Chapter 25

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Real or not real? (M/N) was on fire. The balls of flames that erupted from the parachutes shot over the barricades, through the snowy air, and landed in the crowd. He was just turning away when one caught him, ran its tongue up the back of his body and transformed him into something new. A creature as unquenchable as the sun.

A fire mutt knew only a single sensation: agony. No sight, no sound, no feeling except the unrelenting burning of flesh. Perhaps there were periods of unconsciousness, but what did it matter if he couldn't find refuge in them? He was Keigo's bird, ignited, flying frantically to escape something inescapable. The feathers of flame that grew from his body. Beating his wings only fanned the blaze. He consumed himself, but to no end.

Finally, his wings began to falter, he lost height, and gravity pulled him into a foamy sea. He floated on his back, which continued to burn beneath the water, but the agony quietened to pain.

Deep in the water, he was deserted by all. There was only the sound of his breathing, the enormous effort it took to draw the water in, push it out of his lungs. He wanted to stop, he tried to hold his breath, but the sea forced its way in and out against his will. "Let me die. Let me follow the others," he begged whatever held him there. There was no response.

Trapped for days, years, centuries maybe. Dead, but not allowed to die. Alive, but as good as dead. So alone that anyone, anything no matter how loathsome would be welcome. But when he finally had a visitor, it was sweet.

Morphling. Coursing through his veins, easing the pain, lightening his body so that it rose back towards the air and rested again on the foam.

Foam. He really was floating on foam. He could feel it beneath the tips of his fingers, cradling parts of his naked body. There was so much pain but there was also something like reality. The sandpaper in his throat. The smell of burn medicine from the first arena. The sound of his mother's voice. These things frightened him, and he tried to return to the deep to make sense of them. But there was no going back. Gradually, he was forced to accept who he was. A badly burned boy with no wings. With no fire. And no sister.

In the dazzling white Capitol hospital, the doctors worked their magic on him. He heard over and over how lucky he was.His eyes were spared. Most of his face was spared. His lungs were responding to treatment. He would be as good as new in due time.

One day he awoke to expectations and knew he would not be allowed to live in his dreamland. He must take food by mouth. Move his own muscles. Make his way to the bathroom. A brief appearance by President Kaina confirmed it.

"Don't worry," she said. "I've saved him for you."

The doctors' puzzlement grew over why he was unable to speak. Many tests were done, and while there was damage to his vocal cords, it didn't account for it. Finally, a head doctor came up with the theory that he had become a mental, rather than physical, Avox. That his silence had been brought on by emotional trauma. Although he was presented with a hundred proposed remedies, he told them to leave (M/N) alone. So (M/N) didn't ask about anyone or anything, but people brought him a steady stream of information. On the war: the Capitol fell the day the parachutes went off, President Kaina was leading Panem now, and troops had been sent out to put down the small remaining pockets of Capitol resistance. On President Nezu: he was being held prisoner, awaiting trial and most certain execution. On (M/N)'s assassination team: Ryuko and Tamaki had been sent out into the districts to cover the wreckage of the war. Shoto, who took two bullets in an escape attempt, was mopping up Peacekeepers in 2. Denki was brought to the hospital after the war ended, he was much better now. Katsuki was still in the burn unit. He made it to the City Circle after all. On (M/N)'s family: his mother buried her grief in her work.

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