cereus' ground his teeth so hard he tasted blood. Too many of the peacekeeper casualties were familiar.
The commentator announced Sylvan Grey's death, tragically shot by another rebel with bad aim, but there was no picture.
So many dead on both sides... Cereus wanted to break something. How did all this make the world a better place? The rebels were almost all captured, some shot themselves as their masks failed to protect them against the soporifics, others were lugged on hovercrafts.
The Capitol had won.
Then there were three, and Constantine took the tranquilizer gun. Cereus stopped breathing. Constantine's sense of honor would not allow him to kill Fife and Mags, Valerian had to do it. Valerian didn't. Constantine grabbed Fife and started running.
Cereus was in an altered state, his brain unable to process what the screen showed as his best friend took control of a hovercraft. How had Fife gotten her hands on a real gun? What was Constantine doing? Cereus' eyes were as wide as dinner plates as the two shoot down three other crafts. His heart stopped when Achlys ordered their deaths and was too stunned to scream when Constantine willingly crashed against the mountain.
Coraline fell to her knees on the floor. Her strangled scream was like a knife to Cereus' chest. This couldn't be happening. It was all a bad dream.
The commentator's wild announcement grated on his ears like an off-key violin. "Mags Abalone from District Four, victor of the Ninth Hunger Games!"
Selene turned the television off. What little softness there had been in her face seemed to have disappeared with her son's death.
It was real. Constantine was gone.
Cereus felt empty. Plans for the future dissolved before his very eyes as he contemplated a life without his best friend. The gaping hole in his chest sucked the light out of the room, dulling his perceptions. Nothing, there was nothing left.
"I want that hovercraft's black-box records," Selene said, her voice shaking with grief and rage. "I will know what my son said to that girl! Don't let Fletcher near me for at least a week. I might regret killing him later."
Cereus was still too numb to wonder who she was giving that order to. Rooted in the sofa, he just knew one thing: Constantine had turned on the Capitol. He had died for Mags. Why?
Cereus would meet that girl.
"Why did he volunteer, Cereus?" Roy Aquila said, pale and drawn like a man on his death bed.
"I don't know, Sir." Cereus whispered, feeling tears fill his eyes. He blinked furiously, hating to cry. I just don't know.
Obtaining the true records of all of Constantine's conversations after two months of pulled strings and exchanged favors had felt like a great victory, but now Cereus wished they had never found out. Roy Aquila, proud, charismatic and elegant, had always seemed indestructible despite his seventy-seven years. He didn't make it through the fall; ravaged by guilt at the belief he had murdered his own son.
You felt that caged? Cereus had been torn between hitting his head against the wall and cursing with rage.
Selene endured, but Cereus was worried, for he had never seen the distant woman both so unyielding and yet so… fiery. She spoke more and more bluntly, she raised her voice and let her hair grow, she caused scenes and fired mediocre or corrupt officers in such a public way that she made the papers twice a week. Colonel Aquila's crusade, they called it. Three months and two avoided assassination attempts later, Selene resigned from her position and asked to be given a Captain's responsibilities in another District. She moved to District Ten, sending Cereus weekly missives about how surprisingly fun horse-riding was and about the incompetence of local peacekeepers.
Coraline was given a tenth of the Aquila fortune after Roy's death and could have bought a large house of her own, but she seemed unprepared to give up her life as a governess so soon. She was hired by Valerian for his young children and slowly recovered her easy smile, but she always wore black and her blonde hair grew streaked with white.
Cereus clenched his jaw in bitter disappointment. Mags Abalone had been too well guarded. He hadn't gotten close, let alone talked to her privately. Valerian had been able to give her the unedited version of Constantine's conversation with Fife, but allowing Cereus close to Mags would have been worth more than his job. Valerian had been part of the victor's guard because Mags had demanded it.
The victor had delivered a short but striking speech about accepting the truth and making compromises in order to offer your children a better world. Even Vicuña had not made speeches during her tour. Cereus remembered Selene's laugh and wondered where Mags' true loyalties lay.
Clad in a simple blue dress, the comely young woman had a rare intensity for someone who had gone through so much. Cereus had not been able to take his eyes off her face, wondering if she too still missed Constantine. It seemed that his life had been put on hold ever since he had lost his best friend.
As he watched the train leave, Cereus knew he would obsess over Mags until he talked to her.
A chuckle escaped his lips. He'd had an insane idea.
Valerian's face was priceless when Cereus announced that he wanted to join the peacekeepers, but Cereus was certain.
No regrets.
It might take him years, but he would go to District Four.
Author's note.
Moral of the story, don't volunteer. And yes, I remain aware that Mags volunteered and won. But she would never have won on her own.
In case you missed it. Cresyl is completely absent from the recaps (he wasn't in the room when Chickaree showed the trio the head), so both the bits with the Capitol contact and the carbon monoxide part were never revealed. That's why Cereus wonders where Fife's gun comes from.
Also, Keane's friend, Rapid's death was blamed on the environment and many conversations are cut out or heavily edited. The recaps are probably a bit confusing, but the idea is to show that the Capitol bombarded the viewers with rapid propaganda commentary and images to show them the rebels were at best brainwashed and at worst horrible monsters.
For the record:
Recap 1: chapters 2 to chapter 7 (from the train crash -labeled Day 0- to day 5, 4pm). Aired on day 6 at 9pm
Recap 2: chapters 8 to 18 (Day 5, 4pm, to Day 7, 6pm, so excluding the part with the Capitol contact and Cresyl). Aired on day 7 at 9pm.
Recap 3: chapters 20 (starting with Keane's death) to 23. Night 7: approx. 2.30 am to end. Aired on night 7 at 5 am (semi-live version) and 8 am.
The recaps are one hour long except for the last one which is about 30 minutes long.
Please review^^.