A/N: Trigger warning for abuse.

Chapter 3:

Moro Galene, District Three, Age 18

Victor of the 78th Hunger Games

Moro is out of time.

There's no more time left for him to figure out what the hell he is going to do. No more time to figure a way out of the narrative the Capitol has forced on him from the moment he was reaped. He had no chance to try to show himself as anything other than the son of Commander Galene, war hero of the Second Rebellion. The Capitol would not let him portray himself as anything other than the faithful son of a decorated hero who helped fight the technologically advanced attacks of the former victor from their District. "Moro is a dedicated loyalist who will fight for the country in the Games!" That's what they kept saying about him. And he is loyal to the country…he knows better than to go against the country…or his father.

And yet, that's what he's been trying to figure out how to do since he was reaped.

Moro never wanted to be in the Games. He never wanted to fight in the war or against rebels. He never wanted to be part of the bloodshed that just tears families apart if their loved ones don't come back home, or even if they do make it home, a tattered shell of their former self. Why would Moro ever want that for himself? But that choice was never his to make.

Dumb luck. That's what his mother kept saying about him being reaped as his father paced the room, analyzing everything with the intense focus of a former soldier. It was his father's suggestion to play up the loyalist ties. If he kills the rebels, surely they will support him as victor – but not too much, or he'll end up like that crazy kid from the 76th Games. Moro was terrified to say no to him, but he wishes he had.

Now as he stands on the platform, waiting for the Games to start…he has no more time to think of a way out of killing rebels and doing what the Capitol expects of him. To go against them would mean his certain death. To go with them might not even guarantee his survival. And yet, is it even worth living if doing what he has to do to win destroys everything he stands for and breaks him?

Moro needs to make up his mind, and he needs to do it now.

Support the Capitol or stick to his morals? Kill children who had no involvement in the things their parents did – just like him – but were on the wrong side, or get killed for refusing to fight? Stand up for what he believes in or let his father win like always?

Moro knows the answer. It's the same answer as always. His father always has to get his way. If he doesn't, he'll turn to the bottle and turn his anger on all of them. His mother and younger sister are still at home with him, all of them surely watching the TV now to see what Moro will do. If he does something wrong…

With ten seconds left, Moro has his decision made.

I'm sorry.

When the gong sounds, Moro pushes his hesitation aside as he starts running towards the closest supplies, staring a few spots over at the young boy stumbling off of his pedestal, eyes wide in fear. As Moro's hands wrap around the hilt of a knife, for a fraction of a second, he starts to doubt himself. But as screams start sounding around him, his heart starts racing and he forces his brain to shut down and just act on his instincts. His feet slam down into the ground and he repeats over and over and over in his head, do what you have to do.

The poor boy barely has time to look back at him from where he was picking up a bag before Moro slams the knife into his shoulder. He quickly pulls the knife out and steps away as the boy cries out, swinging his uninjured arm towards him. Moro stares at him with wide eyes of shock for a moment, part of him not believing what he has done as the boy collapses to the ground, shaky breaths raking through his chest. Moro glances around at the tributes fighting around the cornucopia, finding the boy's District partner running towards him, looking royally pissed off. Moro takes off away from the cornucopia, dodging the girl's knife and swinging his towards her in return. Yet where hers swung through air, he can feel the impact as he strikes her stomach and she collapses over on herself, clutching her stomach and leaving Moro to keep running away.

Moro doesn't look back as he races away from there, afraid of looking behind him and seeing the carnage of the bloodbath, the death that has occurred.

Death he caused. He killed someone. He killed an innocent boy, all because the Capitol told them he was a bad person and a rebel for what his parents did. Parents who were trying to protect him from the very fate that just befell him. A fate Moro inflicted…

Moro stumbles to a stop as he hunches over, heaving up the little bit of breakfast he forced himself to eat. And even when that is all gone, he keeps retching. "Oh God…" Moro groans as he takes a few stumbling steps forward as the world around him starts to spin. He quickly tucks his head down between his knees, fighting off the nauseous feeling. But there's no escaping it. Not when he did this to himself.

He was just doing what he had to do. He was taking out someone the Capitol labeled as a threat, that's all…because a thirteen year old is really a threat to the entire country. He's doing what he has to do to stay alive. That's it. Survival. How many times has his father drilled into his head lessons about survival and loyalty to country? Moro is simply following instructions.

Because that's all he's ever done. Finally, he is in a place where he can make his own choices and he's too afraid of his father who can't hurt him in this arena. Like always, he's just a mindless pawn, doing exactly what he's been told to do. And he knows he will keep doing exactly what he's been told to do. He's too afraid to go against his father anymore, too afraid to make a stand for himself now that there is blood on his hands and he knows so easily that could be his blood on someone else's hands.

Moro might have made it out of the bloodbath alive, but he knows a part of him has died inside. The small rebellious part of him that has wanted to stand up for himself for once. It was killed as soon as Moro took his first life, leaving him an empty Capitol loyalist.

He knows he's going to be just like his father. And nothing in the Games could possibly scare him more than that.

Okay I don't know where this writing kick has come from with this story, but I'm not complaining XD I'm just excited to keep developing my victors and the victors within the first ten years after the rebellion are fun because of how different the Games are compared to the years I write for my SYOTs.

So I give you Moro Galene, Victor of the 78th Hunger Games. Moro's a good boy who is just going through some...moro dilemmas XD (thanks Dreamer for that pun lol). He just wanted to stand up for himself, yet he couldn't. Do you think it was worth not standing up for himself knowing he wins?

Next chapter I can actually give a good timeline on when that will be up since that POV is already written from previous things! I'll give it a couple days, but it will definitely be up within a week!