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

Note: Well, it's been a little over five years, but here we are, at the end of the story. Thank you to everyone who's stuck with it. I hope you've had as much fun as I have.

But this isn't the end of this 'verse, because now I've set up too many plot threads that I just can't leave alone. So expect a third X-Games installment once I get a bit farther in Failures are Forever - probably somewhere around the start of the Games. In the meantime, here's one last look at what our mutants are up to.

Heroes

Dr. Alvin Mendelson, 61
April 4, 18:45 MST

"You could have just asked."

Alvin shrugged as Nicholas paced the room. "And what would you have said?"

"I would have said yes, of course. It's not as if you were doing anything dangerous. You took them to pick out a cat from the shelter, for goodness' sake. Why would I have said no?"

Alvin leaned back in his chair. "And what would you have said to Mack when he asked to tag along with a camera?"

Nicholas stopped mid-pace. "So that's what this was about?"

Alvin nodded. "A little privacy. A little decency. Just one moment to themself. That's all, Nicholas." He cocked his head. "If you don't mind my saying so, you're seeming a bit paranoid lately. Judah mentioned that you asked him why Vincent had approached him about the coaching situation."

"Judah told you that?" Nicholas asked sharply.

"He's concerned about you."

"He said that?"

"No, but he is. If we can't trust each other–"

"But we couldn't, could we. Look at what happened with Francine."

Except you were wrong about Francine. Or wrong about being wrong about Francine. But that wasn't a useful truth, so he settled for, "I'm not Francine."

Nicholas thought that one over for a moment. "No. No, you're not. And you're right. Neither is Judah. It's just…"

"You're concerned about the amount of time he's going to be spending working closely with Rick and Penelope, aren't you."

Nicholas nodded reluctantly. "There's a reason the coaches have been more willing to interact with you and Francine than the rest of us. Knowing that the pair of you voted against the Games made them more comfortable with you, and we never had to worry that they might change your minds about the Games, because you were already against them. But Judah…"

"Knows what he's getting into," Alvin finished. "He can handle it. You know why he voted for the Games in the first place, and it had nothing to do with wanting to round up thousands of mutants who don't pose a threat and dumping them in camps. He's always been more focused on the minority of mutants who are a threat, and finding a way to turn that threat into an advantage. This has always been his endgame. He was thrilled when Penelope won last year, and now with Rick so desperate to make up for what he did in the Games, he has the catalyst he needed. This is what he wanted all along."

"I know, but…"

"But…?"

Nicholas cocked his head. "You voted for his proposal. Why?"

Alvin chuckled. "Is that why you're worried? Judah and I agreed about something, so something must be very wrong?" He shook his head. "Yes, I voted for his idea. Because it was better than Mack's idea. That's all."

"Honestly?"

Alvin nodded. "Always. Now if Mack and I start agreeing, then you can worry. Deal?"

Nicholas finally cracked a smile. "Deal. So what else was on your list?"

Alvin shrugged. "Just the essentials. Food and water dishes, cat food, a litter box, litter. Scratching post. A few toy mice. Catastrophe's already making herself at home."

Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "Catastrophe?"

Alvin smirked. "She's their cat, so they get to name her. I thought it was clever."

"Of course you did." Nicholas sighed. "Thank you, Alvin."

"For what?"

"For your honesty. Even when people might not want to hear it. You're right; this only works if we trust each other. But trust doesn't mean much without honesty. What we've built here … it works because while we each have our own expertise – even our own agenda at times – we know where each other stand. We keep each other in check. Sometimes we disagree, but we disagree honestly. No hidden agendas. No secrets. No tricks. Do you know what a rare thing that is anywhere, let alone a government organization?"

"I do."

"And to forestall any future tricks … You have my permission to take Henry errand-running if you feel they need a break. No need to ask permission; just message me when you're leaving so I know where to find you. Rick and Penelope will be working with Judah, and I'll tell him the same thing. As long as you feel it's safe…" Nicholas trailed off, waiting for confirmation.

Alvin nodded. "I don't think any of them are going to try to overpower us and run away, if that's what you're suggesting," he agreed. "Where would they go? They can't remove their collars, and they know we can track them."

"They could still do a lot of damage before we caught them if they had a mind to," Nicholas pointed out.

"But they won't. When Penelope was training with Alannah and Joseph, I gave her the remote for the collars so that Alannah could practice on me. She had the perfect opportunity, and she did nothing. At the end of the Games, Rick's collar was off, and Judah talked him into calming down the storm. No one even considered that he might try to do the opposite – make the storm worse, maybe try to kill us all. There were three of us right there, and it didn't occur to any of us. It probably didn't even occur to him."

"And Henry?"

Alvin leaned forward a little. "Do you remember what happened at the end of the talent show? Elio was complaining about the number of people who had participated, everyone was getting a little restless, and Henry stepped in. Made some little golems and ended the show on a positive note. Well, as positive as anyone could have hoped for. And they didn't do it for fun, or because they particularly wanted to show off. They did it because they understood how to play the Games. All of them do. They may not like it, but they don't have to like it in order to play well. I think we can trust them to keep doing it."

Nicholas nodded. He didn't ask the obvious question: And what if you're wrong? But it was there, hanging in the air. If he was wrong, it was only a matter of time before they found out. Only a matter of time before someone got hurt, or ended up dead. If he was wrong…

"And what's the alternative?" Alvin continued. "Monitor them every second of every day? Watch them like lab rats for any hint of rebellion? We do that, and we'll create the distrust we're trying to avoid. They were fighting for their lives in the Games. Future contestants will be looking to them to find out whether the lives they won are worth living. I don't think you'll like what happens if they decide they're not."

Nicholas thought that over, then nodded. "Okay. As long as they cooperate."

That was the best he was going to get, Alvin knew. Everything was conditional. Fragile. What he had just accomplished could be undone in a second by a careless reaction. But here and now, maybe he had taken a step in the right direction.

As long as they cooperate.

Piper Galligan, 17
April 5, 12:13 MST

"They're actually cooperating."

Piper nodded as the video on the screen ended, revealing that both Penelope and Rick would be founding members of a team of mutants focused on preventing and saving people from natural disasters. Cari's voice sounded upset, which was understandable, but she was upset with the wrong people. "You can't blame them for that. I'd probably be doing the same thing."

A sudden silence told her she'd caught Cari by surprise – and maybe some of the other new arrivals, too. "You really think so?" asked a voice. Cecily, Piper was pretty sure. Rick's friend.

Piper nodded emphatically. "Look, the only reason I'm here instead of there is because the MAAB decided I'd be more useful as bait than as a coach. I got lucky. They didn't. Simple as that. If you want to blame the MAAB, go right ahead, but don't blame Rick and Penelope for doing what they think is best for them."

There was a murmur of agreement from Seb's direction, and Piper relaxed a little. Maybe he didn't have his powers anymore, but he'd been in the Games. He understood that sometimes the only choices you had were bad ones, but you still had to choose. Sometimes you couldn't afford to look at the big picture.

Sometimes the only person you could really help was yourself.

That was what Rick and Penelope were doing. It was probably what Henry was doing, too. It was certainly what she was doing, or at least what she had done after last year's Games. She had gotten herself and her family to safety. Only then had she given any thought to helping other people escape, too.

"So what's our next move?" That voice was Olivia's. Lee's friend. Not a mutant herself, but eager to help. To do something to help anyone who might find themselves in Lee's position next year. But…

Cari must have picked up the thought. "The next move isn't about the Games, is it."

Piper leaned forward. "No. It's not. Because things are bigger than the Games now. Much bigger. And the Games are a year away. They're going to start rounding people up and taking them to these camps soon, if they haven't started already. Magneto is putting together a few different teams to help locate and rescue as many people as we can. If you're willing to help, I'm sure any of you would be welcome."

"Even me?" Seb asked cautiously. "Without my power, I…"

A voice behind Piper answered before she could. "Without your power, you're still a resourceful young man with a gift for diffusing tense situations. I saw how you talked Kenji and Frederick out of attacking each other and helped them focus on their common problem. We need as much of that as we can get – from anyone who's willing to help. We certainly aren't in a position to turn down anyone who wants to lend a hand."

Piper tensed. How long had Magneto been standing there? Long enough to hear her admit that she would probably have gone along with the MAAB's plan just like Rick and Penelope? Maybe. But it was the truth. She had been a kid. She still was a kid. All of them were, really. Seb was sixteen. Cari was seventeen. Cecily was eighteen. Olivia was twenty-one. None of them were really prepared for this. But neither were the tens of thousands – perhaps hundreds of thousands – of mutants who were about to be hunted down and ripped from their friends and families because of who they were.

And she was offering them … what? A life hiding here in New Sanctuary. They were safe here, but for how long? How big could their little settlement grow before someone noticed? Had someone already noticed? The MAAB knew they were somewhere in Canada, but as far as she knew, the Canadian government had never come looking for them. If they grew too big, took in too many new arrivals, would that change?

"You're desperate, you mean," Olivia pointed out, shaking Piper from her thoughts. "They've backed you into a corner, and you have to take whatever help you can get. Even non-mutants like me. Even kids. Anyone you can talk into joining you."

Piper felt Cari tense, and for a moment, she thought maybe their newcomer had gone too far. But then she heard a wry chuckle, and Magneto answered. "You're right, Olivia. This isn't your fight. It shouldn't be up to children to fight these battles. But here and now, we have no other choice. They have backed us into a corner. They have made us desperate." Piper didn't have to glance into the future to picture the smile forming.

"Let's make sure they regret that."

Rick Clifton, 20
June 1, 09:55 CST

"We'll make sure to get your good side."

Rick shook his head as Mack positioned the six of them for the cameras. Henry and Vincent were seated in the front, with the others behind them in a line – Rick, Maria, Ian, and then Penelope on the other end. The first buses would be arriving soon, and Mack wanted everything to be perfect.

No, that wasn't quite right. Mack wanted everything to look perfect. The six of them, already settled in, here to welcome the first arrivals to Loving Colony. It was a stupid name. But apparently the Texas county they were in was called Loving County, so Mack had run with it.

Most of the new arrivals wouldn't be staying, of course. This was just their first stop. A place for them to wait while they were assessed and processed. The colony's longer-term residents would be the younger mutants whose powers hadn't developed yet. Rick doubted there would be many of those in this first group. These would be the ones who had already been registered under the Mutant Registration Act. The ones who had been easy to locate and collect.

The MAAB had given the six of them a week to get settled in first, but there hadn't been much settling in to do. It wasn't as if they'd had anything with them. Henry had Catastrophe and a few cat supplies, but aside from that, they only had what they'd had with them when they'd been collected for the Games, which wasn't much. The six of them had been assigned one of the smaller buildings in the center of the rather sprawling colony. Rick wondered if it had once been a roadside motel. The layout was about right. Each of them had their own room with few furnishings. A bed, a small table, a closet for the few changes of clothes they'd been given. A sink, a toilet, and a shower. Sparse. Efficient. Uniform. Not large, but at least there was some privacy. Curtains on the window. A lock on the door. There was a laundry room at the end of the hall, and a larger kitchen area for them to share in what had probably once been the lobby.

It could be a lot worse. He'd seen some of the other buildings. Some were like theirs, but some contained smaller, cramped rooms that looked more like cells. Maybe they had been jail cells. Mostly, the MAAB had made do so far with whatever buildings were readily available, but construction had already begun on new ones. He hadn't seen the plans for those, but they looked bigger, more like the tall apartment buildings you might see in a city, rather than something that looked at home against the backdrop of open land around them.

Rick turned his attention back to the buses that were pulling into the parking lot outside something that had probably once been an office building. Not that he cared about the cameras – and he certainly didn't give a damn about whether the people watching the broadcast could see his scars or not – but the six of them were going to be one of the first things these people saw when they got off the bus. It was their job to … what? Make them feel welcome? Put them at their ease? Make sure they cooperated?

Rick wiped the sweat from his forehead, wishing the MAAB had provided them with something cooler to wear. The sun was already beating down, and the slight breeze there had been maybe twenty minutes ago when they'd been rounded up to get ready had died down.

For a moment, he considered asking if they'd turn his collar off so he could try to muster a breeze, or at least a cloud or two for a little shade. But he knew the answer to that already. Mack wouldn't want to risk anything ruining the big moment. He was already striding towards the first bus, grinning at the cameras. Rick wasn't close enough to make out what he was saying, but he had no doubt he was already declaring the day a success.

Mack gave a signal, and the doors on the first bus opened. An armed guard stepped out, then gestured to whoever was behind him. It turned out to be a boy a few years younger than Rick. Then a girl around the same age. A younger girl. An older boy. A middle aged man. A woman who was probably in her 20s. More. And more. It was a large bus, but there still seemed to be too many people spilling out. Most looked tired. Some were stretching their legs after the ride. A few were handcuffed. The last one off the bus was an angry-looking teenager with shackles around his ankles, hands cuffed behind his back, and trailed by another guard. All of them wore collars.

Rick ran his fingers along his own collar as the group was slowly herded in the right direction – towards the building behind him. Rick glanced at the other five, waiting for … what? What were they supposed to do? No one had really given them any instructions. Were they just supposed to stand here while the new arrivals were paraded past? Mack had insisted on them being here, but why? If they weren't going to do anything…

Rick hesitated. No one had told them to do anything, but no one had told them not to do anything, either. They didn't have to just stand there. Or sit there. Or whatever. He stepped out of the neat little line and towards the group, stopping when he was almost – but not quite – in their path. He held out his hand to the first girl in the group. "Welcome to Loving Colony."

It sounded stupid. He knew that the second the words left his mouth. But the girl managed a nervous smile and shook his hand shakily before being nudged forward.

Then Penelope was at his side, holding out her hand to a man farther back in the group. He turned away, grunting, but the next man shook her hand. After a moment, Alvin bustled over with a pair of folding chairs, and Vincent and Henry settled in to join them. He could see that Maria and Ian had made their way to the other side of the crowd, and Penelope quickly slipped through to join them, making it three of them on each side of the parade.

Rick was doing most of the talking on his side, since Henry and Vincent couldn't hear what was being said. Not that most of the arrivals were saying much. Not that he was saying much, if it came to that. Most of it was "welcome." All of it felt wrong. Stiff. Trite. But someone needed to say something. Saying something meant that these were people, not animals. You didn't talk to a herd of animals. You did talk to a crowd of frightened people. Maybe it didn't really matter what you said, as long as there were words. Words were a human thing.

Don't tell them it also looks very, very human. That was what Vincent had told him and Henry after they'd opened up to each other about what had happened to them during the Games. Maybe that was why they were there – to remind everyone that they were human. Maybe to remind their new arrivals themselves that they were still human. Mutants, yes, but still people.

They had to hold onto that.

Gradually, Rick realized that not all of the passengers on the buses were mutants. A few arrivals without collars accompanied the others. Two young women – one with a collar and one without – were holding hands as they passed. A few who were probably parents accompanied some of the younger teens. An older teen without a collar held the hand of a collared little girl who couldn't have been more than seven or eight. Rick shook the boy's hand firmly, then knelt down face to face with the girl, who was shaking with fright. "It's okay," he whispered, trying to keep his own voice from shaking. "It's going to be okay."

It was a lie. Or at least, it was probably a lie. Whatever was waiting for her here, it wasn't going to be okay. But the little girl threw her arms around his neck, running her fingers along his collar. "Look, Bruno! He's like me! That means it's going to be okay."

The boy, apparently Bruno, laid a hand on the girl's shoulder to try to urge her along as the rest of the line began to move past them. "Vamanos, Mariela. We have to keep moving."

Mariela was still trembling as she let go of Rick. "Will you come with us?"

"Of course," Rick blurted out before he'd even thought it through. He glanced over at Henry and Vincent, but of course neither of them had heard him. He tapped Vincent on the shoulder, pointed to himself, the pair of arrivals, and then the building behind them.

"Go ahead," Vincent agreed. "We've got this."

Rick turned back to Mariela and Bruno. He took one of the little girl's hands. Bruno took the other. Together, they made their way towards the building. Rick could hear Vincent's voice behind him now, welcoming the new arrivals. Rick gave Mariela's hand a squeeze. "Okay. We're just heading for this building up here. Once we're inside, it'll be mostly waiting. It'll be a bit crowded, but there's food and drinks, and then they'll figure out where you're going to live now – you and your … brother?" he guessed.

"Cousin," Bruno corrected. Then, in a low voice, "I'm the only one who would come with her. Everyone else was afraid. And I mean … I am, too, but I couldn't let her come alone."

Rick nodded. "You made the right choice." Even as he said it, though, the words tasted hollow. There was nothing right here. There were no right choices. Not when it came to something like this. There were only choices that weren't as bad as some of the others.

Rick looked around at the crowd. There were so many people, and he couldn't do anything about it. He couldn't help them. But here and now, maybe he could help one person.

And maybe that was enough.

Seb, 17
September 3, 14:13 EST

It would never be enough.

Seb held his breath as he crouched behind the bushes below the window, waiting for Cecily's signal. She'd located the room where the mutants were being held, and now they were waiting for Olivia to create a distraction. It wouldn't take long. Olivia had spent the week posing as a substitute teacher, waiting for the screening crew to arrive.

Screenings – that was what they were calling them. That made it sound friendlier. The crews would show up at the school, test every student, and separate the mutants. On the one hand, it made things easier for the three of them. He, Cecily, and Olivia wouldn't have to go through the entire school, find all the mutants individually, and try to gather them together without being detected. Now they just had to break into one room. On the one hand, the government was doing their job for them, and maybe he should be grateful for that.

On the other hand, of course, it was terrible. This particular school was a middle school. The kids were eleven, twelve, thirteen … maybe a handful of fourteen-year-olds. Some of them probably didn't even know they were mutants yet. Some of their powers might not have even started to appear. But that didn't matter to the government. Mutants were being carted off to the new colonies by the hundreds. The only limitation seemed to be the number of mutants they could process at a time, and considering the increased frequency of the screenings, they were getting faster. More efficient. And once they'd finished with the schools…

Once they'd finished the schools, then they could deal with the stragglers. The kids who were homeschooled. The ones who had already dropped out. The ones who were already older than the ones they were screening now. It would take time, but it would get harder and harder for mutants to hide – and harder to rescue them. Once they were in the colonies, rescue would become much harder – if not impossible. They had a small window, and it was getting smaller by the day.

And it would never be enough.

Seb's stomach churned. Even if they kept working day and night until every remaining mutant in the country was in one of the colonies, it wouldn't be enough. No matter how many they rescued, they wouldn't really be able to make a dent in what the government was doing. Not like this. Not a few at a time. But what was the other option? They didn't have the resources for a larger strike. They didn't have the numbers to attack in force. And maybe they never would.

Cecily laid a hand on his arm, and Seb realized he'd been shaking. Maybe she'd mistaken it for nervousness, but it wasn't. It was rage. He felt so helpless, and the worst thing was, it was partly his fault. If he still had his powers, he could have done something. He could have written enough weapons to supply a whole mutant army. He could have written a remote to deactivate their collars. Maybe he could even have written tunnels in the ground for the mutants already in the colonies to escape.

That was the sort of thing he never would have thought of before. The sort of thing Alphonso would have asked him to try during training. Alphonso had been creative. He'd been willing to think big.

Maybe he had been right.

Seb gave Cecily's hand a squeeze. That didn't matter now. None of what he could have done mattered. He was human now. He was normal, just like he'd always wanted. But that didn't mean he was helpless. He just had to think a little smaller – for now.

Suddenly, a loud, blaring noise filled the air. The fire alarm. So that was the distraction Olivia had come up with. Simple, but effective, and it masked the sound of Cecily fiddling with the window frame. Children came pouring out of the building – except from the room he and Cecily were hiding outside. Cecily shook her head and held up seven fingers as the children headed to the parking lot on the other side of the school. There were still seven mutants inside. She couldn't sense the humans, but it was a good bet they wouldn't have left them alone.

Seb stood up a little and peeked in the window. Two adults stood by the door, which was probably locked. One was holding the remote for the mutants' collars. The other had a taser, but didn't look prepared to use it. These weren't soldiers; they were here to administer the test, identify the mutants, collar them, and hold them until someone came for them. They probably thought they were performing a public service. Maybe they even thought they were doing the right thing.

The mutants were seated in a corner, collars activated. One had a few bruises that suggested she'd put up a fight, but once they'd gotten the collar on, they'd probably used it to deliver a shock that convinced her fighting wasn't a smart move. Seb clenched his fists, waiting. Waiting as Cecily glanced at her watch…

"Now!" Cecily hissed, and the window came open with a tug.

Seb clambered through, and the two adults rushed towards him. Which was a mistake because, at that moment, Olivia broke down the door, wielding a fire extinguisher. "Don't run!" Seb called to the children, who looked like they might bolt for the door. One of the adults was covered in a layer of foam. The taser fired, but the shot was wild, and Seb dove for her legs. She hit the ground hard, and the taser fell from her hand.

Cecily, meanwhile, had climbed through the window after Seb and approached the other adult, a skinny man whose finger was hovering over one of the buttons on his remote. "Drop it," Olivia ordered, aiming the fire extinguisher.

The man took a step back. "Who are you people?"

Olivia smirked. "Luckily for you, we're the ones who will let you live. Our associates outside won't be so kind if we have to call them in. Drop it."

It was a bluff, but Olivia was a born poker player. The remote dropped, and Olivia scooped it up and pressed a button. The mutants' collars unlocked, and the seven of them hastily removed them. Olivia hurled the remote against the wall. One of the other groups had learned the hard way that the remotes had tracking devices in them, as well. Cecily glanced around the room and found what she was looking for. "Let's put them in there." She gestured to a supply closet.

Olivia nodded to the man in front of her. "You heard her. In the closet. Now."

"But–"

"Now!" Olivia hissed as Seb and Cecily hauled his counterpart to her feet and gave her a shove in the right direction. Soon, the pair were inside. As Olivia secured the closet door and piled a few tables in front of it, Seb and Cecily began helping the mutants out the window.

Seb could hear sirens in the distance, and a fire truck was pulling up. "Follow me," he whispered. "And stay low." Crouching low, they made their way along the side of the building. Seb took a deep breath. They'd parked a few blocks away so there was no chance their truck would appear on the school's cameras, but that meant they had to make it there. "Okay," he whispered to the children. "Here's the tricky part. Just … act natural. Don't run. Running attracts attention. With any luck, they'll all be focused on what's going on in front of the school. Ready?"

Seven heads nodded. Cecily gave him a thumbs-up. Olivia shrugged. "I guess we'll find out," she agreed.

As casually as he could, Seb headed down the road. The children followed, flanked by Olivia and Cecily. Seb turned one corner. Then another. There was the truck. Okay. "Into the back," he whispered, and climbed in with them as Cecily and Olivia climbed in the front. "All good," he called to them once the eight of them had settled in under a blanket. It was a bit cramped, but they just had to make it to the rendezvous point. "Take it slow."

Finally, he allowed himself to look at the kids' faces, barely visible in the light from the holes in the blanket. They were confused. Terrified. But none of them had argued. None of them had asked if they could go back, if they could see their families, if they could grab their things. Whatever they imagined was going on, they knew it was either this or the colonies. And they knew which one was a better option.

Seb relaxed a little as the pickup rumbled along. Seven more children. Maybe it was only a drop in the bucket. Maybe it wasn't much compared to what he could have done if he'd had his powers. But it was something. And it was a hell of a lot more than most people were doing. Maybe they couldn't save everyone, but here and now, they had saved seven children.

That had to count for something.

Penelope – 098, 14
October 15, 03:11 PST

Maybe their cooperation would count for something.

Penelope adjusted her breathing apparatus as the flames roared around her. The air was full of smoke, but she didn't need to see to know how well Rick was doing. She could feel the energy that was surging through the fire – energy she was absorbing as quickly as she could and channeling directly into the clouds above, where Rick could make use of it. And the fire was dying. Not quickly, but certainly.

She glanced at her air gauge, which was still lit up even through the smoke. Still plenty of time left. That was the only danger to her, they had quickly learned. The flames didn't hurt her any more than Coburn's fire or Savannah's lightning had, or any more than the lava at the end of her own Games. They were hot, but heat was just another kind of energy. It wasn't pleasant, but she could deal with it. What she couldn't do was breathe smoke, but the air tank and breather took care of that.

Mack had complained about dropping her in the middle of the fire, of course. Between the darkness and the smoke, he wouldn't get any useful footage. But he was probably getting enough from Rick, who didn't have to actually be in the fire in order to do his job. He was a safe distance away, along with Judah. And he was getting better at this. It was their fifth wildfire, and this one was already dying out quicker than the others.

But maybe they could do better.

What they were doing was good, of course. Putting out fires was right up both of their alleys, which was why it had been the first thing Judah had suggested, and most of what they'd been doing so far. But maybe if these places had gotten more rain earlier in the year, there wouldn't be so many fires in the first place. Maybe they could be doing a bit more with prevention. She would have to run that by Judah when they got home.

Home. The word still felt strange, but something about it also felt right. In the last few months, the building she shared with the other coaches had become her home. Maybe it wasn't perfect, but it was a hell of a lot better than where she'd spent most of her childhood. And even when she'd been living in Sanctuary, there'd been a sense that … well, that it was temporary. That it was too good to last. This, though – this wasn't too good to last. So maybe that meant it could be more permanent.

She didn't say anything of the sort around the others, of course – and she made sure to keep a tight lid on her thoughts around Vincent. Because they wouldn't understand. They still thought all of this was horrible. And maybe it was, when they compared it to their old lives. They'd had it pretty good. But compared to what could be happening…

Things could be worse. A lot worse. Life in the colonies wasn't perfect, but it was better than it could be. Mutants weren't being killed en masse, and twenty-eight deaths in the Games was probably less than those who would die if they'd stayed where they were and been subject to normal humans' anger. They weren't being experimented on. They weren't being tested and prodded and poked and studied. They could still live their lives. Regulated lives, perhaps, but lives. They were building schools in the colonies. Parks. Hospitals. Offices. Some of the residents had even kept their old jobs, working remotely from their new homes. Sure, they couldn't use their powers freely, but how many of them were actually grateful for that? Things were … well, okay.

As long as they cooperated.

That was the usually-unspoken part of the arrangement. Life in the colonies was pretty good, as long as you let it be. Those who didn't – those who caused trouble – were moved to the higher-security colonies, where a closer eye would be kept on them. But for the ones who cooperated – and especially the ones who were useful – things were pretty good.

And she was useful.

And she meant to keep being useful.

She had been the one to suggest to Judah that maybe they could expand their ranks a little, not just with the Victors from future Games, but with others who wanted to use their powers in a helpful way. They already had a list of a few potential recruits for what was now officially referred to as the Mutant Corps. Not all of them would be good at fighting fires, perhaps, but there was so much potential. So many ways that mutant powers could be useful.

As long as they cooperated.

They would need careful vetting, of course, to make sure that they weren't volunteering just in the hopes of getting their collars turned off long enough to cause trouble. But the ones she'd had the chance to meet seemed genuinely interested in using their powers to help save lives.

Just like she and Rick were doing.

Penelope shook her head, concentrating on gathering the energy from the fire. She was saving lives. Well, potentially saving lives, at least. Certainly saving land, and people lived on that land. And saving firefighters from having to risk their own lives trying to put out this fire. But that … well, that was always just a secondary thought. The truth was, it was good to have something to do with her power. Saving lives was all well and good, but the truth was, she would have agreed to this even if the sole purpose was to experiment with their powers and see how much they could do.

Because this was what she was good at. It was all she'd ever been good at. She'd never had the chance to be good at anything else. But here and now, maybe that didn't matter.

Maybe this was good enough.

Henry Helstrom, 15
December 21, 18:02 CST

They'd had enough for one day.

Henry leaned forward a little, trying to focus on the pieces of paper in front of them. Another new batch of residents had arrived earlier in the day, and the MAAB had asked the six of them to look over the colony assignments. Again. Most of them would end up where the MAAB had placed them, but every so often, one of them would catch something the board had missed – a power that could actually be more dangerous than they'd anticipated if it was used in a certain way, for example, which would lead to a resident being placed in a higher-security colony than they might otherwise have been.

The decisions weren't final, of course. If it turned out they'd missed something and someone's power was more dangerous than they'd thought, they could be transferred somewhere more secure later. And if someone proved particularly helpful and willing to cooperate, they could end up being transferred somewhere with less security where they could use their powers in a beneficial way. A few had even been allowed to join the newly christened Mutant Corps on a probationary level.

Henry caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of their eye, and glanced up in time to see Alvin signing something. The others had gotten pretty good at taking turns talking so that Alvin could pass along what they were saying. It was quicker than writing, now that they'd learned some basic ASL, and not as complicated as asking someone to pass everything along to Vincent, and then expecting Vincent to be able to pass it along to them while still focusing on contributing to the conversation.

–could make a … There was a pause as Alvin tried to think of the right sign, gave up, and resorted to finger-spelling instead. F-O-R-C-E F-I-E-L-D inside someone.

Henry winced. That sounded painful. They wondered who'd thought of that one. Of course, chances were good that most of the mutants in the colonies wouldn't think of using their powers that way. If it weren't for the Games, after all, they would never have considered using their own power to form a golem around someone and crush them. Just like Kiara would never have thought of using her power to bring back injuries rather than heal them. Fae would never have wanted to use her power to deafen people rather than sing beautiful music. The Games had forced them to use their powers as weapons.

Which was why the MAAB wanted their insight. They wanted people who could look at these powers with an eye for how they could be used as weapons, because even if most of the mutants in the colonies wouldn't want to use them that way, there was no way of telling which of them might come in looking for a fight. Or which of them, after a few months of being torn away from their normal lives and separated from their loved ones, might suddenly decide that fighting was worth it if there was a chance of escape.

There wasn't, of course. There was no chance. A press of a button, and even the most deadly of powers could be kept in check. In the more high-security colonies, residents' collars were activated continuously. And even if someone did manage to escape, they could be tracked. It had happened a few times already, but the Sentinels had found them and brought them back – or, in one case, brought their body back.

Henry sighed, then glanced up at Alvin, who was watching them. They reached up and tapped the top of their head. Alvin nodded and said something to Judah, who shifted position to take Alvin's place. Alvin circled around the table, signing Let's go. Slowly, Henry got to their feet and followed Alvin out into the hall, fingers trailing along the railing as the pair made their way to the door at the end of the hall. They only had to stop once to let a wave of dizziness pass, and soon they stepped out into the twilight.

A tiny vibration let Henry know Alvin had turned their collar off, and they relaxed their grip on the railing as they used the ground around them to form a thin layer of golem around their lower body, paper-thin and nearly transparent in some places, thicker and more visible around the joints, giving them some extra support. Bracing them. Giving them something to fall back on when the dizziness got too bad. Henry glanced over at Alvin. "So where are we going?"

There was just enough light from the street lamps for Henry to catch the response. It's a surprise.

Henry shrugged and followed Alvin to a car, then climbed carefully into the passenger seat. Henry raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want to be driving at night?"

Alvin switched the dome light on long enough to sign Not going far. Shout if you see a deer on my left again.

"Should I shout 'Oh deer!'?" Henry teased, and Alvin switched off the light, but Henry could still see him facepalm before starting the car. That was all the conversation they were going to get for now, Henry knew. Alvin knew better than to try to sign while he was driving, especially since he tended to sit angled away from the passenger side to make the most of his limited peripheral vision.

The drive was short and fortunately uneventful, and Alvin finally pulled over into what looked like just a field. Flat. Open. Dark. Very dark. Henry opened the door and carefully stepped out of the car, their hand resting on the hood as they watched to see what Alvin had planned. Alvin took something from the glove compartment, and Henry relaxed a little as Alvin slid on a pair of dimly glowing gloves. Of course Alvin had thought of something like that. Alvin pointed at the sky.

Henry looked up, leaning on the hood of the car to steady themself as everything started spinning. After a moment, though, the spinning gave way to the brightest stars they'd ever seen. The air was crisp and clear, a relief from the stuffy building back in the colony. Henry followed Alvin over to a clear patch of ground and let themself sink down on the blanket Alvin had spread. "Thank you."

You're welcome, Alvin signed, and lay back on the blanket, staring up at the sky, occasionally turning his head to get a better look with his good eye. Henry slowly leaned back until they were lying flat, as well, staring up into the night sky. Stargazing. They'd never really been stargazing. When they'd snuck out of their house in the city, the lights had always been too bright to really see many stars. And the Games certainly didn't count, even on the rare night when there hadn't been clouds. But this … this was beautiful.

For a while, neither of them said anything. Or at least, when Henry glanced over at Alvin, his hands weren't moving. Henry wasn't sure how long they'd been lying there, but at last, they sat up a little and said quietly, "I want to coach next year."

Alvin sat up. From what little Henry could see in the starlight, he didn't look particularly surprised. He raised his right hand to his forehead, then lowered it while curling in his three middle fingers. Why?

It was a good question, and Henry wasn't entirely sure they had a good answer. The others had told them repeatedly that while they would certainly be welcome as a coach, they shouldn't feel like they had to, after what they'd been through. What they'd been through. And that was the thing, really.

Henry leaned forward a little, trying to put words to that thought. "Because the contestants are going to be watching Rick and Penelope, and both of them … well, they're both doing pretty well. I mean, Rick's got some scars, but to be honest, they just make him look kinda badass. And if that's all they see, that's what they'll think a survivor … a Victor … looks like. That if they get hurt too bad, if something happens and they end up like … well, like me, then they can't really win – or worse, they might think it might not be worth it to win if … if this is what's going to happen." They gestured vaguely at the golem that was still supporting them. "But if they see me, if they see that I'm still able to help them, that I still think it's worth it to help them win, even if they end up like me, then maybe … well, maybe if it gets to that point, they won't give up. I knew what had happened to Vincent, and I still fought as hard as I could after it happened to me, too, because this is still a life worth living, and I want them to know that."

Alvin cocked his head. You want to be their hero?

Henry cringed. They didn't want to be anyone's hero. They'd never wanted that. They'd only wanted to survive. They'd just wanted to live. But...

"I'm not a hero," Henry said quietly. "None of us are, even if Rick and Penelope want to pretend to be. But maybe … maybe pretending is enough. Maybe if we keep pretending to be, someone will see us and decide to be what we aren't. What we can't be. Maybe they'll be heroes in our name. And maybe that's good enough." They hesitated. "Does that make sense?"

Alvin's hands didn't move, but they could see him nod. Maybe he did understand. Maybe not. Henry wasn't entirely sure they understood what they meant. But here and now, they were sure about their decision.

And that was good enough for now.

"There's no heroes anymore – only villains. And they've got us all beat."