Author's Note

I do not own the Hunger Games.

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Paradigm of Writing

Luminescence Sterling, 17

Chasing the train proved useless. They must have kept it up for hours, but eventually, with exhaustion burning in their lungs and pain throbbing in their legs, they were forced to slow. Etheria's panting was still loud behind him.

"We have to keep going," Radiance said, his voice trembling. "We have to stop that train; we have to save her."

They had to save her. They were her brothers, her older brothers. They were meant to protect her.

They couldn't save her.

The thought came from somewhere at the back of his mind, but it soon sunk in, settling over him.

They couldn't save her.

Even here in The Game…

They were human.

"We can't save her," he said, stopping abruptly.

Radiance spun to face him. "What? Of course we can! Come on, we need to keep going!"

Luminescence shook his head. "No, Radiance. It's over. Etheria's done; look at her! And I can't go much further either." He sighed heavily. "Neither can you, I don't think."

Radiance flung his arms up. "We are not giving up. We can't. You know what'll happen to that train!"

"The train's long gone," Luminescence said, exhaustion in his voice.

"He's right," Etheria agreed.

"So you're just gonna give up?"

Luminescence sank to the ground. "I don't want to anymore than you do, but I can't continue."

The pain twisted inside him, he was leaving Phoenix to her certain death, but they couldn't save her. She might not be dead yet, but she would be.

Etheria flopped down beside him, dropping her bag by her legs. "Me neither. I'm sorry, Radiance. I can't go any further."

Radiance kicked the nearest tree, bringing a rain of colourful leaves down on top of them. "Fine! Be like that! But I'm not giving up on her!"

Luminescence groaned, reaching for him. "Radiance, you can't just storm off on your own!"

Too late. His brother had already strode away through the trees, his footsteps disappearing. Etheria watched after him. "Should we… stop him? Or go after him?"

Luminescence shook his head. "He'll come back."

Ares Gilmore, 15

Sterling didn't look well.

No.

Scratch that.

Sterling really didn't fucking look well.

They'd found blankets in both of their backpacks and used them to rig up a small shelter, just about big enough for the two of them, between two sapling trees, tethering it down at the edges with twine and stone.

The effort of the walk and the building of the shelter combined seemed to have shattered Sterling, who had collapsed inside the shelter and turned a very unhealthy shade of green. Ares dug through both their backpacks, but neither had contained any medicine. They did have a small bottle of iodine, but he didn't trust any of the natural water in this arena - it was probably all poisoned - so that piece of equipment was close to useless.

"Cruel fucking joke," he muttered, stuffing the little bottle to the bottom of Sterling's bag, where it had come from. She had a big canteen full of water anyway. His own bag had contained a canteen, but it was empty.

"Split it," Sterling muttered as he lifted the canteen over to her.

"What?"

"The water. It'll only go to waste on me. Take two thirds for yourself."

"That's quitter talk," he said, though he did dig his own canteen out again. "I'll take half."

"Whatever."

"Or, you know, I could take everything and leave you to die."

"You could," she agreed.

Ares steadied his hands in the middle of pouring water from her canteen into his and looked at her. "You– what?"

"That woman… she was telling the truth to some degree. She must have done something to the system. Clearly your body's coping with it better than mine."

Ares looked down at the canteens and capped them both, reaching over to push hers into her hands. "Maybe you'll feel better once you've slept."

Above them, the sky lit up with silver light. Ares frowned.

"What is that?" Sterling asked.

"Not sure," he replied.

She rolled over to put herself in a position to peer from the tent, grabbing her bow. Ares reached for his axe.

And from somewhere, the District One anthem began to play.

He jumped, and behind him, Sterling cried out. The anthem played out and faded into the one for District Two. He glanced at Sterling. "I think it must be the announcement of the dead."

"But… the anthem?"

"They're playing the District anthems instead."

The Capitol anthem when District kids were dying. The District anthem when Capitol kids were meant to be dying.

Fuck, this was fucked up.

Worse, it took a good ten minutes for the music to roll through all the Districts, their seals shining in the silvery light above them.

At last, however, the first of the faces appeared in the sky. His heart tore in two. Novi, the little brunette that had been sorted into Three with him. It had been her first time, and she'd been so nervous.

Her image dissolved, to be replaced with–

Not the player in forty seventh place. No. An image of Novi in what looked like her pod, hooked up to the goggles and headphones. Then the image flared, brightened, and her mouth opened in a soundless scream. She bucked and convulsed, tearing wires free from her helmet, and then she was still.

A bell boomed.

"Novi Aspera, age fourteen. Placed forty eighth."

Ares opened and closed his mouth, the words failing him.

"What the fuck?" whispered Sterling.

Above them, Novi's image faded and was replaced by another girl with vivid gold hair. In a repeat of what happened with Novi, her image became a feed from her pod and they watched her seize and die.

"Araminta Capricorn, age sixteen. Placed forty seventh."

"This is sick," Ares muttered.

Sterling shook her head. "No, no, it makes sense. They need a way to prove to us that they're serious. This is it." She waved a hand at the sky as the display continued.

"Cosmo Adrephus, age eighteen. Placed forty forth."

"But… didn't we already know that?"

"We did."

"Mercury Evangeline."

"But we're not the only players in this Game."

"Age eighteen."

"It's a show of power for everyone still questioning."

"Placed forty third."

Hortensia Chrysalis, 18

The fog had finally started to ease up as night fell, only to be replaced by the faces of the dying. Hortensia watched as the boy currently being displayed in the sky fell still.

"Charisma Blush, age sixteen. Placed forty second."

Hortensia tried to put the display out of her mind, but it was hard when it was playing directly above her head.

"Bastion Prime, age sixteen. Placed thirty ninth."

Vaguely familiar name. Maybe they'd played together before. Hortensia resisted the urge to look up and see his face.

"Olinnea Esvers, age eighteen. Placed thirty sixth."

And then it was all over, the light in the sky fading and leaving a dark so thick she could see nothing around her. Hortensia let out a breath of relief. Perfect, that was perfect. Players were always least on guard during the first night. According to the online forums, the thought was that few players would try to hunt that night, as they'd be too tired from the bloodbath. That meant players could fill their sleep meters during that time and be properly rested to hunt each other down in the morning. She'd taken two players out on the first night during her last game.

Hortensia sank to the ground beneath one of the ragged standing stones and swung her backpack into her lap. Time to see what she had. She'd have to find another player with arrows to supply her bow, too, since she still couldn't get the sponsor shop to open. Maybe whatever that announcer had done had blocked her access. Or maybe there was just something wrong with her. She hoped it wasn't that. It would tilt the odds away from her favour massively.

She opened her backpack and dipped a hand inside, pulling out the first of the contents. A pack of crackers. Food, food was good. Next was a spool of wire, then a small, square metallic blanket, and lastly a small canteen of water. Not a bad haul, though not enough to survive off long-term. She'd need more food and water as well as arrows.

"See sponsorship?" she whispered, but like before, the screen still didn't open. Maybe the hackers had disabled it. Bastards.

She ate a dry cracker to ease the hunger gnawing at her stomach and drank a mouthful of water to wash it down, before packing everything except the wire back into the bag.

She threaded the wire through her fingers, forming traps from muscle memory in the dark. These she put in place around her stone. She'd rest an hour in case any other players were still moving around for some reason, and then set off to find some. With any luck, she'd find someone with some arrows.

No one came during her rest period, and she gathered up some of the traps, leaving others in place. This arena was going to make her strategy… difficult. Sure, she'd be hard to see in the darkness, but so too would she struggle to find any of the other players in order to take them out. Unless she tripped right over them, which would cost her the element of surprise.

The darkness pressed in around her. Hortensia clutched her bow in one hand. Lack of arrows or not, she could still not someone with it. Hopefully she could find another player with arrows she could take. Otherwise she'd have to take their weapon and possibly risk a melee fight. That wouldn't be preferable.

But before she could account for any of that, she needed to find someone.

If anyone could be found in all this darkness.

Artemis Gilmore, 17

Thank fucking hell, the programmers of the Game had not been quite as thorough when making these crypts as the Gamekeepers of the real Hunger Games. Once Artemis managed to finally heave the door open, they were greeted by a small, grey stone room with a single unlit wooden torch on the wall. In the real arena, they'd put actual skeletons and corpses in these, the ones that would later rise as the mutts.

Apollo managed to stand under his own power – a good sign – and stepped up behind her. "Well, at least there's no corpses."

She cast him a tired glare. "No, they're just going to punch through the floor while we sleep."

"Funny."

"Yeah, so was yours. C'mon." She caught his arm and pulled him through the gap she'd managed to make between the door and the wall. She'd have to pull it closed a little way too, so no one found them while they slept, and that thought just made her tired all over again.

Apollo limped across the room and collapsed on one of the low slabs, dropping the two backpacks he was carrying at his feet. "Gods, what a situation to be in."

Artemis put her shoulder to the door, forcing it closed.

"Hope you can get that open again," Apollo said.

Artemis gave him one of those smug, twisted smiles of hers. "It'll give you some time to heal up."

Apollo rubbed his head. "Yeah. Fucking Sterling did a number on me."

"I can see that." She sank onto the bench beside him. "I thought I'd lost you. When I saw you."

He laughed and wrapped an arm around her. "Can't get rid of me that easily."

She elbowed him. "You better mean that."

"Of course I do!"

She reached down to their backpacks, lingering over the spare one, the one they'd taken for Ares.

Apollo squeezed her gently. "He's tough too. And we know he's not dead. We'll find him."

"I just hate that he's out there alone."

"He doesn't have to be alone. He could be with Wonder, we didn't see her face among the dead."

The images of those players dying as their recordings were played in the sky were carved into her brain. They had died, actually died, as they watched.

"I guess so," she whispered. She'd forgotten about Wonder. But they'd never seen their ally during the bloodbath, had they?

"And he's tough." Apollo gave her another squeeze. "He can survive one night. He's probably doing better than I am right now. In the morning, we'll find him, and it'll all be all right."

Artemis closed her eyes, trying to rid herself of the faces of the dying. "I hope you're right."

Emeria Delilah Echavoque, 15

There was no sign of the other alliance they'd seen from afar by the time they reached the large, grey stone building. It looked old, though it still had that new digitised structure under Emeria's hands.

Silverie must have guessed what she was looking for, because they asked, "You think they went inside?"

"They must have done."

Which meant it could be unsafe for them. The other group could have set up traps - or be lying in wait.

But above them, the sky was continuing to steadily darken, the digital sun dropping lower and lower in the sky.

"We could scout round," Emeria said, peering up the front of the building.

Silverie nodded. "Yeah. Maybe there are outbuildings or something."

The building turned out to be fucking huge as they walked down the side of it, which stretched on and on and on. Barred windows set into the grey stone walls displayed empty rooms beyond. One looked like a canteen, and another a kitchen.

They pointed that out to Emeria. "That could be worth trying to get to. There might be food in there."

Emeria nodded, and the two of them continued around the building until they found a rusted gate leading into what looked like a garden. They let themselves in, weapons in hand. Not that Emeria had many arrows to her bow. They'd have to either make some or get some with sponsor points.

Fortunately, there were no other players out there. And at the back of the building was an old wooden structure. A shed. Easier defended than entering the bigger building with other players inside.

It would do them well enough for the night.