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

Note: All right, here's our last bit of pre-training ... stuff. There's a poll up on my profile asking which contestants are your favorite. Feel free to vote for your own tribute(s) - I don't exactly have a way to stop you - but please don't only vote for your own. If your own tribute(s) are the only one(s) you like, I'm doing something wrong. Vote for as many or as few as you like. I put the cap at 29 (because it won't let you set it up so people can vote for everyone), but that doesn't mean you have to vote for 29. This one won't really have an effect on anything, aside from letting me know who might need a bit more screen time. The sponsor poll will be up about halfway through training, because there really isn't anything (yet) between training and the Games in this 'verse.

Informative

March 16th, 16:49 MST
Calpet, WY

Penelope – 098, 13

She had to admit she was curious.

Penelope took her place beside the other coaches as the contestants began to file into the chairs facing the end of the room. It wasn't much of a stage, maybe, but that didn't really matter. This wasn't about the lights or the trappings or the look of the thing. Not yet. In a few years, maybe. Once the government went public with what was really going on here, she had no doubt that this little talent show would be broadcast just like the rest of the Games. It was only a matter of time.

For now, though, the focus was on what the contestants could do, not how impressive they looked while doing it. And for now at least, participation was voluntary, which added a whole different level to the exercise. Not only would the contestants get to see who was comfortable enough to share what they could do in front of the whole group, but also who was willing to take the initiative and volunteer to go first, and who would wait until a few other people had decided to go first.

There was no right answer, of course. There were benefits and drawbacks to sharing what they could do immediately, just as there were to waiting longer or to refusing to participate at all. She couldn't help but wonder what she would have done, given the option. What would the other contestants last year have done? Would it have changed anything that happened in the Games if they had known from the start what the others could do?

Maybe. If they had known from the start that Ky's power had the kind of range it had, and that he was prepared to use it, they might have been a bit more wary about exactly when they'd jumped out of the plane at the start of the Games. Ky had shot down several contestants before they'd even had a chance to reach the ground, including one of her own allies, Rachel. How different would the Games have been if she had lived, if there had been three of them at the start rather than just her and Monet?

Penelope shook the thought from her head. It didn't really matter what she would have done. The only reason it had occurred to her at all was because one of the contestants had asked earlier. This hadn't been an option for her last year, but things had worked out all right in the end. Or at least, they had worked out for her, and that was the important thing right now.

In fact, the fact that she had survived would probably make things better for some of the contestants this year. She had at least some experience with the sort of training that could help some of them better control their powers. That was probably part of the reason she was still here, and Piper was … well, wherever Piper was, probably trying to figure out the best way to disrupt this year's Games without causing trouble for herself and whoever she was working with.

Penelope crossed her arms, waiting for the announcement that was probably coming soon. It didn't matter what Piper was doing. Whatever it was, it wouldn't work. She'd managed to snatch a few of their potential contestants out of harm's way, but it hadn't made any difference. They'd simply found suitable replacements, and even two extra contestants to boot. It didn't matter what Piper did, or what any of the others tried to do.

Nothing could stop the Games.

Seb Krause, 16

He couldn't stop shaking.

Seb glanced around at the other contestants as several members of the MAAB made their way to the front of the room. Or was it the back? Whichever way their chairs were facing now, anyway. He drummed his fingers on his leg, trying to focus. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to do any of this, and he certainly didn't want to go along with the people who had killed his uncle and pretend that he was ready to play their game. But at the same time, there was something – some nagging thought in the back of his head – something that kept telling him that this was the right move, that he had to participate.

"You all right?" The voice caught him by surprise as a boy took a seat beside him.

Seb shook his head. "About as much as any of us, I guess," he mumbled.

"I'm Alphonso." The boy held out his hand.

Seb glanced down at his hand. No reason to be rude. It wasn't the other boy's fault that they were both here, that his uncle was dead, that he would probably be dead soon. "Seb." He shook Alphonso's hand. "Are you planning to…?" He nodded towards the front of the room, not quite sure how to finish the sentence. Are you planning to go along with this? Are you planning to show off? Are you planning to scare people with what you can do?

Alphonso shook his head. "Mine's not much of a visual thing, really. I can sense people's emotions, tell what they're feeling. Not exactly the sort of thing that would play well onstage." He cocked his head. "What about you? Want to give it a go?"

Seb hesitated. Part of him did. One of the men at the front of the room – Alvin, he was pretty sure he'd said his name was – was giving a little introduction about how this was going to work, but Seb was already getting to his feet. "Can … Can I go first?"

Alvin's good eye briefly flew to where Judah was standing on the far side of the room. Judah shrugged. "So much for formality," he reasoned.

"So it would seem," Alvin muttered, his voice tense. "Come on up, Seb."

Seb rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably as he made his way to the front of the room. Alvin sounded a bit upset, but he was probably just nervous. Nervous about what he knew Seb could do. Seb looked away. He was nervous, too. It had been a while since he'd done this. Would it still work? No, that was a silly thought. Of course it would still work. It wasn't like remembering how to … What? Ride a bike? It wasn't ever something he'd really tried to do. He'd never wanted to be a mutant. He'd never wanted any of this.

But there was no getting away from it now. Seb's eyes flicked up as he turned to Alvin. "Do you have a pen? Or a pencil? Something to write with, anyway?"

Alvin handed him a pen, and one of the blank postcards left over from earlier in the day. There was a squirrel on the front. Alvin pressed a button on some sort of remote in his hand. "Whenever you're ready."

He wasn't ready. He would probably never be ready. But he had to do this. Seb glanced at the other contestants, at the boy who had been sitting next to him. Alphonso smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. Seb took a deep breath and wrote the word squirrel.

Immediately, a squirrel appeared, racing away from him and the other contestants. Alvin nodded to one of the others, the woman who had introduced herself as Anita, and the back wall began to roll up into the ceiling, allowing the squirrel to escape. "Whoa!" Alphonso called. "You can make pictures come to life?"

Seb shook his head. "Not pictures." A squirrel had just happened to be what was on the postcard. He held up the card, tilting it so the others could see what he had written. Then he wrote, slowly so they could see, apple. Immediately, an apple appeared and dropped into his hand. Seb glanced up at Alphonso, who was grinning, beginning to put the pieces together, maybe figuring out that someone who could make food materialize out of thin air would be very useful in a survival situation. "Any requests?" he asked shakily, glancing around at the others. A voice called out over the murmuring.

"How about a knife?"

Frederick Bouvy, 17

"How about a knife?"

Frederick leaned back in his seat as the boy hesitated. It had seemed like a natural enough suggestion to him. They were in a fight, after all – a fight to the death. It would certainly be useful to have weapons. Seb's gaze flickered over to a boy in the front row, who nodded encouragingly. Were they working together?

Seb wrote something on the paper – presumably the word knife – and a knife appeared in the air. He made a move to catch it, but instead it clattered to the floor. Embarrassed, he plucked it off the ground and handed it to Alvin. "Sorry, I … I wasn't sure if it would work. I've never tried to make a weapon. I…" He shuffled back to his seat beside the other boy before he could get any farther. There was a click as Alvin pressed a button on the remote, but Seb didn't seem particularly interested in using his power to try to escape.

Not yet, anyway. But if he could create food and weapons out of thin air, he could be useful, no matter how reluctant he was to participate. Frederick leapt to his feet. "I'd like to go next." He didn't wait to see whether Alvin would agree; he simply hurried to the front of the room before anyone else could get there. This was his chance to show that he would be useful as an ally. "I'll take that apple, if you don't mind." He held up his hand, and Seb tossed it to him.

A quiet click told him his collar was off. Carefully, he took off one of his gloves and touched the apple, which immediately started melting into goo. He heard several gasps, and then the obvious question, this time coming from the boy beside Seb. "Does that happen to people if you touch them?"

He'd been ready for that question. Frederick shrugged in a manner he hoped looked nonchalant. "I know it works on mice." It was a lie, but hopefully a convincing one. He'd never tried it on anything alive before. He'd never wanted to, never had any reason to. He'd done his best to use his power responsibly, but look where that had gotten him.

It was time to stop playing by the rules.

Frederick turned to Alvin, who instinctively took a step back, his finger poised over the button on the remote that would turn the collar back on. Frederick scoffed. "I'm not going to hurt you. Toss me the knife."

Alvin relaxed a little and gently tossed the knife in Frederick's direction. He didn't catch it – merely touched it as it flew through the air. It landed as a puddle of goo on the other side of the room. The boy next to Seb whispered something, and Seb tossed the pen into the air. Frederick grinned as he reached out and gave it the slightest tap as it passed his head. Still grinning, he reached down and gave one of the floor tiles a tap.

Immediately, it began melting, and then the one next to it, and the one next to that. Shit. He'd never tried touching the floor before. He hadn't wanted to make his house melt, after all. But he'd gotten carried away—

Click. His collar turned back on, but the floor tiles kept melting. "Shit," Alvin muttered as the goo continued to spread. "Back up, everybody. Should've seen that one coming."

Frederick stared. He'd thought the floor would stop melting once his collar was back on. He'd never tried to melt anything that big before. Would it stop once it hit the walls? The roof?

"Over here, everybody," Alvin called, pressing a button on his remote. Immediately, a door opened in the wall, and everybody raced out into the fresh air. Frederick breathed a sigh of relief as he looked around. It looked like everybody had made it, and the woman in the doctor's uniform had even grabbed the postcards off the table.

Frederick glanced around again. If someone hadn't made it, that would have been good, wouldn't it? Or would the MAAB have been upset at him for killing someone before the Games even began? Would the goo even have killed them? He wasn't really sure. Frederick peered back into the room. It did seem to have stopped now, now that it had hit the walls of the room. Maybe they were made of a different material. Behind him, he could hear someone chuckling softly.

"So much for them knowing what they're doing, huh?"

Kiara Moore, 15

She hadn't meant to say it out loud.

Kiara stopped laughing just as the other boy turned, maybe worried that she had been laughing at him. But she hadn't. His power certainly wasn't funny, but their response. They seriously hadn't thought that someone who could melt things wouldn't try to melt down the building they were in? Or maybe they had, and that was why they'd positioned the "stage," so to speak, far enough away from the walls. But they hadn't thought about the floor.

Neither had she, of course, but she hadn't been sitting around for weeks or months or however long they'd been at this, trying to decide on the best mutants to pick for the Games, trying to work out ways to contain them, to control their powers. They had, and they still hadn't thought of it.

She wondered what else they hadn't thought of.

The boy turned around, satisfied that no one was still laughing, but another one of the contestants caught her gaze and nodded. One of the younger ones – about her age. "You're right, you know. I don't think they know what they're doing at all. Not that we do either, but…"

"But we just found out this morning what we're actually here for," Kiara finished.

"Exactly."

Before Kiara could say anything else, however, one of the smaller girls made her way to the front of the group. "Are we proceeding?"

Alvin shrugged. "You want to go next, Florence?"

Florence shook her head. "The three of us do." She gestured to the pair behind her – a girl and a boy.

Alvin gave that a moment's thought. "No funny business."

"Funnier than liquefying the floor?" Florence countered.

"Fair point." He pressed a button, and the girl called Florence immediately began to change. Her arms sprouted into wings, her whole body shrinking, growing fur, lifting off the ground. Kiara stared. A bat. At the same time, the other girl was growing larger, also sprouting fur, a snout extending from her face. A wolf. And the boy … She could barely see the boy, he was running so fast.

It took Kiara a moment to realize she was grinning. She couldn't help it. She'd never even met another mutant until yesterday, and now … Werewolves, vampires, a kid who could run faster than humanly possible. It was like something out of a story, one of those really old ones her mother used to tell her. What if all the old legends, the folk stories, the ones people dismissed as tall tales – what if all of them were really about mutants?

Kiara clenched her fists. That made it worse, somehow – the idea that they'd been around all this time, and humans were still scared of them. If all of the heroes from her childhood stories had really been mutants, if people like her had contributed so much to culture and civilization around the world, and they were still being hunted and treated like animals … No, that idea didn't make it any better.

Nothing would, of course. No matter what they did, no matter what they thought of the situation, they were still trapped in a fight to the death. "What about you?" the mutant beside her asked quietly as they watched the bat, the wolf, and the blur of movement in front of them, racing back and forth, this way and that. Never too far away, though – never far enough to make it look like they were trying to escape.

They probably weren't. But scouting out the area … maybe. How far could a wolf see or smell? How far away would a bat's echolocation work? Wherever the MAAB was planning to have them fight, was it somewhere around here? Close enough to get a feel for what sort of environment they might be dropped into, at least?

Maybe. There were mountains in the distance. Trees. But other than that, there didn't seem to be much around. Which was probably the idea – to keep them as far away from towns and people as they could. Kiara shook her head as she finally processed what the other contestant had asked. "What about me?"

"Planning to show off?"

Kiara shook her head. She'd thought about it, but the idea of using her power to attract allies – that was just opening herself up to be taken advantage of. She was sick of people coming to her for help, just wanting her around so that they could make use of her ability to heal them, and offering nothing in return. Of course, most of these people would have something to offer in return, but she wanted to figure out what some of those 'something's were before they came running to her for help.

She could afford to wait.

Fae Tomasini, 13

She couldn't wait to see what some of the others could do.

Fae grinned as the three of them turned back into their human shapes. Well, two of them turned back, at least; the third just slowed down so that they could actually see him properly. It was … Well, it was amazing, if she was being honest with herself. It had almost been enough to make her forget what was really going on, if only for a moment. It was like being at the circus, or the movies. It was almost like a show.

Before she could stop herself, Fae was racing to the front of the group. "Looks like we have another volunteer," Alvin observed, pressing the button on his remote before she'd even reached the front. Clearly, he wasn't worried about her, which made sense. The people in charge had hand-picked her and the others; obviously, they knew what she could do. They knew she wasn't going to hurt them.

But that didn't mean that she couldn't have a little fun.

Fae took a deep breath and began to sing the first thing that had come to her mind. It was Ave Maria, one of the first songs she'd learned in her church choir. A few chuckles near the front of the group quickly died away as her voice floated across the crowd of mutants, calming them, easing the tension, if only for a moment. One by one, she could see them start to relax, the frustration and anxiety leaving their expressions.

Near the front of the group, off to one side, she could see one of the older girls mouthing along the words to the song. Fae recognized her as the girl who had come to talk to her earlier – the one who had suggested that they simply refuse to fight, and they could all go home. Lea. That was her name. Fae had wanted to believe it. She still did. But now, after having seen what some of the other mutants could do, what they were ready to do…

She didn't want to fight. She probably would never really want to. But if she wanted to get out of this alive, she would have to. She would have to find a way to fight, even if her power wasn't the most … well, intimidating.

Et in hora mortis nostrae.

The last few notes of the song danced through the air as Fae's gaze fell on a man standing near the back of the group. One of the coaches – her coach, she realized, seeing his purple outfit that matched hers. He was nodding along with the song, a half-smile making its way across his face. As the last note faded away, he began clapping quietly. A few of the others caught on, and soon, about half of the other contestants were applauding.

Fae blushed, but she was beaming as she returned to her spot in the crowd. Someone gave her a pat on the shoulder. One of the younger boys gave her a high five. It was almost … fun.

Almost.

But not quite. It hadn't quite been enough to make her forget what they were really doing there. Once the Games started, the same people who were cheering for her now would be trying to kill her. She couldn't afford to forget that. These people were dangerous – or at least, some of them were. People who could turn into bats and wolves and who could melt the floor into goo just by touching it. Those were things that would be useful in a fight. Once this little show was over, would any of them really care how well she could sing?

Still, the applause felt good. It felt good to have her mutation be recognized as something enjoyable. Sure, her parents had always told her that it was a gift, but how many other people would really see it that way? Her power was relatively harmless, of course; there were mutants here who were much more dangerous. But still, at least for a moment, they had enjoyed what she could do.

And that had felt good.

Makenzie Norwood, 16

It felt good to smile.

Makenzie kept clapping, along with several of the other contestants, as the younger girl headed back to her place. The applause felt almost natural, almost human, and that was something she hadn't felt since she'd left South Carolina the day before. Finally, something here felt real. Something felt right.

And now she wanted more.

Makenzie made her way to the front of the crowd as the applause began to die down. "I … I'd like to go next."

The click came almost immediately. He wasn't worried. There was no reason for him – or any of them – to be afraid. Makenzie gave a little wave, and her shadow detached itself from the ground, soaring above her head, then above the heads of the other contestants. A few of them ducked as it flew lower, but one of the girls, curious, reached up and touched it as it flew past, giggling a little as her hand passed through the shadow. The girl hurried to the front of the crowd, and Makenzie heard another soft click.

Almost immediately, a bubble floated up towards her shadow – thin and wispy and beautiful. Makenzie grinned, flicked her wrist a little, and the shadow circled down to give the bubble a little tap. To her surprise, it didn't burst. She turned to the other girl, beaming. "Can you make more?"

The other girl nodded, and soon, the shadow was surrounded in bubbles, bouncing off every which way as she gave them a little tap. Finally, one by one, they merged together into one larger bubble, about the size of a watermelon. Makenzie waved her hand and began folding her shadow smaller and smaller, until it fit inside the bubble. The other girl held out her hand for a high five, and Makenzie obliged.

Suddenly, another girl stepped out of the crowd. "Think it would fit around me?"

The bubble-making girl hesitated. "I don't know. They usually don't get that big."

Click. Makenzie thought for a moment that Alvin had turned her collar back on, but no, her shadow was still floating inside the bubble. It took her a moment to realize what was happening – that the girl in front of her was shrinking, compressing, folding in on herself. Smaller and smaller, until she was only a little bit bigger than the bubble floating above her head. She grinned playfully. "How about now?"

Makenzie slid her shadow out of the bubble as the other girl waved a few more into existence, grouping them together into one larger bubble and carefully surrounding the folded-up girl. Makenzie nearly clapped her hands with delight as the bubble lifted off the ground a little. It was almost like something out of a book. In fact, she was pretty sure she had read a book as a child where someone got flattened and could be folded up and sent through the mail, or fly like a kite.

Sure enough, the bubble flew a little higher. Then a little more. Makenzie glanced at the other girl, who seemed to be having trouble making it go any higher. But the girl inside the bubble was beaming. "Higher! Can you go higher?"

Not wanting to disappoint, the other girl sent the bubble a little higher, well over their heads. But it seemed to be flickering, fading a little bit. Makenzie braced herself, her shadow hovering a little below the bubble, ready to break the girl's fall if the bubble burst. It should be able to take the weight; she'd used it in their school's production of Peter Pan to do exactly that. But that had all been under her control. If the other girl dropped suddenly—

The bubble flickered a little more. Makenzie could see the other girl trying to bring it down softly, but there wasn't enough time. The bubble burst, and the other girl landed perfectly in Makenzie's shadow. It didn't completely break her fall, but it slowed it, and when the other girl got to her feet and unfolded herself, she was grinning. "That was amazing! Let's do it again."

Makenzie glanced over at the other girl, who shook her head. "I don't think we should – not right now, anyway. It takes a lot of energy, and—"

"During training, then?" the other girl asked.

The girl with the bubbles stared. "You want to … to train together?"

"Hell yes." She held out her hand. "Evelyn."

"Kylena." She shook it, then turned to Makenzie. "You in?"

"You want me?" Makenzie couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice. She hadn't been expecting to find any allies this quickly. Her power wouldn't exactly be useful in a fight. But bubbles and being able to fold up into a smaller shape weren't exactly the most intimidating powers, either. Makenzie nodded, shaking Kylena's hand.

"I'm in."

Manaka Shizue, 15

"I'm in."

Manaka watched silently as the three girls faded back into the crowd together. They'd made it look so easy – showing what they could do, immediately finding a group to work together with. And the three who had been working together earlier – the wolf, the bat, and the fast runner – they had seemed to fit so naturally together. Why couldn't he find someone like that?

Maybe because he hadn't tried.

Manaka crossed his arms. He'd been thinking about trying, but then the other boy had gone and done exactly the same thing he had been planning to do – running around really fast. He wasn't sure if the other boy was just fast or if his power had something to do with time like his own, but maybe it didn't really matter, as long as the result was the same. If other people knew he could do the same thing…

Then what? The other boy had clearly already figured out who he would be working with. Anyone else who wasn't one of those three might actually be looking for someone else who could do the same thing. Who better to run away from someone really fast than someone else who could run really fast? Maybe it was worth giving it a shot…

No one else seemed to be racing up to volunteer, either. Alvin took a look around at the crowd. "Anybody else?"

Instinctively, Manaka raised his hand. Alvin chuckled. "This isn't school, Manaka. You don't need to raise your hand. Come on up." Manaka heard a soft click as his collar turned off. "Don't do anything stupid," Alvin muttered under his breath.

Manaka hesitated. It definitely had occurred to him, once they had headed outside rather than giving their little demonstrations inside the building. He could run, but how far would he get before they turned his collar back on? Not far enough. He hadn't even been able to outrun Alvin for very long when he'd collected him for the Games.

No. No, this wasn't the time to run – not with everyone watching, not when they were waiting for him to try something. Maybe later, once they let their guards down. Maybe once the Games started, and everyone was paying attention to the flashier contestants who could turn into bears and wolves and fly around inside bubbles after folding themselves up. Maybe then he would be able to get away.

For now, he had to play along.

He took off running, but only in a circle around the group. He could see them watching him, but they all seemed to be moving so slowly in comparison. Manaka couldn't help a smile. He wasn't used to this. He was used to using his power in secret, trying to hide what he could do from everyone except Lei.

But now, showing them what he could do wouldn't put him in danger – at least, no more danger than he was already in. There was something almost freeing about not having to worry that people would find out what he could do. These people already knew he was a mutant. Maybe that meant the worst was over.

No. No, the worst was yet to come. The worst was when people started to die. But he didn't want to think about that yet. Manaka picked up the pace a little, but suddenly, as he neared the front of the group again, things felt a bit … off. There wasn't really another way to put it; things just felt wrong somehow. Lei had told him occasionally that if he used his power near someone else, it was a bit disorienting for a moment, a bit strange. Maybe this was what that felt like. But why—

Then he saw someone beside him – but not someone he was expecting. He'd thought, seeing the shape running next to him, that maybe it was the younger boy from the other group. But this boy was older – maybe eighteen or nineteen – and grinning widely. He gave Manaka a friendly punch on the shoulder. "Caught you."

Manaka stared as they ran. "You're like me."

"Technically, since I'm older, you're like me," the boy reasoned. "Marcus."

"Manaka."

"Thought I'd be the only one, until the other boy took off. Wonder how many of us there are."

"I don't know," Manaka admitted. "I hadn't really expected there to be this many. I thought I was the only one, too. I was worried about finding someone to work with and having to—"

"Leave them in the dust if things got bad?"

"Yeah."

Marcus smiled. "Looks like you won't have to."

Ansel Moore, 21

"Looks like it's our turn."

Ansel turned as two of the older contestants headed to the front of the group. Their collars clicked off almost immediately, and the boy turned to the rest of them. "I need a volunteer, actually – someone with a different colored shirt, that's all."

For a moment, there was silence. Apparently, no one wanted to be a guinea pig. After a moment, Alvin shook his head. "Look, if no one else wants to, I'm wearing a different—"

"I'll do it!" Ansel called before he could think twice. After all, Alvin knew what the other boy could do, and he'd been willing to volunteer. The older boy smiled as Ansel stepped out of the crowd, his collar clicking off almost immediately. "What do you need me to do?"

"Just stand still," the other boy instructed. "What's your name?"

"Ansel."

"I'm Lee, and this is Elena." He placed a hand gently on Ansel's shoulder. Ansel almost shrank away, but then he realized something was happening to the shirt. Slowly, very slowly, the yellow was draining out of it. Ansel looked around. Where was it going? It seemed to be going into the other boy's skin. After a few moments, the color had completely drained from his shirt, leaving it a pale grey.

Then Lee gave a little squeeze, and another color flowed in – the blue from his own shirt. But not all of it, and not as dark. Once he'd finished, both their shirts were about half as bright as the original blue. Ansel grinned as the yellow drained from Lee's skin and flowed into their shirts, coloring them both a shade of green. "Wow," he whispered.

Lee glanced over at Elena, who was grinning, but showed no sign of doing anything herself. "What about you?" he asked.

Elena winced. "I've been trying." She turned to Lee. "I told you I can't do it on command. It only happens when I'm scared. I…"

Ansel focused for a moment, turning his attention out to the crowd. She just needed someone to scare her. That couldn't be that hard, considering the powers some of these other mutants had. "Look at me." Ansel took a step towards her, shaking off Lee's hand, circling around Elena so that her back was to the crowd. "Someone out there is about to come and do something very nasty unless you start doing … whatever it is you're trying to do."

Elena shook her head. "Look, thank you for trying, but—"

Before she could finish the sentence, though, a pair of hands was around her throat. "Oh, he's not the one you have to be worried about. Just a little squeeze in the right place, and—"

The girl didn't get to finish the sentence. Elena squirmed out of her grasp, her fingers turning into some sort of metal, and nearly punched the girl in the face. If she hadn't ducked, she would have gotten quite a headache. The other girl took a step back, holding up her hands. "Okay, easy. Easy. I'm not going to hurt you."

"What were you going to do?" Elena asked, her voice a bit shaky.

The other girl shrugged. "Squeeze a bit, I guess, until you got it together. Look, I don't know what I was thinking. I just…" She turned to Ansel, putting it together. "That was you, wasn't it? The idea. Is that what you do – give people ideas?"

Ansel nodded. "More or less. Inspiration inducement. I … inspire people."

"Quaint."

"What about you?"

The girl hesitated. After a moment, she shrugged. "I guess I scare people pretty well."

"That's your power? Scaring people?"

She tapped her collar. "Not even turned on. I couldn't have hurt her. No more than anybody else with their hands around her neck."

Lee nodded. "Smart."

"Thanks."

Elena nodded. "Think you might want to…?" She let the question hang in the air, but gestured to herself, Lee, and Ansel.

The girl glanced at the three of them. "You're all working together?"

Ansel looked hopefully at Lee and Elena, who nodded. "If that's what you want," Lee agreed. Ansel nodded. That's what they'd been hoping for when they'd asked for a volunteer. They'd been hoping that someone would join them. Lee could probably just as easily have pulled the color out of something else, but he hadn't. They'd been looking for someone else to join them.

The girl hesitated. "You don't even know what I can do."

"We know you're quick on your feet," Lee pointed out. "What's your name?"

"Liv. And it's Lee, Elena, and Ansel, right?"

"Right," Ansel agreed. "So what do you think?"

Liv still seemed a bit hesitant. "Let's … train a bit together and see how it goes."

Ansel nodded as they rejoined the crowd. That made sense. Of course it made sense. He'd been so eager to find someone to work with, he hadn't really thought about training. He'd never really needed to practice what he could do before; it just sort of happened, sometimes without him even realizing it. It might be fun to have some time just to practice.

And some people to practice with.

Sybil Herveaux, 21

It was pretty obvious why they'd wanted people to work with.

Sybil shook her head as the four of them melted back into the crowd. It was pretty pathetic, really, but maybe it made sense. Maybe the older the contestants were, the lamer their powers were going to be. Maybe that was the idea – to level the playing field a bit. Draining the color from something? What kind of a power was that? And being able to turn into a robot was certainly better, but the poor girl didn't seem to have any control over it. And inspiring people? Really? Unless the other girl's power was something pretty astounding, the four of them weren't likely to last long at all.

Sybil shook her head as Alvin glanced around the crowd one more time, searching for anyone else who might want to show off. She certainly wasn't about to go up there. Sure, her power wasn't all that dangerous either, but at least she had the sense not to let anyone know that her power wasn't dangerous. For all anyone else knew, she could kill them all with a single thought.

She couldn't, of course. It wasn't likely that any of the others could, either, considering they'd all been captured and brought in without too much trouble. Which ruled out some especially dangerous powers, perhaps, but that wasn't really much comfort.

Comfort. That was the wrong word. She wasn't looking for comfort. She was looking for someone. Someone who would be able to protect her, someone she could use to work her way out of this. Ideally, one of the coaches would be in a better position to help her, but none of them had seemed particularly willing to even entertain the idea of interfering with the Games. Oh, they would help her train, to be sure, but they didn't have any reason to favor her over any of the other contestants. And she had no leverage.

Not with them, at least. And not with any of the members of the MAAB. Not yet. There was still time, but not a lot of it. She only had a matter of days before she would be fighting for her life, and she intended to make the most of it, not waste it hoping for someone else to come along and join her in having fun. No, she already had her eye on a target. The tricky part would be getting him to be interested in her.

She wasn't used to thinking of that as the tricky part. In ordinary circumstances, all she would need to do was be herself, and maybe sprinkle a little starlight into her appearance to make herself even more attractive. And that would be it. Her target would be head over heels for her without so much as a word. It has worked with Virgil.

She had thought it had worked with Isaac.

Maybe that was why she was hesitating now, rather than simply approaching her target and introducing herself. Isaac hadn't even had a reason to betray her, and he had. He'd turned her in without a second thought. Now … anyone in the Games would have a very good reason to turn on her, if it came down to it, unless there was a chance that they would be the last two.

Which was why she could only pick one. One target. One man worthy of her attention. And she was fairly certain she had already found him. Oh, there were some who hadn't given a demonstration yet, but anyone who was that hesitant about showing what he could do wasn't worth her time, anyway. So unless someone else stepped up soon…

No. No, even that wouldn't be good enough. Deciding at the last second that maybe he wanted to participate wasn't something that she was looking for, either. She needed someone who was willing to jump right in, someone who wouldn't hesitate to shake things up, someone perfect for her needs.

Sybil smiled as Alvin called out for volunteers one more time. She'd made up her mind. All that was left now was the chase, the suspense, the victory.

This was going to be fun.

Henry Helstrom, 14

"All right. You've had your fun."

Henry turned at the sound of the voice – one of the contestants who had spoken up earlier in the day. Elio, they were pretty sure. Two of the other contestants were standing next to Elio, arms crossed. "That's fourteen people you've conned into playing along with your little game," the girl next to him agreed. "Isn't that enough?"

Alvin shook his head. "Look, no one is forcing anyone to participate. But I think your count's a little off. I'm counting sixteen."

Lea rolled her eyes. "Thought you said you were good at math."

Henry sighed. They didn't like this any more than anyone else did, but there was a difference between not going along with what their captors wanted and just being obnoxious about it. What the hell. They took a step towards the front of the crowd. "I guess you've got your sixteen."

Alvin nodded. "Looks like I do … and then one extra." He pressed a button, and Henry's collar clicked off.

One extra? What was that supposed to mean? They'd figured out that Alvin had probably been counting Liv, even though she hadn't demonstrated whatever power was, but that only made fifteen, didn't it? Oh, well. Maybe it wasn't important right now. Henry waved a hand, and immediately a little figure began to form out of the dirt below them. Obediently, the little creature jumped up into Henry's waiting hand. Then another. Then another. Each about the size of one of Henry's fingers.

They could make bigger ones, of course, but there was no reason to give that away. Henry gave one of the little golems a wink, and it raced out into the waiting crowd. A few of the other contestants immediately slid out of the way, as if the little creature might explode or something, but one of them – the girl who had been talking to Henry earlier – picked it up and tossed it back to them, unimpressed. It landed on Henry's shoulder and slid down their arm before landing on the ground below.

Henry gave a wave, and the rest of the golems went scampering out into the crowd, running this way and that, clambering over people's shoes and tugging on their pants. People were smiling. Laughing. Good. That was what they would remember – that the show had ended with smiles and laughter, rather than a couple angry contestants grumbling about how many people had cooperated.

Maybe the MAAB would be grateful for that.

Henry snapped their fingers, and immediately, the golems melted back into the ground, as if they had never been there. Alvin gave a little clap, and a couple of the others joined in. "I think that's a wrap for tonight, then," Alvin called. "Get some more food if you want it, get some sleep, and be ready for training tomorrow." He gave Henry a nod as he clicked their collar back on. "Thanks."

"Seventeen?"

"Pardon?"

"Where were you getting seventeen?" They held up their fingers, counting along. "The word-wizard, the one who left a bit of a mess on your floor, a vampire, a werewolf, a speedster, a singer, Peter Pan, Bubbles, Flat Stanley, two more speedsters, Bob Ross, a robot, an idea guy, whatever Liv can actually do. That's fifteen. I'm sixteen, not seventeen."

Alvin nodded. "You're missing one. But I wouldn't worry about that right now. Looks like someone wants to talk to you."

Henry turned towards where Alvin was looking, half-expecting to find Elio and Lea upset with them. Instead, two girls stood there – the singer and an older girl who hadn't participated. Behind them stood the girl they'd been talking to earlier, the one who had said the MAAB didn't really know what they were doing. The others were already heading back inside the building. Henry raised an eyebrow. "What?"

The older girl held out her hand. "Iola. I was talking to Fae here, and we think you've got the right idea. What's your name?"

"Henry." They stared at the girl's hand. "What do you mean, the right idea?"

"Playing the game."

"I didn't…" Henry started, before stopping themself short. They had. They hadn't really had a reason to demonstrate what they could do, but the timing – right after Elio and Lea had insisted on not playing – maybe that had made a point, set them up in opposition to … who? The people who didn't want this to happen? What did that make them?

Henry shook Iola's hand. "So what do you do?"

"Mimicry," Iola answered simply. "And I think you've already seen what Fae's capable of."

"Yeah, I bet this will be a very harmonious group."

Fae giggled. "Thanks."

Henry cocked their head as the two of them headed back towards the building. Then they turned to the other girl. "And?"

The girl smirked. "I know you were holding back."

"Okay." No point denying it, really.

"And I want in."

Henry shrugged. "Okay."

"That's it?"

"Well, it might be nice to know your name, but—"

"Kiara. You asked Iola what she could do."

Henry nodded. "Yeah."

"But not me?"

Henry shrugged. "I already know what you can do."

She could play.

Kylena Albright, 16

Two could play that game.

Kylena shook her head. "Bubbles. Bubbles? Who do they think they are? How would they like it if I called them Twigs because they can make a bunch of little sticks run around?"

Makenzie couldn't hide a giggle. "It really bothers you that much? They called me Peter Pan."

Kylena shook her head. "That's different." The three of them – her, Makenzie, and Evelyn – had decided to stay for a snack now that the floor had solidified again. But now Kylena was wishing they hadn't lingered quite so long outside. The three of them had been just within earshot while Henry had been rattling off the list of different contestants' powers, and … Bubbles?

Evelyn cocked her head. "How's it different? And who the hell is Flat Stanley anyway?"

"It's a book," Makenzie answered. "A kid's book about a boy who gets flattened when something falls on him, and he can fold up and fit into different spaces and be flown as a kite."

"Fair enough," Evelyn conceded. "I can't fold up that small, but—"

"But that's different," Kylena insisted, even though she couldn't quite put her finger on how it was different. "Bubbles just sounds so … so … "

"Fun?" Makenzie offered.

Kylena shook her head. "Harmless." That was it, really. It made her sound harmless. And the problem with that, of course, was that she was. Her power might be good as a defense. It had certainly been useful in the past. But as far as actually hurting anyone…

But that shouldn't bother her. She didn't want to hurt anyone anyway. But she would have to, if she wanted to survive.

"Mine's pretty harmless, too," Makenzie offered sympathetically. "Peter Pan's actually pretty accurate, though. I was in Peter Pan at my school."

Evelyn grinned. "Really?"

"Yeah. I played Wendy, and we used my shadow as Peter Pan's shadow."

Kylena raised an eyebrow. "And no one noticed?"

"Of course they noticed."

"So people … knew you were a mutant? And they didn't care?"

"Yeah. I mean, once they realized I wasn't going to hurt them, most people came around."

"Most? Is that how you ended up here? Someone turned you in?"

Makenzie shook her head. "No, I … I don't think so, at least. I mean, they probably had my name from when I registered."

Evelyn nearly spit out her drink. "You actually registered yourself?"

Makenzie nodded. "Everyone already knew anyway, so it didn't seem like there was any point trying to keep it a secret. And they always said they were only interested in keeping track of mutants who were dangerous, but…"

She let the sentence hang in the air. Kylena nodded along, but she still couldn't quite believe it. She'd kept her power secret for years, her parents had moved to a different state, all because they'd been convinced that if people knew what she could do, they'd hate her, fear her, turn her in to the government. And when Alvin had collected her, Nymeria … she'd been horrified at the thought that her sister was a mutant.

Kylena's gaze strayed to where the postcards had been on the table. They were gone now; maybe someone had thought to grab them when the floor had melted. She hadn't really known what to say to her sister. "And your family?" she ventured. "They didn't … mind?"

"It's just me and my mom, but no, she never seemed to mind. When I was little, she tried to get me to keep it secret, but … well, I guess I've never been very good with secrets."

Evelyn grinned. "Same, but my parents never stopped trying. My friends know, but my parents are real hard-asses about it. Convinced the government's going to appear and snag me just for existing. They'd be so smug if they knew they were right."

Kylena couldn't help a chuckle at that. "I guess they were right. My parents were always worried, too, but I thought we'd done enough. I thought we were safe." She shook her head. "I guess it'll never really be safe for people like us."

Mackenzie laid a hand gently on her arm. "Maybe not, but for now at least, we can keep each other as safe as we can."

Kylena nodded. That was it, really. That was all they could do. Try to protect each other as long as they could. But it wouldn't – couldn't – last forever. Because at best, only two of them could survive. And what were the chances that it would really be two of them?

Slim. The chances were slim. But slim was better than none, and it was all they had right now. Kylena nodded, finally managing a smile.

"That sounds good to me."

Cari Hughes, 17
Longlac, Ontario

This was not good.

Cari shook her head as she paced back and forth across her mother's kitchen floor. Her father had taken the first possible opportunity to ship her back to her mother's house. That part was okay. After what he and his wife had done, she would be more than happy to never set foot in Texas again. But the rest of it…

She'd only gotten brief flashes from Coburn, but maybe that was normal. She'd never tried to use her power from this far away before. But she kept trying, hoping that maybe he would realize she was listening in, that he wasn't alone. But what good was that if she couldn't do anything about it?

There had been a few things that had been clearer. A few words from people who were apparently 'coaches' near the beginning of the day. Enough to tell what was going on. Later, she'd caught a glimpse of some postcards – enough to tell that there were names on them. Maybe names that Coburn had wanted her to see. But they had been gone too quickly.

Cari clenched her fists. What did he want her to do? Even if she could remember some of the names, they had been addresses on postcards, not phone numbers or email addresses or something useful. Maybe she could use that information to search for them, but did he have any idea how many people had the same name? And if she said the wrong thing to the wrong person…

And even if she did find the right person, what was she supposed to do?

"Cari?"

It was her mother's voice, coming from the living room. But there was something else – a tension that wasn't usually there. Cari hurried to the living room, expecting … What? Someone from the government? More sentinels?

Instead, she saw a girl standing there in the doorway. A girl with wispy blonde hair and dark glasses. "She says she's here to see you," her mother explained. "I don't know what—"

The girl took a step forward, cutting her off. "I'm Piper. And you're Cari. Your brother is currently somewhere in Wyoming, about to be forced to participate in something called the X-Games. Thirty of them go in, two survive."

"How do you—"

"I was one of those two last year."

Cari blinked. She had a vague memory of what had happened at the end of the Games last year, but she hadn't really been paying that much attention. "So you're here to … what? Help him?"

"No. It's too late for that. Before the Games, we tried to interfere as much as we could, rescue people we knew would be taken, but your brother wasn't on any of the lists. I'm sorry. There's nothing we can do for him. If he survives, it'll be on his own."

"So what are you doing here?"

"I'm not here for him. I'm here for you."

Cari took a step back. "Me? They know about me, too? Are they coming for me?"

"No. At least, I don't think so. Your brother's power was a bit more … obvious. Yours, on the other hand, might be more useful, if you're willing to help us."

"Who's us?"

"A group of mutants who recognize that this is wrong, and want to do something about it."

"You're trying to stop the Games?"

"No. I already told you, it's too late for that. They tried that last year, but the Games were over before they could even get an accurate location for where they were taking place. We have a better idea this year, but we don't have the manpower to go in and stop the Games by force. We just don't, and we can't take the risk. We're not trying to start a war here, because that's a war we simply won't win."

Cari's head was spinning. "So what are you trying to do?"

Piper took a step closer. "We can't stop the Games … but we can expose them."

"To who?"

"Everyone. Mutants, humans, the whole country. The whole world. We can't stop it, but we can show it, and then … then we might have enough people to stop it."

"Might?"

"Only if people care, and are willing to do something." She held up her hand. "I know. Believe me, I know it's a huge if. But it's the only chance we have."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me. Join us. Use your power to help us. You can communicate with your brother in the Games – directly. That's useful."

"So you … you have someone you are communicating with," Cari realized. "Indirectly. You're looking for a better method of communication."

"We're looking for an additional method of communication. It's always good to have a backup plan, especially with something like this."

"Who are you communicating with?"

"That's classified."

Cari raised an eyebrow. "Classified? What is this, Mission Impossible?"

"Something like that."

"How do you know I can't just read your mind?"

"I don't."

"So then why won't you—"

"I don't know that you can't. I just know that you won't."

"What?"

"That's my power, Cari. I see the future – the immediate future – in the area around me. If you were going to read my mind in the next few minutes, I would have seen it. After that, I can't be sure, but that seems like enough time for me to explain why you shouldn't, even if you can."

Cari crossed her arms. "I'm listening."

"If I tell you, you might tell your brother. It would be comforting information, after all – to know that there's someone he can trust, someone who's working with us. But it could also be dangerous. He could give us away."

"He wouldn't—"

"I'm sure he wouldn't want to. I'm sure he wouldn't do it on purpose. But all it would take would be one wrong move. One wrong word, or even one wrong glance, in the wrong place, at the wrong moment, and he could give the whole game away. And then we wouldn't be able to help anyone."

"You already said you weren't going to help him."

"We're not. But this is bigger than him. Just like it was bigger than me. We can't stop this year's Games. But maybe – just maybe – if we work together, we can stop it from happening again. If it works, that's hundreds of lives saved. Maybe thousands. It's only a chance, but it's the only chance we have."

Cari hesitated. Piper sounded almost like she was trying to convince herself. "Do you think this is going to work?"

"I want it to."

"That's not what I asked."

"I know. But it's what matters. And there aren't a lot of better options right now – for either of us."

Cari nodded. "All right. I'm in."

Piper tapped something near her ear. "Snowy Owl to Nightcrawler. I've got her. Meet you at the rendezvous point."

Cari raised an eyebrow. "Snowy Owl?"

Piper blushed. "My code name. I'm trying it out, at least. Because owls can see in the dark? What do you think?"

"Who's Nightcrawler?"

"He was here in case we needed a quick exit, but I don't think anyone realized I was here. I don't draw as much attention as some people do."

Cari nodded. That was true enough. Just from looking at her, she'd never have known Piper was a mutant. Of course, the same was true about her. And Coburn, as long as he could keep from burning things up.

Piper turned to Cari's mother with almost exact precision. "You coming?"

"Of course. But I'm not a…"

"Mutant?" Piper finished. "That's all right. Neither's one of our leaders."

Cari breathed a sigh of relief. "So you're not—"

"In charge? No. Just a good scout. Now come on. Just because no one's noticed yet doesn't mean they won't. Let's get out of here."

Cari followed Piper out the door, her mother close behind. A car was waiting outside. "Really?" Cari asked. "I was expecting something a little more…"

"A little more Mission Impossible?" Piper offered. "Yeah, you'll get used to it. Hop in." Piper climbed in the passenger's seat. "Sure you won't let me drive?"

"Five minutes," answered a voice in a thick German accent. "Magneto said once you can hold your vision for five minutes into the future with distractions, then I can let you drive. Unless you're with him."

"Because he can just stop the car if something goes wrong," Piper agreed, smirking. "Fair's fair. His car, his rules." Silence. "Cari, you all right?"

"Mm-hmm," Cari lied, her expression frozen. Carefully neutral. She glanced at her mother, but she hadn't realized. Maybe she hadn't put the name into place yet. She'd never followed American news as carefully as Cari had. Cari took a deep breath and fastened her seat belt.

This was going to be even more dangerous than she'd thought.

"All-in-all, I'd say the test was most informative."