Atsali Brant, 27
Head Gamemaker

It was college all over again. Not just college, but freshman year. No, not college. Middle school. It was that mortifying first time giving a presentation in front of class. Was he about to make a total moron of himself? Had he gotten anything right at all? He was about to go in front of an audience and see the fruit of the project he'd masterminded - the work of months but the legacy of a lifetime. But this wasn't a bunch of bored kids and a teacher who was only interested in government standards. This was the entire nation - a nation very recently divided and looking for a reason to restart the fight. Atsali sat behind his desk sipping water nervously as he watched the broadcasts begin.

It was a massive relief that Dante was the first escort to appear. Panem's introduction to the Hunger Games was that seven-foot goofball cracking jokes and setting everyone at ease. Everything was working so far- the Reaping centers were full, the fingerprint system was working, the bowls were all set up. An electronic system would have been far more efficient, but it would have been far less aesthetic. There had been no major disturbances yet. Atsali had every confidence that would not last.

Atsali had been dying with curiosity to see the first two participants in his project. It was a stroke of fortune that One was the most attractive District. He would have been disappointed to have his first two kids be duds.

Alicia Patterson's name would go down in history, no matter what happened in the Games. No one would forget the very first person ever Reaped. Atsali was pleased to see the girl was an older teen. He stood behind his age range, but he was glad to avoid the optics of a twelve-year-old right off the bat. The girl walked to the stage hesitantly as the others parted around her. She stood self-consciously on the stage, unsure what to do. Then Olivia Desmerais wiped her name from everyone's mind with four words.

"I volunteer as Tribute!"

"Yeah!" Atsali slapped the desk in excitement. Right off the bat, a volunteer! His worries evaporated like smoke. Even the victims were behind him. Even the Districts were going to play his game. He was supposed to be impartial, but he had to admit he hoped the best for the plucky, jewel-bedecked girl who took the stage as Alicia looked to Dante for confirmation and then scampered.

"I volunteer as Tribute!"

Atsali suppressed the urge to overturn his desk in triumph. What better vindication than a double volunteer from his first District? And Jerome was both handsome and physically fit. It was of course the hope that someone who looked like a Capitolite would win. Either of these two would be wonderful assets.

The stream did not continue with Two. Cassandra Flint became the first Reaped participant. Atsali recognized her name from the various rebels in her family. It was a stroke of luck that the Games would tie up a loose end- though the Reapings had endless potential for rigging, this one was the luck of the draw. Rosinante was also a non-volunteer. Neither of them said more than their names onstage, leaving Atsali all the more grateful for the splash One made.

Three was going to be a heavy hitter in the Games. They already had a reputation for stellar academic performance. A few strategic additions to the Cornucopia would give them all they needed to make a scene. Which was good, since neither Chrome nor Copper gave him anything to work with. They could have been a pair of poker players. The closest thing to excitement was when Copper froze and it briefly looked like the Peacekeepers would have to retrieve her.

Cove was the most expressive participant yet. The boy looked pissed as he took the stage. Atsali was starting to be able to visualize the carnage and drama this bunch would get up to. Mireyah- "Mira", as she introduced herself after giving her full name- was more subdued. She must have something to prove, seeing as she volunteered, but it would have to be revealed in time.

Euphoria had something up her sleeve. She was the first Reaped Tribute to stride onstage like she was at a concert and confidently joke around with her escort. Atsali felt bad smiling a little at Selma's bemusement. His escort colleague was more about equations than laughter. She was even more bemused when Lumos apparently didn't exist. It took Peacekeepers filing out into the children for the boy to finally step up.

"Did you not hear?" Selma asked when he reached the stage at last.

"Tell you the truth, I was hoping you'd pick another name," he admitted.

It was eerie for Atsali to know he was looking at a dead boy. There was no way Ezra would win, just looking at him. That short, pale, timid boy? Atsali couldn't imagine how he'd gotten the nerve to volunteer. Not the audacity, but simply the courage. He had to give the boy that. He was going to die, but he had the guts to try. It wasn't a good year for Six at all. Kassidi was the youngest Tribute yet at fourteen, and he couldn't imagine the girl weighed a hundred pounds. She started hyperventilating as Pashmina introduced them. It gave Atsali a little pain in his heart to see the escort give her a reassuring little hug. The girl was so small for her age that she looked almost like Pashmina's daughters.

Six and Seven packed a one-two punch. Atsali had been so sure about the Games and their power to keep the nation together with the smallest sacrifice possible. It was harder to see that as he watched a thirteen-year-old boy crying as a dark spot spread on his pants. Atsali never told anyone, but that night in bed, he wondered if he was the good guy. Years later, as he watched what his dream had become, it was one of the moments that defined it to him. Twiglet's partner Maple was barely better. She was sixteen at least, but she was crying right alongside him as Jemimah tutted at their interruption of her duties, far too prim and professional to reveal any compassion.

From the scars he sported, Atsali guessed Cotton was part of the gangs that plagued Eight. That, or he'd gotten tangled up in factory machinery a few times. The boy didn't reveal much- he might have been unbothered or he might have just been hiding it. Ashleen was similarly quiet. The two of them left some heavy lifting for Mercy, who reinflated the energy by coaxing them into some small talk. Atsali could already tell Mercy was going to be an asset. They had a talent for drawing Tributes out. If they ever got bored of escorting, maybe they could be the interviewer.

Gala Blessing was the Games' first hero. Atsali was shocked when the skinny fourteen-year-old volunteered. He was aghast when she revealed the reason. Volunteering for a friend? No friend was worth that. Especially not from someone small - they were clearly throwing their life away. If you asked Atsali, she wasn't to be admired for her courage but pitied for her naivety. It was an unbelievable coincidence that the Nine boy did the same thing. At least Mark had a chance, though. He was a healthy-looking farm boy. Then again, he clearly had no sense of self-preservation.

Lain was so terrified she couldn't speak. Then, when Basileus boisterously addressed her, she reached into her jacket and took out a pad of paper.
"'I can't talk. I hurt my vocal cords'," Basileus read aloud. "Oh, gracious! Not able to talk? I'd rather die!" He thought about what he'd said. "I suppose that was poor taste."

Bull made up for his partner's quiet with his own presence. "Guess it's my lucky day," he said in that hilarious accent Tens had, and he tipped his on-the-nose cowboy hat. Clearly this boy was willing to play up to expectations. Atsali made a note to give him lots of airtime.

Atsali couldn't have made it up if he tried. Twins? One Reaped? The other volunteering? Oh, the drama! Lane wouldn't have to do any work at all! Which might be a good thing. Judging from the escort's expression, she might have been feeling just a little hesitation about the whole deal. Hard not to when two twins were hugging each other and trying not to cry. The only thing pricking into all those sentiment was the name Silage. Isn't that piled-up cow food? Who names their kid after that? And like… Silage goes in a silo. That's… a weird name set for siblings.

When Twelve rolled around, Atsali realized he'd been so invested in the Tributes that he'd forgotten his worries about the Games. They would come back later, he was sure, but he was weirdly disappointed that this was the last pair he would get to meet until next year.

There was a tightness in Canaan's voice as he introduced himself. Atsali didn't know how such a plain-looking boy, so shrimpy and covered in what looked like acne scars, could be so confident. It was clear the boy thought he was far above all of this. He'd soon learn differently, Atsali thought grimly. He had much higher hopes for Rita. She was a tough-looking girl and he somehow guessed that the people who gave her those scars left the fight with marks of their own.

When the last Reaping was over, the screen cut to a commercial break. Atsali sat back in his chair, exhaling deeply. No one had gone nuts. There had been no riots… yet. Twenty-four kids were successfully Reaped. After all the buildup, it was oddly underwhelming to see it actually happen. It really was happening. The Hunger Games were underway.