Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men or The Hunger Games.

Note: Results of the "favorite contestants" poll are up on the website, which means it's time for the sponsor poll. For those of you who are new, here's how this works: Vote for whichever contestant(s) you would like to sponsor. This may or may not be the same as the contestants you like best, or the contestants you think would get sponsored; you can use whatever criteria you want. The poll will close right before the bloodbath chapter. The three contestants with the most votes (or possibly more in case of a tie) will receive a gift at some point during the Games. Sponsors aren't a thing yet here, but gifts will occasionally be provided. If one of the poll winners is killed in the bloodbath, the gift will pass to an ally. If they don't have any allies or all their allies are also dead ... I'll figure out something, seeing as district partners aren't a thing yet.

Gifts might be something big or something small, something useful or something sentimental - whatever works best for the plot. No, nothing here will determine who lives, who dies, who tells your story ... er, who wins. Yes, I did watch Hamilton on Disney, and it was a perfect Independence Day treat.

Anyway, go ahead and vote at some point before the bloodbath. As usual, feel free to vote for your own contestant(s); all I ask is that they aren't the only ones you vote for. (Though I fully realize I have no way to enforce this, which is why these polls don't really determine much.)

Also, the website has been updated with the current state of alliances, though those are subject to change both before and during the Games. After this chapter, everyone will get one more POV during training, and then the Games will begin!

Lastly, Happy Camp NaNoWriMo to everyone participating.


Training Day Two
Willing


Vincent Reid, 28

Anita must have been more convincing than he'd thought.

Vincent hid a smile as Fae, Henry, Kiara, and Iola followed him outside, tailed closely by Nicholas. Perfect. If Nicholas was keeping an eye on him, that meant he was nowhere near Anita. Which was good, because she wasn't being nearly as sneaky as she thought. The night when the floor had turned to goo, he'd seen her snatch the postcards off the table – the same postcards that Coburn had been paying so much attention to earlier.

On the surface, it was nothing. She could claim that she was simply trying to save the contestants' messages from being turned to goo. But coupled with the knowledge that someone had been funnelling information to Piper – someone who, as Anita had pointed out herself, had access to the contestants' information before the coaches did – it took on a different tone.

Of course, the MAAB had names and addresses for most of the contestants' family and friends. Most. But there was always a chance they had missed someone. A distant relative they hadn't thought to track. A childhood friend the contestant was still in touch with. And they still didn't know much about Coburn or Vi at all. Coburn's father was easy to trace; politicians always were. But his mother's side was posing more of a problem.

And it was Coburn who had also been interested in the postcards. Maybe Anita had simply been wondering why – what he'd found so intriguing. Vincent wasn't sure exactly what she was doing. In fact, until she'd come out to talk to him, he hadn't been certain – not completely certain – that she was the leak. He'd suspected, but he hadn't really had any proof.

Not that there was much he could have done with proof even if he'd had it. And now he was more helpless than ever. They would be watching his every move, and with his collar on, he wouldn't be able to cause any more disruptions. It was up to Anita now.

It wouldn't work.

He kept trying to remind himself of that. He'd gotten his hopes up last year – first when he'd discovered that two of the MAAB had voted against the Games in the first place, and then later when Diana had managed to get in touch with Magneto. It hadn't been enough. There had been no rescue. The only thing they'd managed to accomplish was getting Piper safely to … wherever she was, and only after the Games were over.

And she'd survived. The fact that they'd allowed two survivors was thanks to a deal they'd struck with Diana in return for her non-interference. But if Anita was channeling information to Piper, Diana was the obvious link. If she was helping Anita now, what did that mean? And how the hell had Piper convinced Anita to help in the first place?

It didn't matter. None of it mattered, because it wouldn't work. He couldn't let himself get his hopes up again. He had to focus – focus on what he could do. Vincent nodded grimly as Nicholas turned the contestants' collars off and immediately turned to go. "Wait!" Fae called. "What about Vincent?"

Nicholas didn't even turn around. Fae turned to Vincent, clearly upset. "What happened?"

"It's not important."

"Did you do something to upset him?"

"He's just in a bad mood today," Vincent answered vaguely, then turned to the rest of the group. "I figured we'd work on distance today. Henry, head that way, far as you think you can control one of those golems – the big ones. Iola, take the other direction. Henry's going to make a golem and try to control it while it's fighting you. You pick another form like you did yesterday, and try to hold it as long as you can while you're fighting. Fae, you stay here, and once they're far enough away, start singing. Try to calm them down. You two, try to keep fighting, and we'll see how that goes."

Fae nodded, immediately sliding over beside him. Vincent couldn't ignore a twinge of guilt. It was selfish, really – keeping Fae at his side. But her singing was calming. Soothing. It was almost as good as the voices. And hearing the music of her thoughts inside his head the day before … It had been the most beautiful thing he'd heard in a long time.

He turned to Kiara. "And you—"

"Wait until someone gets hurt and then heal them," Kiara finished.

Vincent smirked. "Not exactly. I've got another idea. I don't know if it's going to work, and I'm almost certain you won't like it, but I think it's worth giving it a shot." Kiara raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. She hadn't expected that. Good.

He just hoped she was willing to give it a try.


Florence Roos, 114

"Are you sure you want me to try this?"

Florence searched Maria's face for any sign of doubt, any hint that she was second-guessing herself and how dangerous this might be. Nothing. Not more than a hint of fear – just a lot of curiosity. And something … something else that she couldn't quite place. She wanted her to do this, but Florence wasn't quite sure why. Maria nodded. "I'm sure. How long has it been?"

"A few years, at least," Florence admitted. Hypnotism wasn't one of the skills she'd needed all that often, but it could be useful. It required direct eye contact, though – something that she didn't often get the chance to take advantage of. Maria's eyes, though, were now fixed on her. Waiting. Trusting.

Trusting her not to do anything they would all regret. Judah, meanwhile, was nearby with his finger poised on the button that would turn her collar back on if something went wrong. Like if she went for Maria's throat – or for his. She could. She might be able to make it before he hit the button, but then what? Even if she turned into a bat and made a run for it – or a fly for it – it was only a matter of time before someone turned her collar back on, and they could probably use the collars to track them.

Probably. Nobody had said anything about the collars containing a tracking device, but they wouldn't just drop the thirty of them in the middle of Wyoming if they didn't have some way to keep track of them, and their collars seemed like the easiest way to do so. No, the only way out of this was to play the game by their rules.

Florence stared, unblinking, into Maria's eyes. Concentrate. It had been a while since she'd done this, but there were things that it was hard to forget. "Take a few steps back," she instructed, and Maria did so. "Turn to the left." She did. "Bark like a dog."

Kenji burst into giggles as Maria began barking. "And you can make her do anything?"

"Up to a point," Florence admitted. "There are limits. Something like this is easy. It's harder to hypnotize someone into doing something they don't want to do. If I told her to jump off a bridge or something, or to try to kill Judah over there, she'd probably resist. Although I'm not sure she'd resist the second one too much."

She winked at Judah, but got no response. Not that she'd really expected one. He didn't care if they wanted to kill him. In fact, he probably expected it. She turned back to Maria, who was still watching her intently. Obediently. Maybe a little too obediently. She'd wanted this to work, after all, so she wasn't resisting. What she really needed was an instruction Maria wouldn't want to follow.

"Maria. Tell me what you were trying to convince Kenji to practice yesterday."

Beside her, Kenji looked up, surprised. Surprised, but not angry. Interesting. "You can do that?"

I guess we'll find out. "Maria. Tell me."

This she was resisting. There was sweat dripping from her forehead. But finally, the command won out. "He can go back in time."

"Shit." It took Florence a moment to realize it was Judah who had spoken. "Are you serious?"

Florence turned to Kenji, whose face was growing red. "You can?"

"Yes, but—"

"Why wouldn't you want to practice that?"

"Because the last time I did … it didn't end well."

Florence whirled to face Judah. "You didn't know?"

Kenji shook his head. "How would they? The most recent set of events is the only one anyone else remembers. There's no way they would have known."

And no way they would have picked you if they had. Florence nodded. "So you could go back, say, five minutes ago and stop Maria from telling us any of this?"

"Not exactly. It only works when I'm asleep. I fall asleep, go back to the past, and … do things differently. But the thing is, I'm the only one I can control, and there's not really any way to tell how that will change what anyone else does. If I went back and told you not to hypnotize Maria, what do you think you would do?"

"Ask you why."

"Exactly. And I can't tell you why without also telling you what I didn't want you to know anyway. But that's not the point."

Florence nodded. "The point is that you're not going to."

"I can't. It's too unpredictable. I would love to go back and stop my mom from dying, or stop the government from finding out about me and choosing me for the Games, but I don't know how to do any of that without possibly making things worse. Much worse."

"How far back can you go?"

"I don't know."

"Can you go to the future?"

"I don't know. And I'm not going to try. There's no way to control it. It's too dangerous."

"More dangerous than a fight to the death?"


Kenji Rose, 12

"More dangerous than a fight to the death?"

Kenji took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. It was certainly a question he'd asked himself often enough since he'd found out what they were actually here for. It was something he'd already thought through, but the answer was the same – for the same reason that he'd decided, time and again, not to go back and try to save his mother.

"It might not be more dangerous for me," he reasoned. "But think it through. What would I go back and change? Could I go back a few days and tell my family to start running, that there were government people coming to collect me? Sure. Of course I could. But then what?"

"You could get away," Emery reasoned, jumping in for the first time. "If I'd known they were coming for me, I would have run." She turned to Florence. "Wouldn't you?"

Florence hesitated. Judah shook his head. "Except you did know, didn't you, Florence. You were standing right there waiting for us. Why?"

"I had some warning," Florence answered vaguely.

Kenji nodded. "And you didn't run. Why?"

"It was too late. Apparently, there are some things about the future that are certain. That's what an old friend of mine said, at least."

"Maybe the past works the same way," Kenji suggested. "Maybe there are some things that you can't change – or things that you can only make worse. If we'd run a few days earlier, don't you think they would have noticed? Tracked us? And even if we'd managed to get away, then what? They would simply have chosen someone else. People are still going to die."

"But not you – or maybe not, at least," Emery pointed out.

"Maybe not," Kenji agreed. "Or maybe I go back a few days, explain what's happening, and the government figures out that I had information I couldn't possibly have had, and that I came from the future. Maybe they decide I'm too much of a handful to stick in the Games, slap a collar on me anyway and dump me in a cell somewhere, and pick someone else. Maybe someone I know, someone I care about."

Maybe his twin sister, Mika. If they'd chosen him even when they'd thought his power was simply enhanced speed, they probably wouldn't have thought twice about choosing her. Even the possibility that they might choose her instead if he proved to be too much trouble was enough to keep him from trying.

For a long moment, no one spoke, and Kenji did his best not to glance over at Judah. Not to seem like he was looking for affirmation, like he was just putting on a show for the MAAB. For all they knew, after all, he could be pretending not to want to use his power long enough for them to let their guards down, only to immediately use it as soon as he was actually in the Games. That certainly wasn't what he was intending, but they didn't know that.

They didn't know anything about him.

It was Maria who finally broke the silence. "Maybe we should avoid playing truth or dare while we're practicing hypnosis," she suggested, shaking her head as if clearing it of Florence's influence.

Kenji laughed – a sort of nervous laugh that was more because of the relieved tension than because he'd actually found the joke funny. Maria was trying to lighten the mood, but the fact was, his secret was out. And he couldn't even blame her – not really. He could have asked her to stop, or tried to stop Florence from asking the question, or simply not told her in the first place. But the truth was, it was almost a relief that the other two knew now. It would stop them from having to find out at some point during the Games.

And it would also stop the MAAB from finding out later. He'd let Maria give them some warning. Sure, they would probably have found out eventually – as soon as someone got around to watching the tapes and realized that he'd told her. But at least this way, it wouldn't look like he was trying to keep a secret.

Because it wasn't a secret. It was a promise – a promise he'd made to himself, to his mother, to everyone else he had accidentally hurt with his mistake.

A promise he wasn't willing to break.


Iola Boman, 19

They seemed much more willing to fight today.

Iola felt a smile creep across her face – which was currently Fae's face – as she ducked beneath another one of the golem's blows. Yesterday, Henry had been a bit more hesitant, more reluctant to do anything that might cause actual damage. They'd apologized the first few times they'd actually managed to hit Iola, and they certainly hadn't seemed to want to do it again.

But the two of them were slowly finding a rhythm, reassured by the fact that Kiara could repair any injuries that Henry actually caused. Right now, they were controlling two golems – one larger one that Iola was fighting, and a smaller one that kept crawling up her sleeves and trying to distract her. She couldn't tell exactly how far away Henry was, but they'd gotten pretty far away from each other.

Not far enough, however, to escape Fae's singing. The voice was ringing in her ears, begging her to slow down, to relax, to stop fighting. Iola clenched her fists and resisted the impulse to just sprint back towards Vincent and relax and listen to Fae's singing for the rest of their session. It was tempting – so tempting – but it wouldn't help her, or any of the others.

The others. It had practically been second nature, finding someone to work with. Finding younger mutants who needed her help – that was what she did. They'd always needed to be willing to work together, to help each other, because God knew no one else was going to. Certainly none of the humans were going to help them. Her mother, her church, and every other human she'd ever meant – none of them had helped her, and most had done the opposite. At best, humans were neutral, uncaring, but most of them, in her experience, weren't even that.

Iola sidestepped the larger golem's blow as the smaller one crawled up her arm. Try as she might, the best she'd been able to do was dodge, retreat, run away. The bigger golem wasn't fast; that was one of the things Henry was working on. Apparently, it was easier to make the smaller ones move quickly. But what it lacked in speed, it made up for in strength. The one Henry was controlling now was made of solid earth, and it packed a punch. It may have been made out of dirt, but it was packed so tightly together, it was more like being hit by a rock.

How was she supposed to fight a rock?

That thought became a bit more comforting, however, when she realized that any contestants they were fighting in the Games would probably have the same difficulty. Sure, they knew there was at least one who could turn the golems to goo simply by touching them, but Henry could always make more. Maybe they could even make some out of goo. And sure, a bat could fly higher than the golems could reach, but she would have to come down in order to actually hurt any of them. A wolf wasn't likely to have any more luck against a golem than a human. There were a few contestants who could outrun the golems – the larger ones, at least – but as for actually destroying them … well, they would probably have to kill Henry.

That wasn't an encouraging thought. Henry was the only one in the group whose power was really useful for fighting. Kiara's was exactly the opposite, which was certainly useful in the aftermath of a fight, but during it … not so much. Iola's own power could allow her to mimic someone who was physically stronger than her, yes, but that was as far as it went. Powers didn't come along for the ride. And Fae…

Well, she was just glad neither of the others had asked why she had picked Fae. Because they might not be satisfied with the answer. Hell, she might not be satisfied with the answer if it was someone else giving it. She'd purposely approached Fae first so that no one else she might think of allying with could question letting the younger girl join them.

Because the simple fact was, she liked Fae. She was sweet and clever and exactly the sort of mutant Iola would have tried to rescue from humanity's clutches even before the Games. Except somehow, Fae's life didn't seem like one she'd need to be rescued from. All in all, she'd been accepted. Kiara had perhaps been taken advantage of, but not harmed. Henry hadn't said much about their life back home, but they seemed pretty comfortable using their powers.

And that was one thing that really mattered. She didn't have time to wait for someone to figure out how to control their own abilities. All four of them already knew what they were doing. These sessions were about testing the limits of what they could do, not about learning brand new skills and trying to master them in a matter of days. Hopefully, that experience would make up for what they lacked in sheer force.

It was certainly a trade she was willing to make.


Henry Helstrom, 14

This was definitely a trade they were willing to make.

Henry concentrated, flicking their wrist a little and shaving a bit of dirt off the golem that was currently battling Iola. They'd been gradually doing the same thing for about five minutes now, removing a little dirt at a time, slowly shrinking the golem down to just the right size. Just the right size to be fast enough to fight effectively while still being large enough to pack a punch. It was a tradeoff – speed for size. They just had to find the right balance.

It was almost like a game, really. They'd never had much of a reason to focus on either speed or strength before – just on how much they could control the golems. But this … as long as they ignored the reason why they were doing it, it was almost a puzzle. A challenge. Maybe not fun, but certainly engaging.

If only they could stop the singing.

Henry took a deep breath, closing their fist a little tighter, and the golem struck. Iola barely dodged in time. Fae's singing was distracting, but that was the idea – to help them get used to fighting despite it. That way, if Fae wanted to slow down their opponents, it wouldn't have the same effect on them. Hopefully. That was the idea, at least. At first, it had been like moving through tar to try to get anything accomplished with the singing going on. Now, it was getting easier.

But how much of that was because Fae was also distracted? Every so often, Henry glanced over at where she was working with Vincent and Kiara, and Fae certainly seemed to be watching the other two. Henry and Iola were too far away to really see what the other three were doing, but every so often, Henry was certain they could hear something else in the notes of Fae's songs – fascination, but also an undeniable horror.

Something was definitely going on.

Just as they were about to land another punch with the golem, however, a whistle blew, signalling the end of the session. It didn't make much of a difference, really; they still had an hour left out here with Vincent, since Fae's session was right before their own. But Henry and Iola hurried back to the others anyway, in case Vincent had some extra instructions.

Instead, they found him rubbing his arm and grinning at Kiara, who was staring at his arm, horrified. Henry could see blood, and it didn't take very long to realize that Vincent had a knife. One of the MAAB was watching from a safe distance, ready to step in, but Vincent didn't seem concerned – only fascinated. He smiled at Kiara. "See. You can do it."

"What'd she do?" Henry asked, venturing closer. Iola hung back a little, maybe worried that Kiara had done something dangerous. Fae was standing close to Vincent, while Kiara took another step back. Then another. Whatever she'd done, she was clearly not happy about it.

Vincent wiped away the blood, revealing a cut on his arm. "It's okay, Kiara. Really. Just heal it back up again, and —"

Immediately, Kiara rushed to his side, almost as if she'd forgotten that she could, in fact, fix whatever she had just done. Soon, the cut on Vincent's arm was healed, and Kiara was smiling shakily. "I … I did it."

Iola shook her head. "So you healed his arm after he cut it. So what? You've been healing my broken bones since yesterday."

Vincent smiled slyly. "Show them, Kiara. Bring it back again."

"But —"

"There's nothing to worry about. You just proved that you can heal it again just as easily. It's okay."

Kiara took a deep breath and laid her hand on Vincent's arm. Her forehead furrowed with concentration, and when she moved her hand away again, the cut was back. Henry blinked. "You did that?"

"Yeah."

"So you can hurt people just by … what? Thinking it?"

Kiara shook her head. "No, it … it looks like it works the same way as when I heal them. I need physical contact, and I … I can't just make injuries appear out of nowhere. It has to be something that was already there."

Henry nodded, putting the pieces together. They turned to Vincent. "So you cut yourself first."

"Exactly."

Iola shook her head. "How does that help, exactly? If someone is hurt, and she heals them, she can bring the injury back? But why would she have healed them in the first place?"

Henry glanced at Kiara. "It's more than that, isn't it. It doesn't have to be something that you healed."

"I don't know."

She didn't. But from the look on her face, she had a guess. There was no telling exactly what she could do, exactly how far her power went.

She just had to be willing to find out.


Coburn Hughes, 17

He had to be willing to let go.

Coburn took a deep breath as Lilith gave his shoulder a squeeze. "You can do this," she insisted, a bit more forcefully than last time. "You've got the flame right there. All you have to do is hold it after I let go."

Coburn nodded reluctantly. She made it sound so simple. Just keep the little flame where it was, instead of allowing it to flare into wisps of fire like it had every other time. Just that. Except…

Except it wasn't just that. Controlling a tiny flame was only the start of what they would expect him to be able to do once the Games actually started. A little flame like this might be useful for starting a campfire to cook some food, but it wasn't going to do them any good in an actual fight. He was miles away from being able to do that, and they all knew it.

Well, he was miles away from being able to control that. If the flames got out of control, they could probably burn down an entire forest, but that wouldn't do them any good, either. So far, the fire hadn't seemed to harm him, but that didn't make his friends fireproof. Coburn shook his head. "How long did it take your sister before … before she could control it?"

Lilith hesitated. For a moment, Coburn thought maybe he'd hit a sore spot. Maybe she just missed her sister as much as he missed Cari. But when Lilith answered, it was obvious why she hadn't wanted to tell him. "Months," she admitted. "It took months of practice, but —"

"This is pointless, then," Coburn sighed. "We don't have months. We have two more days. That's it. I'm never going to get the hang of this in two days."

Maria shook her head as she and Savannah joined the two of them. Savannah had finally managed to contain the lightning bolts that had been shooting everywhere for the past few minutes. Either that, or she'd finally given up and asked Mack to turn her collar back on. It didn't really matter which at the moment.

Maria's expression was tense. She was trying to be optimistic, but she had to realize that he was right. "No one's expecting you to control it completely," she offered. "It takes months, even years of practice for that. But you're already doing much better than you were yesterday."

"That's because she's still holding on," Coburn pointed out, nodding to Lilith's hand on his shoulder. Her power helped. It really did. But she couldn't keep holding on during the Games – not all the time, at least. Especially not because she'd been doing the same thing for Savannah. She couldn't help both of them all the time, and when it came down to a fight, chances were good that they would both need her help.

He knew he certainly would. He wasn't ready for a fight, and two days weren't going to change that. His hands were shaking as Lilith finally loosened her grip. "It's okay. You've got this." She took her hand away.

Almost immediately, the flame sprang up, out of control, billowing towards the sky. "I can't," Coburn insisted. "Lilith, you have to help me."

Lilith shook her head. "No. You can do it. You have to. I might not always be right there to help you. You have to learn how to do this."

He did. He had to. But it was too much. The flame was growing hotter, the center burning a light shade of blue. If it got out of control now…

But it already was. Maria was taking cautious steps backwards, and so were Savannah and Lilith. Mack was already a safe distance away, his finger poised over the button that would turn Coburn's collar back on. But if something was already burning, that wouldn't do any good. "Focus!" Maria called over the roar of the fire. "You've already got it big enough, so focus on that target over there. Try to hit it with the fire."

Right. Try to hit the target. The trouble was, there were four targets, and they were all close together. He'd managed to hit them quite a few times the day before, but the trouble was trying to hit only one. Almost every time, they'd had to replace all four targets. Which was fine with straw dummies, but not so great if either Savannah or Lilith was in a fight and he was trying to hit their opponent. He didn't want to end up hitting one of them.

Right now, though, it didn't seem to matter what he hit; everything else around it went up in flames, as well. Coburn took a deep breath and brought his hands level with the target, trying to force the flame sideways instead of straight up. It mostly worked, but 'mostly' wasn't good enough.

Not unless he was willing to mostly keep his friends from being charred to a crisp.


Lilith Haywood, 23

She had to be willing to step in at any moment.

Lilith braced herself as the flames raced towards the targets. Mack was standing by with a hose to douse the flames, but if they got out of control, the only person who would really be able to stop them was Coburn. She'd had to step in a few times the day before during her own session with Penelope. They'd been testing how quickly she could help the other two gain control again if their powers got out of hand.

The results had been … well, they'd been about as good as she had any right to expect. She'd had plenty of practice, but both Coburn and Savannah had spent most of their time since discovering their abilities trying not to use them. Which had served them well enough back in their ordinary lives, when it was usually better not to electrocute things or set them on fire. But now … now they didn't have the luxury of not using them.

But their abilities would still be of little use if they couldn't control them. She couldn't keep an eye on even one of them every minute of every day, let alone both of them. And in the Games, where the slightest thing could startle them into using their powers, that could be dangerous. Part of her couldn't help wondering if she'd bitten off more than she could chew.

No. No, she had to do this. She had told them she would help, and she would. She didn't have a choice anymore. Even if she wanted to leave now, almost everyone else had already found a group. If she tried to join one now, nearly halfway through training, she would be looked at as a latecomer, tagging along with an already-established group that was probably working together quite well on their own.

Lilith winced as the flames engulfed all four targets. In terms of raw firepower, Coburn and Savannah were probably both among the stronger contestants in the arena. The fact that they needed her help to really control their powers … well, maybe that was a good thing in the long run. It was good to be needed; it meant they weren't likely to run off and leave her behind if things got tough. Which was good, because on her own…

On her own, her power was pretty much useless.

Lilith laid a hand on Coburn's shoulder as Mack produced another set of targets from a nearby shed. "It's okay. You'll get the hang of it."

The words came so naturally. It was something she'd said to her sister so often while they were working together. Meghan had gotten so flustered, but she'd always had Lilith there at her side. Working with one person on their own time had been a handful. Now, working with two, with a looming deadline when they had to be ready, she was grateful she'd had the practice.

Coburn shook his head. "I've got it when you help me."

That was certainly true. With her help, he could channel the fire into a rather narrow stream, and more often than not, he'd been able to hit the target. Savannah had been able to do the same, shooting one lightning bolt rather than spraying lightning in every direction. But only with her help.

"What if she wasn't helping you?" Savannah asked quietly.

"You've seen what happens if she doesn't," Coburn pointed out. "What are you getting at?"

Savannah turned to Lilith. "What if, instead of trying to help him focus it, you try to stop him? Try to stop the fire entirely."

"What good would that do?"

A hint of a smile played on Savannah's lips. "It would give you something to practice. All this time, you've been helping us. Maybe it's time to give you a run for your money."

Coburn shook his head. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. If she's trying to stop me, and I'm trying to make the flames bigger, what happens if something gives? What happens if it's too much for her to control? It could just … explode."

Savannah nodded. "What if … what if you try with me, instead?


Savannah Kingston, 19

"What if you try it with me, instead?"

Savannah tried to smile, hoping her voice somehow sounded less shaky to Lilith than it did to her. It had been her suggestion, so it was a bit too late to go back now. So she plowed on, instead. "It wouldn't be as dangerous. Fire keeps burning even if Coburn's collar is on, but my lightning seems to stop as soon as he pushes that button." She nodded in Mack's direction. "If something goes wrong, it would only be for a second."

Except it would only take a second for something to go very, very wrong. But she didn't say that, because Lilith was finally smiling. She'd spent all of the day before trying to help both Coburn and Savannah, to the point where she was really their coach as much as their actual coaches were. Both Maria and Penelope had been great, but they couldn't do what Lilith could as far as stepping in and helping them. They could give advice, try to give pointers, but Lilith could actually focus their abilities, channel them so that they only hit what they were aiming for.

It was time to give her something in return.

Maria nodded her approval. "Okay. Mack, take Lilith and Savannah a safe distance away, and be ready to step in if something does go wrong. I'll stay here with Coburn and keep trying to hit those targets."

Mack nodded, and the three of them headed off. "Just try not to fry everything," Mack mumbled.

Savannah swallowed hard. What would happen if she did? What would they do if she accidentally electrocuted someone before the Games even began? What if she killed one of the other contestants? Worse, what if she killed one of the MAAB? What would they do then? Would they kill her outright, or arrange for someone to kill her quickly in the Games? Maybe they would turn her collar on in the Games to make her an easy target.

Savannah clenched her fists as electricity began tingling through her fingers. Calm down. They needed to get a little farther from Maria and Coburn first. Then she could let go of the tension that had been building up. Finally, Mack nodded. "Okay, whenever you're ready."

Savannah smiled nervously as Lilith took her hand. "Ready?"

Lilith nodded. "Ready. Go ahead and—"

Before she even finished the sentence, bolts of lightning shot out in every direction – but not as far as they could have. Mack took a few cautious steps back, but the lightning hadn't even come close to him. Lilith squeezed Savannah's hand a little harder. "Keep trying to make it bigger. I'm going to try to calm it down."

Savannah nodded, but the truth was, she wasn't really trying to make the lightning go farther at all. It was simply all the tension, all the anxiety that had been building up for the last few minutes of wondering what might happen to her if something went wrong. And if this was what was happening while they were just training, when it was only the idea that someone might kill her, what would happen in the Games if someone was actually trying to?

The lightning bolts seemed to be getting smaller. Whatever Lilith was doing, it was apparently working. Good. That meant … what? That maybe Lilith would be able to user her power to stop some of the other contestants from using theirs? Maybe. But only if she could get close enough to touch them, and she needed constant physical contact in order for it to work.

Still, it was something, and the fact that Lilith was beaming with pride once the lightning bolts were extinguished completely was reward enough. Finally, Lilith slid her hand out of Savannah's. "I … thanks, Savannah."

"For what?"

"I thought … well, to be honest, I didn't think my power was going to be much use without someone else's – yours or Coburn's. I hadn't even thought about using it to stop someone else, rather than helping you two. It's good to feel…"

"Useful?"

"Independently useful. I'm used to helping my sister, and now I'm helping you two. It's good to know that there's something I can do to help … well, me. Not that there's anything wrong with you two," she added quickly. "It's just…"

"Just that this is a fight to the death," Savannah finished. "And if one of us dies – or both of us die – you still have some way to fight."

Lilith nodded. "I didn't mean it like that, but … yeah. Not that I want you to die, but—"

"But it might happen," Savannah agreed.

"Yeah."

Savannah nodded. Lilith was right. It wasn't a pleasant thought, but she was right. There were three of them, after all – her, Lilith and Coburn. Eventually, at least one of them was going to die. And if she did die, she wanted Lilith to have a way to protect herself, just like she would want to have a way to control her powers if Lilith died. Savannah took a deep breath and slid her hand back into Lilith's.

"Want to try again?"


Kylena Albright, 16

"Are you sure you want to try this?"

Kylena shook her head as Evelyn led the way outside, Makenzie tagging along behind them. They'd just finished Makenzie's session with Vincent, following her own session with Maria. Evelyn's session with Ian would be right after lunch. But Evelyn didn't seem interested in stopping to take a breath, and had suggested they should spend some time with the doctor who had offered to train the contestants in first aid.

Evelyn nodded. "I'm sure. Look, we have three hours of training, and that's good, but if there's someone offering to teach us more … I'm surprised more people aren't taking advantage of that. Yesterday, I thought it might be nice to relax a bit after so much training, but it didn't help. Relaxing isn't going to help. Training is."

That made sense. It sounded good. But the truth was, she was a bit tired, and relaxing did sound rather nice. Except…

Except relaxing meant more time to think, just as it had after their sessions had finished the day before. Evelyn was right; that was a lot of time just sitting there at the tables inside, talking, worrying, and wondering what might happen next. It was no wonder Evelyn didn't want to sit still, but…

But what?

Kylena couldn't put a finger on what was bothering her about the idea, but something was nagging in the back of her mind. As much as it made sense in theory, something about this felt inexplicably but undeniably wrong.

It was Makenzie who finally spoke up. "Aren't you worried that it'll look like we're … working with them? Like we're cooperating?"

Evelyn stopped in her tracks, surprised. "We are cooperating. Everyone who's training, everyone who's planning to actually fight once we're in the Games – we're all cooperating. Because that's the only way to survive."

"True, but there's a difference between training like we're supposed to and actively looking for more. It might look like we're a bit too eager to fight."

Evelyn shrugged. "No, if we'd taken Judah up on his offer to teach us how to fight, it would look like we're eager to fight. If we go for first aid training, it looks like we want to know how to save each other if something happens. And we do … right?"

Makenzie nodded. She couldn't argue with that. Kylena held her tongue. If they spent an hour or so learning first aid and then decided it had been a bad idea, they could always stop. They could always decide to do something else tomorrow. And then—

That was it. Today. Tomorrow. Then the Games. Kylena swallowed hard as Evelyn approached Anita, who turned around, grinning, as if delighted that someone had finally decided to take her up on the offer. She quickly retrieved a large bag of supplies and settled down on the ground, gesturing for the three of them to do the same. Kylena quickly followed her lead. Right now, anything that might take her mind off the fact that any of them might be dead in a matter of days … well, that had to be a good thing, right? Besides, Anita seemed nice enough.

Nice. Kylena shook the thought from her head. It didn't matter if Anita was nice to them. She was still one of the people who were forcing them to participate in a fight to the death. It didn't matter if she smiled, if she taught them everything she knew, or if she made them chocolate chip cookies. That didn't make her a friend. She was one of the MAAB.

It was that simple.

But right now, she was smiling, and plopping a dummy down in front of the three of them. "All right. Usually, I'd start with the basics, but we only have so much time. So why don't we see where we're starting at." She took a small knife from her bag and sliced it across the dummy's thigh. Some sort of liquid began to ooze out. "All right. Stop the bleeding."

Immediately, Evelyn placed her hands on top of the cut, while Makenzie began rummaging through the bag for some bandages. Kylena hesitated a moment, but then took the knife that Anita had used and cut the strap off the bag, tying it around the dummy's leg, a bit above the wound. She was pretty sure she'd heard that somewhere – to cut off blood flow above the wound rather than right on top of it. Soon, Makenzie had the wound bandaged, and Evelyn removed her hands, which were coated in whatever liquid the dummy had been full of. The three of them looked up at Anita, who raised an eyebrow, still smiling.

"It looks like we have somewhere to start."


Ansel Moore, 21

He wasn't even sure where to start.

Ansel glanced around at Lee, Liv, and Elena, who seemed at just as much of a loss. Vincent had said he wanted them to practice working as a team, coming up with solutions to problems. Right now, the 'problem' was that Vincent was on the roof of the building, chucking pebbles at them to simulate some sort of attack. All they had to do was stop him.

Right. He'd made it sound so easy, when he'd put it like that. The problem was, they had no way to get to him now that he'd pulled up the rope he'd used to climb up, and none of their powers were going to be of much use. In the Games, of course, they would have the option to run away, but it went without saying that they would eventually have to do more than that. They would have to fight. And this was about as easy a fight as they could ask for. Four against one. All Vincent had going for him was the fact that he was on a roof, and he could throw things at them from a distance.

"Maybe you could hit him with a lightning bolt, Liv," Elena suggested. "I mean … not really. Just hit the roof beside him or something, and we can assume it would actually have hit him in the Games."

Liv shook her head. "I don't have that sort of control – not really. You saw what happened yesterday. I'm pretty good at getting a storm to appear, but what happens afterwards…"

Ansel nodded. She was right. She could get it to rain pretty consistently, which would certainly be useful in the Games if they didn't have access to water, but as far as using the weather as a weapon, they were still a long way from that. Ansel dropped his voice. "But does he know that?" He nodded towards Vincent, who was far enough away on top of the roof that he probably hadn't heard them. "If you can make it look like that's what you're trying to do, maybe that'll be good enough."

Liv took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay, I'll try. While I'm doing that, Elena, turn metal, make yourself a shield to hide us. Lee, can you make her blend in with the ground?"

"It'll take a little while, but—"

"Do it. Ansel, direct your power at Vincent. See if you can convince him it's a good idea to come down off the roof."

"It doesn't work like that. I can't control what people are inspired to do." Just like he hadn't been able to control what Liv would suggest. He'd been using his power on the others for the last few minutes, and this is what she'd come up with?

Liv shrugged. "Try it anyway. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I don't know. That's the point."

"And that's what practice is for. Do it."

Ansel nodded as the three of them crowded behind Elena, who was turning metal – and, it seemed, a bit larger. Or maybe it just seemed that way, with essentially a metal robot standing between them and Vincent, who was still casually – infuriatingly casually – chucking pebbles at them.

Not that pebbles were a problem. Not really. It was what they represented. If he could hit them with pebbles, another contestant might be able to hit them with something far more deadly. The sky above was already growing dark. Ansel risked a glance at Vincent, who didn't appear particularly concerned about that. A little rain was a long way away from being able to strike a target with a bolt of lightning, and he knew it.

Ansel clenched his fists. It was frustrating, but it wasn't really Vincent's fault. He was trying to help them, and giving them someone to fight against was probably the best way to get them to work together as a team. But if they couldn't even stop him from throwing pebbles…

Clank. Something struck Elena – something that sounded quite a bit bigger than a pebble. Ansel glanced out again, trying to focus on Vincent, and caught sight of the rock he'd thrown. Definitely bigger than a pebble. Maybe he'd figured that since they were hiding behind Elena, it wouldn't hurt to throw something that might actually hurt them. Or maybe that had been the plan all along – keep throwing bigger and bigger things until they finally managed to stop him. Ansel shook his head.

What were they supposed to do now?


Caihong Lee, 25

What were they supposed to do now?

Lee kept his hand on Elena, changing her color to match the ground below them. But what was that really going to do? Camouflage wasn't going to do them much good if Vincent already knew exactly where they were. Clank. Another rock struck Elena, and Lee saw Liv quickly scoop it up. She didn't seem to be causing much of a storm; it was raining, but little else. "What are you doing?" Lee hissed.

Liv tossed him the next rock that came flying, and threw the next to Ansel. "Waiting."

"For what? For him to start throwing bigger rocks?"

Liv flashed him a grin. "Something like that. Be ready to throw."

Oh.

Oh.

Stupid. Lee almost smacked himself in the head with the rock. Minutes of Vincent chucking things at them, and no one had thought of simply throwing them back. There were four of them, one of him, and they had a shield. He could only throw one or two at a time, and he would have to dodge all of them. "Elena," Liv whispered. "How many do you think you can fit in your hand if you make it a bowl like you did yesterday to catch the rain?"

In response, Elena formed her hand into a bowl. "Let's find out."

Clank. Clank. Clank. The rocks were coming faster now. That was probably supposed to scare them, but now they had a plan. Lee turned to Liv, who piled a few more rocks into Elena's hands. "All right," she whispered. "On the count of three. One. Two. Three."

They turned. Rocks went flying. Almost immediately, Vincent threw himself flat against the roof, shielding his head. Lee was pretty sure he saw something hit him anyway. Soon, all the rocks were gone, but Vincent still hadn't moved. Liv breathed a sigh of relief. "I think we got him."

"But did we hurt him?" Elena asked, her metal now entirely gone. "Do you think he's all right up there?" She took a step towards the building, peering up. Almost immediately, a rock came flying squarely at her head, and she barely turned into metal in time to avoid a nasty headache. "Hey!" she called up, her face fading from metal back to a deep red. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Don't." Vincent was already swinging himself down from the roof, using the same knotted rope he'd used to climb up. "Don't check to make sure your opponent is okay. Check to make sure they're dead. There's a difference."

Elena took a step back, just in case he still had a rock in his hands. "I didn't want to hurt you."

"I know. I know none of you want to. But you have to be willing to, or you won't last long once the Games actually start. If none of you want to hit me with a rock, what do you think will happen when you're actually trying to kill people?"

Lee opened his mouth, but thought better of it. Vincent was right. Lee hated it, but he was right, and arguing right now was pointless anyway.

Elena shook her head. "Can't believe it took us that long to think of just throwing the rocks back," she mumbled.

Vincent shrugged. "Actually, that wasn't bad for your first real crack at problem-solving as a team. Just remember, training isn't just about your powers – especially if your powers aren't going to be particularly useful in a fight. If you can find a way to use your opponent's powers against them, take it. That can be just as useful as using your own."

Lee nodded. But it wasn't that simple – not really. Once they were in the Games, the other contestants weren't just going to be throwing rocks at them – not most of them, anyway. They needed to be prepared for … what? Fireballs? Lightning? Vampires and werewolves and people who could turn anything they touched into goo. What good was a power like his against something like that?

Vincent clapped him on the back, as if he could tell what Lee had been thinking. But he couldn't, could he? His collar was turned on now; he couldn't read their thoughts anymore. "Let's try something a little bit different," Vincent suggested without missing a beat. "This time, I'm not going to attack you. You're going to attack me." A hint of a smile crossed his face.

"As soon as you can find me."


Mack Urban, 37

It didn't take them long to find him.

Mack turned his attention to one of the other cameras as the four contestants tackled Vincent – a bit more forcefully than he'd been expecting, from the look of it, but there was a satisfied smile on his face as he emerged from the pile, making sure to kick one of them gently in the back of the leg as soon as they turned their back on him, just to drive the message home: don't turn your back on an opponent.

Mack glanced at the other screens. Penelope was working with Manaka and Marcus, Ian with Frederick, Seb, and Alphonso. Maria, however, was alone; Lea had apparently refused to come to her session again, as had Elio earlier. Jamie had come to their session with Vincent yesterday, however; that was progress.

Not that it really mattered, in the end. There had been a couple contestants the year before who had refused to fight, and it hadn't changed anything in the long run. They had died. It was that simple. Fight or die. Of course, most of the people who fought also died, but at least they had a chance.

"Checking up on Vincent?" The voice behind him caught him by surprise. Mack turned to see Lilian, her gaze flicking from screen to screen, taking it all in.

Mack shrugged. "He shouldn't be causing any more trouble. And in a few years, we won't have to worry about those three causing problems at all."

Lilian raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

Mack leaned back in his chair. "Once this gets moving – really moving – contestants are going to want coaches who have actually fought in the Games. The other three are doing the best they can, of course, just like they did last year. But in the end, there's nothing that can really compare to having the actual experience of being in the Games. Wouldn't surprise me if Penelope's contestants do better this year because of that alone."

Lilian shook her head. "I think you're overestimating the impact that training really has. We both know this is more for the purpose of making them feel prepared than it is for actually getting them ready."

"It is now," Mack agreed. "In a few years, though, once everything's really in place … then we'll be able to make some improvements. Look at everything we've managed to do this year. The talent show was a huge success."

"Your huge success nearly turned the building into goo."

"I didn't say it was perfect. Everything can be improved. That's the important thing – to keep improving, rather than let the fear of failure stop us in our tracks. All three of our older coaches are asking the contestants to try things they never would have thought of last year." He rolled one of the cameras back a few hours. "Do you think Vincent would have asked Kiara to try that last year?"

Lilian watched the recording for a moment before shaking her head. "Holy shit."

"Exactly. He wouldn't have thought of that. Maria might not have thought of suggesting that Sybil should use her starlight to block the other contestants' vision. Ian wouldn't be pushing Seb as hard as he is right now. They still don't have the experience, but they're all better coaches because of what happened last year, because they really understand the price of failure."

"But most of them will still fail," Lilian pointed out.

"Of course they will. Which will make them even more determined to succeed next year, and the year after. And eventually, we'll have enough survivors that we can use them as the only coaches, and we won't have to worry that one of our original three might be leaking some information to the outside." He shook his head. "Eventually, we won't have to worry about leaks at all – which is why this one isn't as worrisome as they probably think it is."

"How so?"

"Perspective, Lilian. Look at the big picture. What have they actually managed to accomplish? A few of our potential contestants disappeared before we could collect them. So what? We just picked new ones. It doesn't matter; there are plenty of them out there to choose from. And once my plan for mutant colonies goes through, it'll be even harder for them to run, harder for them to disappear. Yes, a handful here and there might still slip through the cracks, but that just isn't important in the grand scheme of things." He shook his head. "The avalanche has started; it is too late for the pebbles to vote."

"What?"

"Something a colleague told me once. Things are moving too quickly, too furiously, to be stopped now. Last year, they might have stood a chance, which is why we had to make the deal we did in order to keep things moving. This year, it's just too late. They missed their chance." He shook his head.

"And for their sakes, I hope they're willing to accept that."


"Only we can protect each other ... We must be united and strong, and willing to deal with the humans as they would deal with us."