The Great War.

X

"Chain Reaction."

I haven't slept much, and I wish all of this would end as soon as possible. I had fantasized all night about winning the games on the first day. It would be the shortest competition in history. I'd be back in District Two in the blink of an eye, relishing in the splendor of my palace of bones.

Nouria arrives before dawn, handing me a simple burgundy tunic that symbolizes the impending start of this journey. We ride the elevator together, ascending to the roof; the final preparations take place in the catacombs beneath the stadium itself. A hovercraft emerges out of nowhere and drops a ladder.

I step onto the first rung, but as soon as I place my hand on it, I feel my body paralyzed. Some kind of electric current sticks me to the ladder until I am lifted inside that gigantic ship. The ladder doesn't release me upon arrival; I remain stuck to it as a man in a white coat approaches me with a syringe.

"It's your tracking device, Clove," he explains in a monotone voice. "Stay still so I can place it properly."

He talks to me as if I have the ability to move. That invisible force keeps me stuck to the ladder; my entire body is paralyzed. I feel a stinging pain as the needle inserts the metallic gadget under the skin of my forearm, and I know that the Gamemakers will now be able to track every single movement I make.

The man walks away, and an Avox girl approaches us, inviting us to follow her into a room where breakfast has been served. I have no appetite, but I try to eat as much as I can because I'm not sure if there will be food available in the arena. I have no idea what the Gamemakers have planned this year, but it's better not to enter the games on an empty stomach.

The trip takes about half an hour, and I watch the city disappear through the window while we silently have breakfast. The room darkens abruptly, suggesting that we have arrived at the stadium. The hovercraft lands, and Nouria leads me back to the staircase. This time, we descend into an underground tube that leads to the catacombs. We follow the instructions until we reach the chamber where the preparations take place.

In the Capitol, they refer to it as the launch room. I will be the first and only person to use this place since the arenas are historical sites preserved after the Games. They are turned into tourist attractions for Capitol residents. They can spend a month here, watch the Games again, explore the catacombs, visit the locations where the deaths occurred, and even participate in reconstructions of the events. I feel that given their fascination with the Games, it would be considerably more practical for them to volunteer as tributes as well, but no one states the obvious.

I shower and brush my teeth, and then Nouria pulls my hair up into a high and sleek ponytail, she splits it into little portions to form bubble-like shapes, similar to the hairstyle they gave for the interviews yesterday. Then the clothing arrives. It's the same for every tribute, and unlike the other activities I've participated in so far, Nouria hasn't planned this, but she helps me quickly put on the garments: reddish pants, a light green blouse, a sturdy brown belt, a black jacket with a hood, a pair of boots, and socks with a flexible rubber sole. I have a feeling that we will be running a lot or maybe even climbing. I hope they didn't come up with the idea of placing us on a mountain because I'm not a big enthusiast of heights.

Nouria examines the clothes for a bit before deciding to speak for the first time today.

"Thermal fabrics," she says. "Try not to lose anything."

On one occasion, the tributes were thrown into a scorching desert. The sweltering heat prompted many of them to get rid of their coats, only to later realize the grave mistake they had made. Three of them tragically died during the first night as the temperature plummeted, leaving their bodies unable to withstand the brutal climate.