AS SOON AS IKO HAD SPLIT OFF TOWARDS THE SHOOTING RANGE, Alex picked a spear off the weapons rack, testing the feel of its weight in his palm. He'd thrown at least a million spears in his lifetime, and could tell which ones would fit him at a glance, which had saved him a lot of his training time. But these spears were Capitol-grade, made of a lighter material than the ones back home, which meant he had to reacquaint himself with the balance and the weight.

On reflex, Alex made to turn to make a comment about it to Iko, but caught himself in time. Irritation feathered his jaw. They should've been standing together, waiting for the other Career tributes to approach them, establishing themselves as a formidable duo.

It was something that stuck since they began training together at the Academy, no matter the circumstances, no matter where they were, they were two parts of a whole. After a set of standardised assessments to evaluate their abilities, every trainee was tethered to a partner of complimentary capabilities. The moment they were assigned to a partner, they lost the right to be an individual. Operating on a pair-based system drilled a binary solidarity into every movement, every reflex, every instinct, every fibre of their being. His success was her success. Her failure was his failure. Where one went, the other was never far behind. Together, they trained until they smoothed out the flaws and began working like twin parts of a flawless machine. Failure to obey the strict rules of the system resulted in brutal punishment.

This time, Iko wasn't even within hearing range. Ever since the Reaping, she'd made it a personal mission to put as much distance between them, which was an understandable response to his blindsiding her when he'd volunteered. It gutted him, too, that only one of them would make it out of this alive, but he shoved down the eminent thought, tried not to think so far into the future. His only duty now was to watch her back. And they couldn't afford to fall apart now. Not here. Not when their unity was their greatest advantage.

She'll come around, he thought, but it was without conviction as he readied his throw. She's smart. She wouldn't jeopardise her chances of going home.

His first spear skewered the target through the bullseye. He forced himself not to check if Iko was looking.

It was when he was going back for a second that the boy from District 1 approached him and struck up conversation. Titus, he'd introduced himself, and Alex was a little smug that the boy come up to him rather than the other way round. That was the way it should be. Shortly after, Opal, his district partner realised that she wasn't going to be approached by any of the Career tributes, finished up at the swords station, and made her way over to the two boys to make her introductions. They trained together at the spears for awhile, Alex taking the lead in distance throws, and Titus making his valiant attempts to best him.

In that short space of time, Alex learnt a great deal about his allies. Titus had been training since he was old enough to run, couldn't stand failure, and carried his pride like a vital organ in his chest. Things going his way had always been the way the universe worked. Alex wondered how that would play out in the Games.

Opal, long-limbed and made of pure muscle, wasn't that different, except she didn't bow to her pride like Titus. Instead, she bowed to old gods and dead saints and sought counsel from ancestors. Religion had been rescinded in District 2—gods didn't exist to them; prayers weren't holy. In District 2, belief wasn't placed in the hands of anything suppositional. Only the idea of success and brutality and discipline were indoctrinated into children from the day they were born. They relied on weapons and training and results. Religion—or anything as arcane as that had no place in their cold, clinical world. Alex found it a little difficult to understand why she held onto the cross around her neck like it granted her salvation. But he deigned to comment. One saving grace of sticking with the District 1 tributes was that Opal was more reserved than Titus, a little like Iko, who saved her words for where they mattered, and pointed out flaws in other tributes under her breath so only Alex and Titus could hear. Even though her aim held true, even though she matched him in his spear-throwing abilities, Alex found it even harder to pinpoint where Opal's aggression came from. Hand-in-hand with her faith, she seemed level-headed, calm to the point of no reaction when her spear missed the bullseye by a whisper, unlike her district partner who snarled each time his spear fell a smudge short.

"So, your district partner," Titus started, as they were making their way to the swords station, bypassing the agility and survival stations. "Why isn't she with you now?"

Keeping his expression carefully blank, Alex fought to prevent his frustration from showing. If he showed Titus that he was bothered by Iko's absence, taking leadership of the Career pack would be a lost cause. He couldn't let control slip from him like that, just because of one slip-up.

"She's been buzzing about the weapons since we got here," Alex said, feigning nonchalance as he shrugged, the lie coming easy to him, "couldn't wait to get her hands on them. She told me she was collect more allies for us, too, so if that's her goal, I trust her to do it efficiently."

Titus' expression twisted. A dubious look crossed his sharp features before a smirk overtook his lips. "Trust is child's play. But, we'll see how your... partner does."

Alex picked up a sword off the rack. He didn't like the way Titus was looking at him. Like he was already questioning his decisions. Not that his district partner was his choice, in any way. From the playback of the Reapings, Titus must've scouted his potential allies, making snap judgements on who he wanted on his side. Iko was a lot smaller than the conventional Career tribute, but her deadliness wasn't compromised by her stature. Alex could already see the underestimation working its way into Titus' head, a slow poison that would no doubt get him killed in the Games.

With a sword in hand, Opal slanted an indecipherable look at Titus, who merely shrugged.

"Trust is fundamental in this alliance," Opal said, her silky voice steady as a current in a flowing river, as she tested the weight of her chosen weapon. When Titus cut her an incendiary glare, she brought her sword round in a clean stroke, pointing the glinting tip towards their right. "See for yourself."

Alex and Titus followed the path of her gaze to a ring of simulated moving targets above a pressure-sensitive floor, lit up by tiles of white-blue light. And there Iko was. A perpetual motion machine. Moving like dry lightning, the blade of her katana flashing under the fluorescent lights, decimating the simulated opponents in lethal and precise strokes. Teeth bared like she was out for blood. Out for glory. Her dark hair, swept into a tight ponytail behind her head, whipped around her shoulders like a black strip of silk. By her side, a girl with red hair slashed and hacked at the simulated targets. District 4, Alex recognised. Sage Kovacs. Tall build, easily matching Opal and Titus in size, strong swimmer's shoulders. The two girls moved almost in synchrony. When the simulation ended, the station master called them off the ring. District 4 turned to Iko with a savage grin, and said something. Iko returned it with a cold smile.

Looks like they had one more ally in the bag.

Frowning, Titus spun his sword in his hands, not liking that he was proven wrong so easily. Especially by his district partner.

In a flash, Titus pivoted and had his sword buried in the heart of a stationary dummy. Affecting aloofness, Titus said, "the harder part's about application."

Alex didn't doubt that for a second. But if Alex didn't kill him first, he had every confidence Iko would skewer Titus in three seconds flat if he wasn't useful to the alliance. Clamping his self-control over the urge to punch the living daylights out of Titus for dismissing Iko's abilities, Alex turned to wave Iko over with the hand he ought to knock every tooth out of Titus' head with.

* * *

OPAL. TITUS. SAGE. ELIAS.

With Sage trailing after Iko as she cut across the training facility, ignoring the other tributes who skirted around the two Career tributes like nervous animals, towards Alex, who was flanked by both District 1 tributes, that left Elias, who had yet to be inducted into the arsenal of the arena's deadliest alliance. Brick by brick, Iko thought, again. That's how you build your throne.

"About time." A lazy smirk curved Titus' lips as he gave Sage an appreciative once-over. His eyes passed over Iko in disinterest as she stopped by Alex's side. He stuck his hand out in the most condescending handshake Iko had ever seen; arm straightened and his wrist kept loose, like a lord expecting a subject to kiss his knuckles. "I'm Titus."

When they were reviewing the recaps of the Reapings, Iko had already made her surface assessment of Titus. Now, though, she was satisfied to know that she was right about him. Even more satisfying was the fact that he'd approached Alex unprompted rather than the other way round. The power was in District 2's hands.

"Sage," Sage said, flashing a toothy grin, equal parts menace and mirth. She grasped Titus' hand in a crushing handshake. "Aren't we a devastating bunch?"

"Saw you two at the katanas just now," Opal remarked. Her expression was closed-off, indecipherable, but her stare was weighted as her eyes raked over Iko, sizing her up like a tailor examining a suit in need of altering, noting where the stitches were loose and where the fabric could be shortened, before moving onto Sage. But Iko took measurements of her own. District 1 female, almost six feet tall, impressive calf muscles and rock solid biceps, athletic build and critical eyes. With her size advantage and the way she was built with lean muscle, Opal looked like she would be hell in hand-to-hand combat. Opal offered them a civil grin. "Nice work."

Iko had spotted Opal at the swords station earlier, before she'd joined Alex and Titus by the spear-throwing station. Saying she could handle a sword would've been a major understatement.

"So, what are your specialties?" Titus asked, arching a brow.

"Specialising in one weapon isn't the way we were brought up," Iko said, in a tone made of icicles cutting down to the bone. This wasn't boasting. This was fact. "We train with all or we don't train at all."

Smirking, Titus cocked his head. "Fascinating."

"Are we done here?" Sage asked, looking almost bored. "Or are we gonna stand around comparing dicks instead of training?"

"Where's your partner?" Titus asked, lifting a brow as he eyed Sage incredulously, taking in her broad shoulders and sun-browned skin.

"He's a shrimp," Sage said, with a derisive flick of her fingers. "We're better off without him."

Titus hummed, side-eyeing Iko. "Best to relieve ourselves of burdens earlier than later."

Iko's temper flared, but she wasn't interested in engaging with his obvious jab. Alex laid a hand on her shoulder, his expression severe. Titus would pay. Later, if not sooner. He'd learn to eat his words while she carved her name into his skin. Letter by letter. Who's the monster now?

"Think what you want, Flounder," Sage snarled, the grin on her lips morphing into something darker, "but we'll see who gets the most kills after the Bloodbath."

Despite her earlier judgement, Iko was beginning to like Sage more and more as she dismantled Titus' ego.

They abandoned the boys at the archery station, which Iko knew without even having to look at the Gamemakers assessing them from their elevated loft, that Alex was dominating with a blinding lethality. Both Sage and Opal were immediately drawn to the guns, admiring the different models displayed on the weapons racks as though they were picking fruit from the market. Without much ceremony, Iko shouldered past the short queue of tributes anxiously waiting their turn on the moving targets, and snatched up five knives from the gleaming rack of weapons.

Iko cut to the front of the line, brusquely shoving the girl tribute from District 6 who glanced down at Iko, bristling in irritation.

"Excuse me—"

"No," Iko cut her off in a tone as calm as a hurricane lurking offshore, the quiet before the storm strikes. Better to remedy insolence sooner. If a dog wasn't going to listen to its master, beat it until it learnt how to. "Wait in line, fledgling."

Before the furious tribute could say more, Iko stepped onto the starting mark. The furthest line from the target was thirty yards. Who did they think she was? She'd thrown knives from thrice as far as this. Thirty yards was child's play.

Nodding at the trainer standing by a large red button Iko assumed was meant to activate the moving targets, she readied her stance. Once again, the familiarity and relief of finally having a real weapon in her hand rushed to her head in a bout of adrenaline pumping through her veins like ignited gasoline. Five knives, four targets. She'll show them. They'll all learn how to be afraid of her.

When the first target lit up a bright orange, Iko didn't even have to think before the knife found its way into its heart. Bullseye. She could feel the eyes trained on her back, and smirked at the attention she was already garnering. Iko watched the second target as it whizzed back and forth at a sluggish pace. With a single flick of her wrist, the second knife lodged itself dead-centre into its head. A shot between the eyes. The trainer at the station was grinning maniacally at the display. He must've seen some awful performance earlier if he was this impressed by her.

A third knife found the bullseye at the centre of another moving body target. Following the momentum of the motion, she spun round fast and flung the fourth knife, a vicious blade with a serrated edge straight at the fourth target. It shot through the air, the lethal thud as it sank into the target resonating like a guillotine in that enclosed space.

The fifth knife, she saved. This throw, she closed her eyes and felt the whole world fall dead. All eyes on her, forgotten. This throw, it was just her, the target, and the last knife in hand.

Steady breaths guided her hand. In the back of her mind, she could visualise all the targets. She'd studied their erratic, seemingly randomised patterns of movement. Without having to look, she knew where they would be. Back at the Academy, she had practiced this exact move millions of times over and over again. Her old trainer held fast to the belief that if you couldn't throw blind, you were basically useless. She'd been trained to aim at targets from periphery, from behind, from above, and down below. The worst had been when her trainer had decided that her talent was hollow if she couldn't throw with her eyes closed. The number of times she'd had to stop herself from rushing at him, with all the frustration and rage of a thousand suns spilling from the cracks in her schooled facade had been frighteningly high.

And so Iko had been executing this sort of throw for years on end. Her failures had led to successes. She wasn't allowed to give up. Giving up meant losing and Iko was not going to lose. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

Inhale. Nothing else mattered. Exhale. The knife was humming in her hands, alive, electric. In. She fell into the throwing stance her muscles already felt all-too relaxed in. Out. She reeled her arm back. In. A beat passed. Out. In a flash, she brought it forward in a smooth arc and flung it right where she envisioned the target to be. In. Her eyes flicker open and she watched as the blade cut through the air, like a tiny freight train, towards the target. It embedded itself into the middle of the target where a heart should've been.

Satisfied with her work, Iko cocked her head and turned to the tributes at the station. Only, there were none in line. They'd all scattered just as she'd finished. Those left watching were wide-eyed, unadulterated fear coalesced in their irises. All the lambs deserting their pen when the wolf came prowling out of the woods, flashing its teeth.

Automatically, Iko's gaze sought out the archery station, where Alex stood at the centre of a simulated arena, the floor glowing with a blue light as moving targets launched themselves at him. Without taking his eyes off them, Alex nocked three arrows and let them all fly. They sunk into the heads of three targets before they could even gain ground. The way he moved was almost effortless. Iko had watched him train countless times, but, still, it fascinated her. In his element, he was flawless, the perfect monster. Deadly and precise, his focus unerring, knife-bright and sharp where he needed it to be. With every movement, his muscles rippled. Alex was tall, a lithe figure sculpted to perfection from years of gruelling training. But just because he was big didn't mean he was without grace or agility. His manoeuvres were carefully calculated, every step honed by instinct. A dark glint in his eyes told of some unchained bloodlust. He'd run out of bodies before he'd run out of fire. Every arrow landed true, killing the simulations instantly. When it was over, when the carnage around him blinked out and vanished, Alex turned to Titus with a pleased grin. As soon as the simulated battlefield went down, the tributes watching him seemed to snapped out of their trances, averting their gazes like the bashful girls back in school who kept shooting surreptitious glances his way, hoping he would look back and give them the time of the day.

Dumping the empty quiver on the ground, Alex clapped Titus on the shoulder, signifying his turn. Titus tapped two fingers to his temple in a mock salute. He turned to the stationary targets instead, probably wanting to get a feel of the weapon before he went into the simulation. In practised move, he nocked the arrow, took aim, and let it fly. It pierced through the head, just shy of the centre, but it was close enough to be a kill-shot all the same.

Flipping the knife in her hand one last time, Iko took careful aim, something she hadn't done in a long time, and hurled it at the target with all the strength she could gather. However, the knife wasn't aimed at the bullseye this time. No. There was a dry crack of wood as the silver blade met the protruding end of the arrow, splitting the sleek stem right down the middle.

As Iko approached the group, Titus' efforts to keep his hanging jaw off the ground were fruitless as he gawked at the ruined arrow, and then flicked his stare towards her. Across the room, Sage was distracted by target practise, every ricochet of her gunshots resonating throughout the facility. But, as she waited in line for her turn, Opal nodded thoughtfully at the display, a finger curling around the pendant of her necklace—her district token. An arm folded across his chest, Alex put a fist against his mouth, but the devilish glimmer in his deep eyes was enough to denote the laughter he was attempting to hide beneath the smug smirk curling his lips.

"Was there a point you wanted to make?" Titus asked skeptically, narrowing his eyes into accusatory slits.

Satisfied with his reaction, Iko flicked him a cool look. "Just wondering if we should relieve ourselves of any burdens."

* * *

WHEN THE TRAINERS ANNOUNCED A LUNCH BREAK FOR THE TRIBUTES, Alex waved Iko over to his table, where Titus sat, waving his fork with dramatic flair, chewing with his mouth open, drawing all the attention to himself, while Opal ate in silence, visibly shutting out her partner. Sage and Iko were returning from their last go at the guns. From rifles to short arms, they blew holes in paper targets at different ranges. Before that, they'd met up at the rock climbing station. Iko learnt quickly that if she wasn't swimming in the sea with her friends, Sage spent most of her time scaling the cliffs behind her house back in District 4. For a girl as big as Sage, her nimble movements were suffused with powerful grace. She'd beaten Iko to the top.

Eyes trailed the Careers, but their skin was made from the military-grade steel they were forged from, and the resentment, the envy from tributes who never stood a chance from the moment they were handpicked by fate—all of it glanced off them as if they didn't feel a thing. And they didn't, because they were trained to purge their emotions and leave their empathy lying in the graves of their childhood, but they kept a tally of the hearts they struck fear into like a body count. Opposite Titus, Opal absently stirred her bowl of broth, spooning bits of meat and potatoes into her mouth while she listened to Titus boast about his training days and rankings and statistics which didn't matter enough for Iko to pay attention to.

"...and, yeah, I might have been the quickest out of my cohort to throw a spear and actually have it stick in the bullseye in our second year at the Academy—" Titus paused briefly in his rambling, before returning to his one-sided conversation. Alex sent Iko a surreptitious grin. Iko lifted a brow.

Between both District One tributes, there had to be a brain somewhere. Iko assumed it was with Opal.

"Hey, guys," Sage chirped, beaming as if she were greeting her own group of friends from back home. "How's it been?"

Without ceremony, Sage dropped into the seat beside Opal while Alex lifted his leg off the chair he'd been saving for Iko, which she took, setting her tray down beside his. Already, Titus seems to have wolfed down half his lunch. The food on Alex's tray was untouched. He'd been waiting for Iko.

"Amazing," Opal said, cordially. "The weapons are surprisingly flawless."

"They're Capitol grade," Alex pointed out. "Even the weapons made in District 2 can't match up to this fine quality."

"No wonder the spears fly so smoothly," Sage sighed, a wistful smile on her lips.

Iko picked up her fork. Alex did the same.

With an iron vehemence, Iko shut down the creeping reminder of the weaknesses on the flip-side of such a watertight bond. A deadweight ready to explode in her face. To mitigate the side effects of attachment, the trainers kept a close eye on them all. If a pair got too comfortable with one another, it'd result in separation. At any point during the training year, pairs could be pulled apart and partners could be reallocated. Even though they'd consistently held the title as the most promising pair of their cohort for a solid four years, Iko and Alex had been subjected to a change in partnership halfway through last year, which meant they'd had to relearn everything from scratch, from the way they oriented themselves around their new partners to their little habits and how to recompense for each others' vulnerabilities.

Iko had been expected to enter this year's Games with her training-assigned partner as her district partner. Until administration changed their minds.

"Is this all of us, then?" Sage asked.

Titus lifted a brow. "Who else would we be recruiting? I mean, none of those worms out there would last three days in the arena."

Iko and Alex traded a knowing look. They'd agreed to keep their list a secret. All through out training, Iko had been watching Elias in periphery, waiting for a chance to talk to him. His district partner hadn't been at his side once. It seems like they've abandoned each other even before they could be a team. Aside from that, Elias hadn't once looked at the weapons stations, let alone made an attempt to try any. All this time, he'd spent on the survival stations, the agility station, and the climbing station—that's what brought Iko there in the first place, where, coincidentally, Sage had been as well. Either Elias knew his weaknesses, or he was hiding something.

Iko arched a brow, as if to say: Should we tell them?

Subtly, Alex shook his head.

"Give it until tomorrow," Alex said, lowering his voice so only she could hear. He must've been watching the District 10 boy, too, noticed how he slinked about the harmless stations, solo, untethered to any alliances as far as Iko and Alex knew. "Let him come to us. The power imbalance is noticeable. If he joins us, he'll have a higher chance of surviving. If he doesn't, he knows that the Career pack will hunt him down to eliminate him first because he's a threat as long as he lives."

"Yeah? And what if he doesn't?"

"Then we know he's stupid enough to try his luck alone."

AUTHOR'S NOTE.
thoughts????
i seriously cannot wait to get to the scenes in the arena!!!!!