AN: Oh boy this chapter took a while. Hello people who still remember this fic! I'm going to try to get more regular about this, but it's hard to say what will happen with my writing. Still, I love this story and I will finish it. So thank you for your patience. Hope you enjoy!

Lustre Audimar-Miucca, District One, Pisces

Lustre was sulking. He did a pretty good job of hiding it. As he walked through the strange twisting tunnels of exploratory, his gait was confident and he smiled amiably at anyone he came across. This was a surprisingly large number of people. The tunnels seemed to bend and twist in bizarre ways that Lustre couldn't quite keep track of. He was reasonably certain they were moving. As such, he often saw fellow tributes at cross sections or going the opposite direction as himself. Lustre couldn't fight off the feeling of being herded, even as he gave the people passing him a cheerful wave.

However, he would be a poor manipulator if he didn't understand his own emotions. Not only was he sulking, he was dangerously close to stabbing someone. Preferably whoever developed the concept of this whole Exploratory business. It was the second day of training, late afternoon, and the tunnels were open for the second time. Yet Lustre still had no idea what the point of the stations even were. The day beforehand, he remembered wandering into a fully stocked art studio where the strange one-eyed boy from Ten painted a grisly picture of some shadowy horse-like creature. What use would that be in the Games? Did the boy believe he could defeat twenty-three other tributes with the power of watercolors? He didn't stay in that room long, partially because he could feel the irritation interfering with his friendly mask and partly because the adult who was supervising the room was staring at him in a way that made him feel judged.

The other rooms he visited were similar: Large, open areas with a lot to do and little to no practical application. There were usually two or three tributes there as well and there was always a supervisor. Strange how the Capitol thought it was important for people to watch them in these rooms but not the areas with actual weaponry. The entire situation caused rage to build inside him.

There was also the matter that even repeatedly bumping into other tributes, he'd still been unable to secure any additional members for his alliance. Both of the Threes seemed interested in creating their own separate alliances, not that Lustre particularly minded since he considered them far weaker tributes than their counterparts from last year. Especially the girl, who he ended up chasing through three different rooms before finishing a relatively short conversation with her. While the Four boy was promising, he was also obstinate and refused to see Lustre as a leader. Even his sign partner, Woodrow, denied him and instead joined the Two alliance. Did they have no loyalty?

Luckily the two allies he did have were solid. They would serve him quite well in the Games. Lustre was hesitant to admit how much he was beginning to rely on Carnation, even after only two days of training. She knew more about survival than either of the Ones, something he was beginning to suspect he'd need, with all of the Careers creating separate alliances. More importantly, however, she had a fighting spirit and a sharp wit that Lustre found surprising coming from a lower district citizen. Perhaps two close allies was better than five or six acquaintances.

This particular thought didn't stop him from continuing to sulk. Especially as he sniffed the air, and smelled the distinct burn of chlorine assaulting his senses. His stomach turned a bit. Not a pool, anything but a pool, he thought. He reasoned that he was probably mistaken, since a pool might actually help a tribute develop skills for the arena, and therefore had no place in the mysterious waste of time. Yet, as he followed the scent to its source, his sense of dread only deepened.

Lustre was half right; it wasn't a pool, not exactly. In the room he found himself were several bodies of water, none of them particularly large or deep. The largest was painted with lines for swimming laps, but was hardly the huge, square monstrosity used to teach Tributes how to swim back home in District One. Secondly, the pool was tucked away in a corner, barely visible from the entrance.

Instead, the room drew his eyes to a giant waterfall, cascading into a pond of foggy-yet-welcoming water. To the side was a row of flat chairs, one of them already occupied by another tribute, whose eyes were closed happily as an Avox gave them a massage.

A spa. Inside the training center for the Hunger Games. What was the world coming to?

In spite of his instinctual disgust, Lustre decided to stick around. It was ridiculous, yes. But, he figured, relaxation between training sessions was quite beneficial. And Lustre had been training quite hard lately. Out of all the exploratory rooms he'd seen, this one at least made a modicum of sense. He slipped into a changing room near the front and found a pair of swim trunks his size, then made his way to a circular hot tub, on the opposite side of the spa as the lap pool.

For maybe five minutes, life was peaceful. Then came a distinct laugh, all too familiar to Lustre, cutting through the pleasant warmth.

"And I haven't eaten a blueberry since! Isn't that just hilarious?" The voice of Baron Margenium the Fifth cut through the peaceful ambience of the spa like a wrecking ball through a greenhouse. It was followed by a smattering of chuckles far less enthusiastic than his own booming laugh. Lustre sighed and stood up from the hot tub. Time to move on.

"Lustre? Lustre! Imagine seeing you here," the other boy called out to him, and Lustre cursed quietly to himself, as BV headed straight towards him with three other boys following behind. Lustre recognized all three. Nate, Consus, Trent. A couple Nines and the boy from Twelve. Hardly suitable company for a One. Yet Lustre was mildly impressed that someone as snobbish as Baron was capable of sharing the same space with that many lower districts, let alone allying with them.

"Hello Baron," Lustre said stiffly, "I was just leaving."

"Oh nonsense. Stay. Talk with us. Unless you're still afraid of water," He laughed again. It hurt more than a hammer to the face.

"I'm not."

BV was no longer paying attention to him, having turned to the other boys. "When this guy was a kid, he was so afraid of water. Cried and splashed all over the place any time he so much as dipped a toe into the shallow end. A lot of people thought he wasn't going to pass career training because he couldn't swim."

"Well I can swim now," Lustre snapped. He knew he ought to hold it together, if he hoped to find more allies, but his self control was wearing thin. As it always did around Baron.

"Barely. You guys should see it, it's like a sad flailing dog paddle. It-" Suddenly, Baron cut himself off, looking more thoughtful than usual.

"I'm… sorry," He said, "That's not actually funny."

Lustre blinked. He had known Baron for a very long time, but had never heard him apologize before, not even once. It felt like a trick. This was the boy whose jeering laughter followed him through his entire career training. He wouldn't get the benefit of the 's expression turned hostile as he tried to stare Baron down.

In response, BV turned to his allies. They talked for a moment, but Lustre could hear snippets of the conversation.

"I've never heard you so-"

"-Habit. Lot of history there."

"Should we be-"

"No. Just give me a few minutes."

While BV spoke to his allies, Lustre looked around for a way out of the spa, but found that the other boy's group were unfortunately blocking the main path. By the time the three other boys left, BV was already trying once again to engage him in a conversation.

"Are you ok?"

"Am I ok?" Lustre couldn't help but laugh. It was a thin, hysterical sound. Full of doubt and scorn. In his experience, Baron usually backed down once he heard someone laugh, regardless of the quality. Yet the boy stood his ground.

"I'm serious. You've always had a bit of a temper. But it's usually… subtler. Slower to make itself known. You practically bit my head off there and we both know I've said far worse to you."

What was this new self aware Baron Margenium? It made Lustre incredibly uncomfortable. He wasn't sure what the other Career was getting at, or what he wanted from this conversation. Perhaps he wanted an alliance and was attempting to flatter him? Yes. That was the only thing that made sense.

"Oh, so you really are slumming it," he answered, "Well I hate to break it to you but my alliance is full."

"What? My alliance is fine. I just-" BV cut himself off, swearing, then started over again. "Let's just talk, for a minute, ok? No jokes. No insults. Guards completely down."

Lustre didn't trust Baron, but he was willing to see where the other boy was going with this. He stayed silent.

"We don't like each other."

"That's an understatement."

"But we're both from One."

The gears in Lustre's head began to turn. Baron was a privileged shit, but he did love his District. It was one of the few things they had in common. "You want me at my best so that One keeps its good reputation."

BV nodded, "I don't think we can ally. Too much bad blood there. But I won't go after you until the finals. So you better be there."

For the first time since the chariots, Lustre found himself pleased about something. "Oh… don't worry. When we get to the finals, I'll eviscerate you. Slowly."

"Perfect." BV said, then left to rejoin his allies.

Bixby Case, District Three, Virgo

It was strange to realize that Bixby was having a fairly good time. Once he got over how macabre the whole situation was, he discovered that there was quite a lot to do at the training center. He was given more food than he'd seen in his life, a large comfortable bed with impossibly soft blankets and a group of avoxes who seemed perfectly content to get him anything he wanted. One of them brought him a guitar, which he practiced on in the time between training and falling asleep. He figured that if he had to die, there were worse ways to spend his final week.

Bixby wasn't really planning on surviving the games. His odds were slight and he'd already caused a minor stir at his reaping, although none of that stopped Peeta from acting as if he was already a victor.

"I wouldn't take anything for certain in the Hunger Games." His mentor told him once over breakfast, "I fully tried to die both times I was in the Arena, and we know how well that turned out. You need to think about what happens after the impossible happens.

This was one of the things Bixby found most annoying about Peeta. He was always talking about the after. After training, after interviews, after the Games. Bixby figured he was so regretful of the past that he couldn't help but fixate on the future. As for himself, he was far more concerned with the present.

For example, at that exact moment Bixby was in what looked like a chemistry lab as his friend Joaquin fiddled with a batch of cryptically labeled glass containers.

"This makes sense to you?" he asked, "I mean, I understand the basics. Like that the letters stand for elements and the numbers are how many of each one are in the compound. But I can't just tell you what…" he squinted at a nearby tube, "HLCL means or anything."

"Hydrochloric acid," Joaquin said without blinking, "So I'd be careful with it. I had a chemistry teacher take pity on me and bought me a series of textbooks. THey were the only books I had at my care home, so I read them a lot. But you're a Three, a pretty clever Three at that. Aren't they the fancy pants smart district? I grew up thinking you guys learned this stuff about the same time you learned to read."

"It's more complicated than that."

It was true that education in Three was more nuanced than most other Districts assumed. Three was a rich District, and that affected the schools children went to, but even in rich areas there were poor people. Bixby lost his parents when he was quite young and only ever possessed what other people were willing to give him. That was rarely very much. His schooling was better than most places in Panem, but it was perfunctory and mainly concerned with churning out good factory workers and lab assistants.

He remembered one year, there was an opening for a scholarship opportunity at the Baudelaire academy, one of the premiere private schools in Three. It was a place for rich kids and geniuses, somewhere that most students would kill to attend. Bixby still wasn't entirely sure why he skipped his appointment. He felt like he was probably smart enough. But he'd never know now. Instead he'd gotten a few extra hours of sleep and several years of bare minimum education.

"It's a bit of a worthless skill, if I'm honest." Joaquin said.

"You don't have to be modest. Poisons are an incredibly popular weapon in the Games."

"Sure," he said with a casual shrug, "But you think there's going to be random chemical compounds laying around the arena? Exploratory's been great, but it's not really preparing us for the Games proper. I figure there's got to be a different purpose."

"I wouldn't know." Bixby answered, though Joaquin knew him well enough by this point to tell by his tone that he was hiding something. He nodded his head slightly to the Capitolite at the other side of the lab, who was trying to pretend that she was storing bunsen burners instead of listening in on the two of them.

"I suppose you're right." Joaquin said and raised an eyebrow. A clear nonverbal question. What do you think they want?

Bixby shrugged. The capitol always wanted the same things. Control, power, money. A sense of superiority over the districts. But it was hard to tell how Exploratory helped any of that. In many ways, this year's mini quell seemed to actually go against the general interest of the Capitol. It made very little sense why such a twist would exist in the first place, which made Bixby even more suspicious.

There was some piece of information he was missing, some motive that he didn't quite understand. But he had a bad habit of passively gathering information until the answer became clear, like a snowball building in his head.

"I suppose they just want to see what we're like in different environments." Bixby answered eventually. Although that created even more questions. Why would different environments matter when all but one of them was going to die in the arena? Was the Capitol looking for traits a traditional training center may not show them? If so, for what purpose?

He tried to wave off all of the questions. This is not what he wanted to do, on the days before his death. It felt like everyone was trying to push him a certain way, place him in a box, make them what they wanted him to be. Bixby hated it. He just wanted to be himself.

"Hey do you have a token?" Joaquin said suddenly.

"No. Never saw the point of them."

"Then take this." The boy from five slipped a small vial into his hand.

"The Capitol isn't going to let me take poison into the arena." Bixby said.

"It's not poison."

"Drugs then?"

"Not that either."

It took Bixby a minute to even think about other things the liquid could be. Then he smiled slightly and placed it in his pocket. "They still may say no." he said eventually, "But I'll try."

"That's all I ask." and without any further explanation, Joaquin turned back to his strange liquids. Bixby watched him, content to spend a few hours feeling halfway normal with a friend.

Eli Slater, District Four, Virgo

Despite being hundreds of miles from home, Eli found himself doing what he always did when stressed: hiding in a library.

He'd found the library on the first day of Exploratory, a large beautiful structure that smelt of pine and old paper, but decided to move on to discover more rooms. However, it was day two and he was fairly confident about the layout of the new training mode that the Capitol decided to implement this year. Eli wasn't sure he understood it, but at least he knew where all the rooms were.

Libraries were always something beautiful to him. Growing up, Eli always felt like his world was very small. He had a set routine, planned activities, tutors and social functions that his father insisted on him attending. They repeated over and over again in a dull loop, a perpetual cycle of rules and regulations. His parents claimed it was all he ever needed to know.

"There are lucky and unfortunate people in the world." His father told him once, "You are one of the lucky ones. But with that comes duty. Know your role, perform it, and you will never suffer in this life."

For a long time, Eli thought his father was the smartest man in the world. He obeyed his parents without complaint, without any trace of doubt to their methods. To him, nothing else existed.

Until he found the library. Four was a rich district, and the library was a well-funded building that he walked by obliviously on his way to one lesson or another. Except one day one of his tutors assigned him a research project about the Slate lineage and suggested he find additional materials at the public library in town square. The sheer amount of knowledge he found there was staggering. Eli started to find more and more excuses to go there, until he was reading there at least twice a week.

That was when he found them. On the way out after a long day of reading, he decided to use a back entrance and found himself passing by the library dumpsters. Eli wasn't entirely sure what caught his attention, but he decided to look closer. Inside were books about the American Revolution. From that point further, his small life didn't seem lucky, it seemed cruel. He started to dream that the world could be more than Capitol and Districts. He wondered if perhaps he could be part of that change.

It was fitting then, that in the middle of preparations for the Hunger Games, he'd once more return to the place where all of his passions were first ignited. He headed to the philosophy section and ran his hand down an immaculate leather-bound version of the Federalist Papers. Eli felt a strong mix of emotions seeing the book on the shelf. Joy that it was displayed proudly in the library instead of heartlessly thrown out. Rage that the Capitol could read these books but it was considered too much for the Districts. And underneath all of that, a deep desire for change.

Panem would change. It had to. And Eli would be a part of that.

"There's a bit of a flaw to this plan, don't you think?" Eli heard a voice say somewhere deeper in the library. It sounded like a woman's voice. Someone he was pretty sure he'd never heard before. He walked towards the sound, attempting to listen in.

"If District Two is so untrustworthy, why have them make up most of your peacekeepers?" Another voice answered. One he knew but couldn't quite place, "You have already given them power. Why doubt their wisdom?"

"The wisdom of a force that turned on your father? That prioritized stability over justice?"

"That was because of the Capitol! If they hadn't interfered-"

"So they're weak-willed enough to be swayed by the Capitol yet I'm supposed to trust their wisdom?"

"That's not what I meant."

"The districts are locations, like the Capitol. They house people who are both capable and corrupt. Few things will change if you merely move the seat of power."

"Do you have a better plan?"

"I'm glad you asked."

Eli rounded the corner and the conversation abruptly ended. In front of him was a sturdy oak library desk where a middle aged woman sat talking with Hades Yamaguchi, one of the careers from Two.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt. Just exploring." Eli said.

He knew it would be best if he just left it there and continued to look through the library himself. But he had a question in his mind, and Eli never managed to understand the purpose of politeness despite his parents' attempts.

"I wouldn't have thought you were a reader."

Hades raised an eyebrow, while the rest of him remained stoic, "Why not? Are you under the impression District Two is illiterate?"

That was a prickly response. Eli wondered if he'd hit a nerve. "Not illiterate exactly. But… more practical than that. And not District Two either. Just… you've got the military officer man of action thing going on. You can't really learn combat from a book can you?"

"You'd be surprised."

Eli found that he was, in addition to curious. He had trainers at home, the best money could buy naturally, but now he wondered if there were additional techniques he may learn just by perusing the library here. It would help explain why such an odd thing was in the training center.

"But the actual fighting portion is just a fragment of combat." Hades continued, "There's strategy, logistics, leadership. I don't suppose you've heard of the Art of War?"

"I've heard of it, though not exactly favorably. It's supposed to be ruthless, isn't it?"

"Is it ruthless to suggest that commanders should make sure that their armies have food?"

It was uncomfortable, arguing in territory he wasn't familiar with. But Eli was never one to walk away from a debate. Still, a mild retreat wouldn't hurt him too much, "Is that what's in there?" He laughed.

Hades smiled, "Mostly. Though there's other advice. All warfare is based on deception. Is that more what you were expecting?"

"Pretty much."

"Well let me leave you with one more." He said, "It is easy to love your friend, but sometimes the hardest lesson to learn is to love your enemy."

Hades left then, and as Eli watched him disappear behind the stacks of books he wondered which one the other career considered him to be.

Valency Adamant, District Three, Sagittarius

It simply wasn't fair.

Valency was only a part time career, but she had gone through most of the basic courses. She'd talked to some of the victors from Three, and they'd told her more or less what to expect from the training center. No one mentioned anything like Exploratory, which meant that it was probably a new format. A completely new form of training, including dozens of rooms with specific but varied purposes. If Valency was asked what her heaven would look like, her answer would resemble Exploratory. Yet she only had a few days here and the areas were only open for a few hours. She'd left her room last night to see if perhaps she could access some of the areas while everyone else was sleeping, but all she got for her troubles was an angry avox and a locked elevator.

Having all of these amazing places to explore but not enough time to truly appreciate them all was truly a great injustice. It reminded her of her own life, seeing all of the possibilities the world possessed but the world telling her that she had to focus. She had to prioritize.

Most people in District Three had a specialty. There were chemists, or doctors or physicists, each with their own education tracks and unique job requirements. When she was younger and showed aptitude for most sciences, everyone wondered what specialty she'd choose. She remembered an interview she did at the age of six when someone asked her what her favorite discipline was. Valency said she couldn't choose and the audience laughed. Like that was a joke, and she'd eventually settle into one specific field.

Her mother was the one who laughed the loudest. Valency remembered hours at a table as her mother tried to get her to focus on chemistry, her own field. When that failed, she decided that it would be acceptable if her daughter would at least choose a scientific discipline. Or perhaps just science in general.

But Valency refused. There was just too much in the world. Art, history, gardening. She wanted to learn how to swim and make pottery and the best ways to win a hot dog eating contest. How could her mother name her after the ability to for atoms to combine and not realize that she would want to learn about the connection in everything? It was why she switched tracks so many times at Baudelaire. Perhaps it was why she decided to do career training in addition to her studies. Why she volunteered. Because life had so much more for her to see and she wasn't going to let people hold her back anymore.

This was why she was practically running through the halls of Exploratory, attempting to soak in as many rooms as possible. She turned a corner and tripped over herself as she sprinted headfirst into a dark room. Thankfully she knew how to fall safely from when she spent a few weeks learning how to play ice hockey. She stood up and dusted herself off as her eyes adjusted to the low light.

As she stood there, she realized that it wasn't completely dark at all. In the center of the room was a large glowing sphere, which seemed to be projecting light. Around the edges of the room were rows of chairs, each oriented to look up at the ceiling. Valency looked up herself and discovered a large portrait of the galaxy slowly moving across the domed top of this room.

A planetarium.

There were a lot of references to stars this games. The way they were sorted into constellations instead of districts. The details of the tribute center. She wondered if it was a hint for this year's arena. Were they going into space? No, probably not. Even the Capitol didn't have those resources. Maybe something that looked like space?

"Are you okay?" A voice from somewhere in the seating area asked.

Valency turned towards them, even though she wasn't quite yet accustomed enough to the dark to see who was talking to her, "Yeah. It was just a little fall. I came in pretty quick, I guess. This place is amazing."

"It is." The girl agreed. She was fairly certain it was a girl, at least. "I found it on the first day, but I keep coming back here. It reminds me of the theater."

"You like theaters?" Valency asked, her excitement carrying her down the dimly lit aisles to sit next to the girl, "I love them too. There's only a few in District Three but they're amazing."

"I actually live in once." The girl admitted.

"You live in one?" Valency found this news so thrilling that she accidentally raised her voice, and she was reasonably sure that anyone within three stations could hear her. "Theaters are some of the greatest places ever. I love it when I get to visit them Sometimes my pop culture class would rent one out so that we could watch movies. Pop culture class was always my favorite."

"Wow. You really are a career then."

"Sort of? I mean… I liked the classes."

Valency's new companion fell quiet and for a moment she wondered if she'd said something offensive. That was something that happened from time to time on accident.

"Have you seen many horror movies?" the girl asked

"I love horror movies! Okay, I like all movies but horror is a really important genre, right? It's also way deeper than anyone gives it credit for. And it brought us the concept of final girls! What's better than a final girl?"

The other girl fell quiet again and looked up to the sky, "Do you think I could be a final girl?" she asked.

Valency shifted a bit in her seat to get a better look at the girl in the darkness. "You could be." She said finally, "Like. I just met you. But you're sweet and you're determined so that's most of the important things right there. Now you just need to make good friends to help you with that. My name's Valency, which relates to atoms bonding. So maybe I can help with that. And my last name is Adamant, which means unwavering, so I'm not going to change my mind on this."

"I'm Chenille Garcia. Chenille is a fuzzy fabric and Garcia means… well it means someone in my family at some point was named Garcia."

"It's nice to meet you, Chenille Garcia. Let's be friends."

"Okay." The girl said, and they both looked up at the night sky together.