Capitol Night 2

ITHACA EMORY (18)

DISTRICT THREE FEMALE

Honestly, Ithaca kind of liked her room.

Did it look like a vomit of random colours? Yes.

Did it stink of Capitolite privilege and consumerism? Yes.

But did it have a humongous arsenal of old, leathery books for her to fawn over? Heck yes.

It seemed that District Three's past tributes had gained somewhat of a reputation for their love of reading, because every single wall of their floor was lined with colossal bookshelves that towered high and mighty with every ounce of knowledge that she could ever possibly dream of.

And Ithaca knew for a fact that this was a feature that was exclusive to their floor. After all, she'd gotten a glimpse of One's floor after it stopped to let Fleur and Alder enter..

Oh, and she'd accidentally gotten off at the second floor after Training. A tad embarrassing and a terrifying circumstance, given the murderous expression Freya had flashed her, probably signalling something to the tune of 'die, you bastard', but at least the female tribute Mia had been kind enough to politely steer her away.

She lay on her four-poster bed, an extravagant luxury of comfort that far exceeded anything she'd ever felt before, diligently poring over an atlas of old maps of Panem. She tried searching for any that showcased the fabled land she'd read about back home in the Ruby Archives, the one known as 'Costa Rica'.

One map in particular was of interest to her. A half-torn, barely legible map, with is upper portion showing a rough outline of what Ithaca recognised to be Panem, although unlike current Panem maps, the continent stretched further north and south. South of the general area of District Ten lay several unrecognisable lands: Mexico, Belize, Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, Nicaragua, and most intriguing of all, Costa Rica. A star, perhaps indicating a capital city, had been placed in a part of the country and was labelled something she couldn't quite make out. The second part of the capital's name was Jose or something close to that.

And of course, decorated all across the relatively small area of the country were the familiar creatures and mystical landscapes.

An old encyclopedia sat to her left and she quickly flipped through it to search for more clues. On one of the pages, Costa Rica was again mentioned, in a section of the book that was supposedly an extract of an old voyager's log, detailing the existence of 'spider monkeys' that ruled the treetop canopies and 'scarlet macaws' that gracefully soared the air in their multicoloured hues. Picturesque volcanoes, crystal-clear lagoons and pristine beaches were also discovered, along with the presence of 'many other tourists'.

Perhaps this was a thriving nation in its heyday.

Before she could ponder more about this elusive ancient country, someone knocked on her door.

Ithaca grunted.

What a lovely interruption to her precious reading time.

"Come in," she grumbled, earmarking both the atlas and the encyclopedia before slamming both books shut.

If her escort had strutted in there and then, Ithaca was ninety-nine point nine percent sure that she would've sent a pillow hurtling straight at her overly bleached face.

Instead, Gadget poked her head through the doorframe, a timid look on her face. Her eyes were puffy and red and her cheeks were flushed red, as though she'd just come back from another one of her vomiting sessions. Ithaca had read up about Gadget's past and while she couldn't find a specific diagnosis, she could tell by the way she refused to eat with the rest of the group and ran off to the bathroom whenever someone raised their voice that this was none other than a classic case of bulimia.

Did the Games do this to her?

Ithaca had pondered this question the entire day, yet she didn't have the heart to ask Gadget. The veteran Victor had genuinely tried to help her, pointing out the biggest strengths and weaknesses in every single tribute as part of her little 'scouting project' while watching Training commence. Plus, she looked so frail and shaken, Ithaca couldn't bear to force her to dump all of her trauma right in front of her there and then.

"Hey there Ithaca," Gadget called out, her voice quivering and heartbreakingly fragile as usual. "Uhm, listen, I know you said you wanted an ally, so Switch-"

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the corridor, followed by shrill squeaks that sounded less like humans and more like mice. Ithaca jerked to her feet and jogged over to the doorway. Glazing out of it, she saw the Victor from Five, Switch Kim and the boy from Five, whatever his name was, gazing in horror at a broken vase that had shattered on the ground.

"Whoopsy-daisy!" Switch yelped, glancing apologetically as Nikola and their escort rushed to the scene. "I only wanted to do a somersault for a grand entrance, I didn't mean to break it, promise!"

"Oh my goodness!" the escort howled, cupping her mouth in horror. "That is an exquisite, expensive-"

"-And perfectly common vase that can be easily replaced," Nikola finished, dragging her away from the scene of the crime. "I'll fetch an avox to sweep it away.

"Well, I guess the instructions for handling this glass vase weren't clear enough," the boy from Five quipped, drawing an exuberant giggle from Switch. Ithaca stifled one herself. The pun was the worst she'd heard in her life, but in the heat of the moment, something prompted her to laugh.

Nikola sighed and rolled his eyes, yet the amused glimmer in them betrayed his true thoughts. "Looks like you've got a new favourite tribute, Switch."

Switch grinned and did a tiny salute. "Yeah, Persey's fire! Get it? Persey Fayre and fire?"

Persey chuckled, clearly impressed. "Damn, that's the best pun of my name I've heard since Per-sea."

"Oh, make it stop!" the escort wailed, making a beeline for the wine bar, Nikola chortling as he followed her away.

"As I was saying, Ithaca, meet Persey. I thought he'd be a great ally for you," Gadget told her, a small hint of a small tugging on the side of her face, a rare sight that honestly warmed Ithaca's usually cold heart.

Persey gave her a friendly wave, laughing a little awkwardly, but Ithaca had to admit, this guy seemed like a fun person. But what she was looking for was brains, so…

"Alright then Persey," Ithaca declared. "I have a few puzzles for you in my room, solve them and we can be allies."

Persey raised an amused eyebrow. "Why what a puzzling coincidence. I've got a few puzzles for you to solve as well."

Ithaca frowned. "Are they hard ones?"

"Mind-boggling," Persey affirmed. "Some of the hardest in all of Panem! But you've got a bit of a grumpy face, I'm not quite sure you'd be that great of an ally. Also, your laugh's a little weird." He tapped his chin thoughtfully as he said it, narrowing his eyes slightly in suspicion.

Such accusations might've offended many, including Coda, but Ithaca took it as a sign that he was on her wavelength. Blunt and straightforward? Not a bad combo to have in her eyes. "Well, if it helps, I've snuck a bowl of crisps from dinner, we can have those while solving our puzzles."

Persey's eyes lit up instantly at the mention of crisps. "Are they cheese-flavoured?"

"Absolutely," Ithaca said with a nod.

"Fantastic! It might sound cheesy, but I love stuff with plenty of cheese. Oh, Switch told me you like maps, I've found a random old one wedged in the walls of my bathroom," Persey replied, fishing out a fascinatingly yellowed map in an ancient language of a place that definitely wasn't Panem from his pocket.

A smirk materialised on Ithaca's face. "Huh, now we're getting somewhere."

FLEUR MONTGOMERY (17)

DISTRICT ONE FEMALE

Honestly, Fleur was still a little upset.

She sat in her bedroom, flipping around a small plastic fish she'd gotten as a child on a trip to the aquarium. It reminded her of home, and the many memories she'd made with her Aunt Crystal on their many adventures together.

It reminded her of the fun she could have in her life.

Yet, tonight, there was not even a hint of a smile on her face. Having kept up a strong poker face the entire day during Training, she felt utterly drained.

"Why did you do it, Alder?" she mused, blinking back a tear. "I could've won and helped your family, you didn't have to do this, you silly idiot!" She flung the plastic fish hard against the wall, letting out a cry of frustration.

She sat there, alone in her own thoughts, the fading noises of the city beyond her windows her only company in her isolation. Silence reigned king in the moment, both providing her a brief moment of solace and also threatening to rip her limb from limb with its domineering presence.

A few days ago, she'd gone into the whole volunteering gig all proud and confident, ready to take on whatever came her way. Now, faced with the sheer reality of having to kill Alder to achieve her coveted Victory, all that pride and confidence began to wane into a soupy mixture of sorrow and despair.

Burying her face in her hands, she let out a silent scream. "What am I supposed to do now?" she moaned, her worries and emotions crashing over her, drowning her in a fit of misery.

She resurfaced, only momentarily, to glance out the window, hoping the bright lights of a world beyond her own, one that reeked with opportunity and hope, could comfort her. Those flashing neon lights on billboards, those flickering office lights, those multicoloured disco lights in bars and houses, they were all the products of rich Capitolites living out their lives to the fullest.

And in a few days, they would have their ultimate entertainment: the Hunger Games.

She wondered if they ever faced such an imposing dilemna as she and Alder did, that only one of them could go home safe and sound, the other locked away in a casket, trapped in a permanent slumber riddled with pain and grief. Maybe some of them did, in their own ways, after all, life surely couldn't be all sunshine and rainbows even here, amidst the glitz and glamour of the Capitol.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a knock came on the door. Fleur didn't even need to wait for any voice or indication, she knew exactly who it was. Three quick knocks, followed by three slow knocks, and finally three more quick knocks, it could only be none other than Alder himself.

With a sigh, she called for him to come inside.

The door creaked open and a nervous-looking Alder slowly walked into the room, his footsteps belaboured, his breathing quick, heavy, frightened. He hung his head a little, struggling to maintain eye contact with Fleur as he gingerly sat at the very edge of the bed, tethering on the brink of falling over.

"Uhh, hey there, Fleur. I couldn't stop thinking about you and I- erm, decided to come over. It's a bit spontaneous, I know, but…" Alder fumbled with his words, all the bravado and courage he'd shown ever since the day he'd first met Fleur fading out into a mere whimper of his former self.

Fleur sighed. "Look Alder, I- I'm still a little upset at you, so if you don't mind…" She gestured towards the door, a pained expression on her face. She hated having to do this to others, she loved being in Alder's company. But tonight? She wasn't sure she could deal with him.

Alder nodded solemnly. "I understand. And I'm still sorry that I didn't tell you. But I had to do it. For Cara." He stood up, gave Fleur a tantalisingly friendly smile, one she'd yearned to see all day long, and turned to leave.

Fleur gritted her teeth. She wanted him gone from her room, she wanted some peace and quiet for one night, she wanted to be left alone to her own thoughts.

So naturally, she called out, "Wait, fine, you can stay, I guess."

Alder blinked for a second, then marched his way back towards Fleur's bed. He sat himself back at the edge of her bed, his eyes darting back and forth between Fleur and the door. In his current state, he looked like a hostage attempting to flee a rigged interrogation, which Fleur found the tiniest bit amusing.

"I mean, I can understand why you did it, I guess," she reasoned aloud, not really speaking to Alder directly, but rather just channelling her inner thoughts. "With both of us in the Games, there's double the chance your family gets the money they need for Cara's treatment." She gazed back at Alder, forcing herself to lock eyes with him. Like a flopping fish, Alder's gaze struggled to meet hers, but eventually, it did. "Alright, we aren't getting far like this, I forgive you." She gave him a weak smile and spread her arms out for a hug, one that Alder pounced right into, nearly knocking the wind out of her. Laughing, she protested, "I asked for a hug, not a full-on tackle!"

Alder managed a feeble laugh and gave her a slap on the back. "We're Careers, we can get a little rough."

Fleur winked at him. "Oh, you bet," she purred, giving him a playful bop on the nose. Alder's face turned beet red and when he opened his mouth to speak, all that came out was an awkwardly loud scream of silent nothing.

Oh, Alder you cute little muffin.

All the anger she'd been storing up for him vaporised in a flash, and now, with the weight of her emotions off her shoulders, she decided she would make the most of her final days with Alder.

By having a little bit of fun with him, of course.

She let out a giggle as she extended a hand to close Alder's jaw, only succeeding in making him blush an even brighter shade of scarlet. "You know, you really need to be a lot more subtle."

"Subtle?" Alder tried to sound confused and innocent, but the awkward scratch of his head was a telltale sign for Fleur. "About what?"

Oh, you know what I'm talking about.

Fleur wasn't going to tell him, but watching him get all embarrassed like this was kind of cute. And the sparks that ignited within her chest and the butterflies dancing and twirling in her guts were definitely not normal.

There was just something about him that made him impossible to stay mad at, even despite his rogue volunteering escapade. He was just so innocent and nice, Fleur couldn't help but smile with him there on the edge of her bed.

Besides, she would be lying if she said she didn't think the freshly-baked muffins that showed up in her room that morning weren't sweet.

"Hmm," Fleur murmured, maintaining a playful, sickly-sweet smile and an intense eye contact with Alder. "You know what, I'm kinda tired, we really should go to bed." She yawned and eyed him up and down. "Those pink pyjamas make you look dashing, by the way."

It wasn't a joke or sarcasm, and from the stunned look in Alder's eyes, she could tell he knew it as well. He did look adorable in those pyjamas, with their hot pink colour and cartoonish rainbow squirrel designs, no doubt hand-picked by Geneva and Cartier in order to 'appeal to her by looking as funny as possible'.

But hey, that was exactly Fleur's type.

Alder flashed her a shaky grin and saluted her as he marched towards the door. "So long, m'lady. I'll see you tomorrow."

Once he was gone, Fleur sank into her bed and sighed.

Oh dear, she really was falling in love in the Hunger Games.

ASHTON FEKYU ('18')

DISTRICT SIX MALE

Honestly, Ashton's mind wasn't on the Hunger Games that night.

After all, Ford had just broken the news that his brand new proposal for the merger of Six had finally been accepted.

The newspaper had arrived at their floor late at night, with an avox nearly tripping on her own feet as she rushed to deliver it to Ford. Apparently, Ford was one of a few holdouts among the Victors who still had a newspaper subscription as opposed to following a news platform on what the Capitol called 'social media', whatever that meant.

"Helps me keep as low a profile as possible," he'd explained, cup of tea in one hand, newspaper in the other.

Ashton was barely listening, his mind still lingering woefully on his failed attempt at striking up a conversation with the girl from Five in Training.

Well, his alliance options were dwindling by the second.

Suddenly, Ford's eyes widened. "Ashton, take a look at this."

Ashton frowned, puzzled. He doubted any news of Capitolites drowning in cash would excite him at all. This place was, after all, the definition of inequality. Compared to the squalor of the Districts, Six in particular, this was a cash haven.

Leaning forward, Ashton glanced at the page Ford was reading.

District Six merger in motion! Decades of division now over!

And just like that, all memory of the girl from Five telling him he was 'useless' evaporated into mist, engulfed by an ever-swelling surge of elation that ballooned within his soul.

That night, under the pitch-black sky, sunshine flooded his heart, infused with joy and sparks he'd never felt before in his life. Decades of hard work from both him and his father had now finally paid off, and if the article was correct, the news was, against all odds, being incredibly well-received.

"I think everyone knows this is their chance to come together," Ford said. "Against, ah, a common enemy." There was a dark glint in his eyes and Ashton knew exactly what he'd meant. Rich or poor, everyone in Six was still under Capitolite oppression. Ashton himself had spent virtually the entire year trying to convince people of this fact.

And it seemed like people had begun to see sense.

He gasped for breath, a silly smile spreading across his face. "That's- that's amazing!" he exclaimed, his hands flying to his cheeks in amazement, nearly knocking into Esma, who swerved away from him.

"There will be some conflicts and tension at first," Ford conceded. "But if the pieces come together, Six could be a key future flashpoint."

That instantly made Esma perk up. She glanced around and Ashton knew she was checking if anyone was watching them. It was no use, they both knew that tributes- and everyone in the Capitol and Panem as a whole- was under constant surveillance. Still, Esma murmured mysteriously, "Stuff's gonna happen, huh? Interesting." She turned to Ashton, who's by this point completely forgotten about the now-cold bowl of soup sitting in front of him. "Hang on, were you the kid who went around as some sort of messenger?"

Ashton nodded and tried to recall if he'd ever stopped by the Cyprus house. He was sure that he hadn't, though, the home of a hovercraft tester would've surely made more of an impression on his mind.

Esma gritted her teeth, her face turning grim. "Are you Grenna Faulkner's friend? The one who got beaten by Lexus?"

Ashton sighed. The memory of that fateful day with Grenna flooded right back at him. He could still vividly feel the blinding rage he'd felt towards Lexus, Tyde and the rest of that fucking lot. The feeling of wanting vengeance was not common for Ashton, and while he'd ultimately shied away from confronting Lexus outright, he'd never forgotten the whole fiasco. "Yeah, she was fairly broken for a while after that," Ashton told her.

Esma shook her head, a solemn look descending upon her face and Ashton wondered if Lexus had hurt her too.

For those brats, she was probably just another girl to add to their 'collection'.

"Lexus," she murmured and suddenly Ashton felt a cold chill running down his spine. There was just something murderous about the way Esma was staring at his bowl of soup. This girl exuded a violent, dangerous aura that Ashton would usually dislike, but hey, directed against idiots like Lexus? He was all for it. "He and Tyde, well, let's just say once I get home, they're going straight to the slammer. I've got all the evidence to put them behind bars, maybe even more."

Ashton rested a comforting hand on her shoulder. Instantly, she tensed up and raised her fist slightly, but then she relaxed, her gaze softening a little. "If I make it home instead of you, I'll help release that evidence. Anything to help out Grenna, those two have been threatening her ever since, can't imagine what they're doing to her right now," he said, shuddering at the mere thought of it.

Esma cracked a smile. "Thanks, Ashton. Hey, if you're ever in need of allies, Omega and I would be more than happy to have you on board with us."

Ashton grinned. "Oh, you bet I'm in."

After supper, Ashton helped the avoxes to clear the plates. Sure, the Peacekeepers had tried to stop him, but he'd waved them off and proceeded to help out anyway.

Besides, he didn't exactly have much better to do.

On his way back to his room, he felt his pants grow a little heavier, as if they were slipping. That would've been embarrassing as hell, seeing as Esma was still in the living room talking with a drunk-looking Kimi, but looking down, he was grateful his boxers weren't out on display.

However, there was a mysterious navy blue envelope in his pocket.

It was quite thick and carried a little bit of weight, but as far as Ashton could tell, there was nothing more than a single letter inside when he shook it.

But how the hell had this ended up in his pocket of all places?

Had one of the avoxes put it there? Or a Peacekeeper? Maybe someone else altogether? He was sure no one had touched him, let alone slipped a whole, decently-sized envelope into his pocket, which in itself was rather small.

Ashton frowned, wondering if he should show this to Ford. At the bottom of the envelope, however, in clear gold letters were the words 'Private and Confidential'.

Well, it looked like he was going to have to take this to his room.

And he did just that. Slamming the door shut behind him, he tore the envelope and pulled out a neatly-folded red letter, lined with an intricate silver border.

Dear Ashton,

Congrats on achieving the merger, you have done District Six- and us- a great service. Now, focus on the Games. We will aid and sponsor you as much as possible. Good luck, we are all in this together.

~Dawn

"Dawn…" Ashton muttered, nearly dropping the letter in disbelief.

Who was this 'Dawn'?

Who was 'us'?

And what did they mean by 'we are all in this together'?

CODA JENKINS (13)

DISTRICT THREE MALE

Honestly, Coda was bored.

The Tribute Centre wasn't exactly an adventure hotspot on the average explorer's radar, after all.

Unless of course, said explorer had a burning desire to be thrown into some shitty-ass glorified human zoo where starving little kids had to demonstrate martial arts skills against one another and try not to get themselves sent to a permanent grounding from all earthly activities in the process.

"Focus on survival, don't focus too much on weaponry," Nikola had told him.

Which was why Coda had spent a good two hours lying exhausted on his bed after a long day of practising knife-throwing amidst a jeering crowd of Careers that he ignored by stuffing cotton wool into his ears.

"Don't rile up the escort, you need Capitolites like her on your side," Nikola had told him.

Which was why he spent half of dinnertime arguing with her about her questionable fashion choices while Ithaca just sat there reading some sort of boring plant book.

"Get a good night's sleep, you'll need it for tomorrow," Nikola had told him.

Which was why Coda was now sneaking his way out of his room via a hidden tunnel he'd found behind a bookshelf, on his way to explore some hidden parts of the Tribute Centre. He wasn't going to try escaping, that would be a dumb way of ensuring he finished dead last in the Bloodbath, but he sure wanted to go on a solo adventure while in the good ol' Capitol.

Wriggling his way through the tunnels was fairly easy, since Coda wasn't that big to begin with. The horrid stench of decaying pests and mould didn't particularly faze him either. After all, he'd been to some absolutely torrid destinations on his past adventures.

The sight of an old Capitolite Peacekeeper belting out shrill tunes while in the shower, however, now that was disturbing.

He also caught sight of his annoying old mentor Nikola with Gadget in a separate room. The pair were talking in hushed voices, low enough so Coda couldn't quite hear them but he could still pick up a few words here and there.

Gadget was curled up in a ball on her bed, gently rocking back and forth as if on a ship, her face hidden behind a wave of blonde hair. Nikola had a protective arm around her, his eyebrows knitted in concern. Coda gritted his teeth. He'd long figured out that Gadget had an eating disorder of some sort and was still reeling from the memories of her time in the arena.

She looked so broken, so frail, is this what will become of me if I survive?

Not wanting to pry on Gadget, who'd tried to customise some extra spicy food for him from the kitchens for breakfast that day to hype him up, he swiftly moved on, crawling forward and arriving at an intersection. The path left was sealed off with a large builder, a massive bummer but at least the path to the right was still wide open. Coda traced his fingers along the walls, which grew rustier as he went down the tunnels. At one point, he even spotted an old carving on a bolt that had been painted bright red. Someone had carved out 'Oakette Mason, just got out, see ya bitches!'.

A curious grin spread across his face.

There had to be more of these in here.

Further down a tunnel, he found a rusty old ladder that led up and down the floors of the Tribute Centre. Pondering whether he should try and go up or down, he glanced towards a rung in particular. The rung was, unlike the other metallic silver ones, painted in different hues of green, purple and grey.

Wonder what those meant.

Dangling his feet over the ledge, he placed a foot on the ladder. Instantly, it creaked and groaned, sounding almost like a dying animal. Coda drew back his foot and waited cautiously, listening carefully to see if anyone had heard him. But he couldn't hear anyone, or anything. Perhaps that was because there were few openings in sight, yet it gave Coda enough confidence to firmly step onto the ladder. There were creaks and groans galore, but this time, Coda didn't care. He pulled himself onto the ladder and slowly made his way down.

The further he went down, the more slippery the metal rungs felt. Coda's shoes nearly slid every once in a while but that wasn't reason to panic for him, he'd done this plenty of times before.

Passing by the second, first and ground floors, he saw that the ladder went down to multiple basement areas which, naturally, popped out as prime exploration zones. They, after all, were out of bounds to tributes and mentors alike, which only fuelled Coda's interest in the area.

Wonder what's down there, he thought to himself, gritting his teeth as his shoes nearly slipped off the ladder again. Assuming I do make it down there.

He arrived at a particularly large tunnel with a couple of glowsticks that lit the way forward. He stepped off here and squinted his eyes at the sudden burst of light. Once he'd gotten used to the newfound lighting, he waded forward.

Then it came to him that this particular tunnel might not even be abandoned at all.

Glowsticks, someone could be in here.

Dread crept and crawled up the side of his face. A slow, steady chill dripped through his bones as his heart began to race.

All of a sudden, he wasn't feeling so good about this whole expedition. If he got outed now, well, that was game over for him in the Hunger Games, that was for sure. He'd be blown up by the Gamemakers before the gong even rang.

Shit, shit, shit.

He clenched his fists, wondering if he really should continue on.

"You know you want to," a voice inside him beckoned, sounding an awful lot like Neon's. He sighed at the memory. Given a little bit more time, he really could've been something more with her. Yet, time had grown impatient with him, cutting short their days together like an executioner to an unexpecting victim.

One final adventure in her memory.

He elbowed his way forward, passing by dimly lit rooms that seemed completely empty at first, but at second glance hid a more sinister truth.

Avox dungeons.

Chains, whipping boards, soft, wordless moans of pain and suffering echoing like ghoulish voices through the walls. He could see them, the tiny, jam-packed beings trapped in an overcrowded enclosure, where unruly Peacekeepers hurled fruits and hard objects at them, their faint waves of laughter ever so clear in the quiet hellscape. The avoxes themselves were completely naked except for thin loincloths that were half-torn. They sat on damp sewage and Coda winced as he saw their shivering, terrified bodies huddling onto each other for support.

The sight nearly made him throw up.

"Oh gosh," he whimpered softly. The moans grew louder and louder.

"Hnngh! Hnngh!"

Cries for help, that was what they were. Silent screams of pain, a vain prayer for a saviour.

A saviour that would never arrive.

He shuddered, cold sweat pelting down the side of his neck. His stomach lurched and growled, unable to take in the sheer cruelty of the Capitol's treatment of these people.

Coda willed himself to move forward, moving on to the next opening, which was still dimly lit yet had none of the pain and torture that lay in the other room.

Two people, their faces obscured in the darkness, were conversing with each other.

Only they weren't speaking.

They were using sign language.

'Fourteen's plan, soon?' one of them signed.

'Yes, we just need to get the information first, then we use the tunnels to escape,' the other signed back.

Tunnels.

Shit.

So the tunnels were known by these people. Well, that put a serious dent in his exploration hopes.

Still, he tried not to faze himself out too much. They weren't using them now, so he had them hopefully all to himself for the night. As he continued to explore further, he stumbled upon a room that appeared to be empty. Sneaking in, he found a light switch after rubbing his hands along the side of the walls.

To his astonishment, it was a swimming pool, right here in the middle of the Tribute Centre.

Did Peacekeepers use this? Or maybe the more privileged mentors like Draco and Freya?

He checked the front door of the room. Sealed shut and bolted, so no one was expecting to be here for the night. There was a pair of swimming trousers and a towel on a nearby rack, which gave Coda a wicked idea.

After all, who was to say he wouldn't need a few swimming skills in the arena?