The Capitol had a way of turning horror into theater.
By the time Vince and Katniss stepped into the prep bay, the air hummed with anticipation — designers rushing about, lights flooding the space, cameras ready to immortalize every detail.
Cinna waited for them, calm amid chaos. His gold eyeliner caught the light as he smiled.
"You two are from the coal district, right? Then let's give them fire."
Katniss frowned. "Fire?
Cinna's grin widened. "Yes. If they burn us, we burn brighter."
The words hit Vince harder than they should have. Burn brighter. For a moment, he imagined Panem itself saying that — the land, the ashes, the people crushed beneath the Capitol's heel. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
The System flickered faintly in his vision.
Quest Update: "Symbolism in Motion."
Influence Modifier Engaged.
He ignored it and stepped onto the platform where the chariot waited. The costume clung to him like a second skin, black as the mines, threaded with faint metallic veins.
He caught a glimpse of Katniss beside him — her dress a shadowed shimmer that hinted at embers.
"Hold on," Cinna said, flipping a small switch. Flames — harmless but vivid — licked along the seams of their suits. The crowd gasped as the glow caught. The doors opened.
The noise outside was a living thing. Music, screams, applause — all folding into one heartbeat that seemed to echo in his chest.
As the chariot began to move, Katniss stiffened beside him. Vince leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for her to hear.
"Don't look down. Look through them. They want a show — let's give them something real."
She turned her head slightly, meeting his eyes. For a moment, her fear steadied into focus. Together, they raised their hands.
The reaction was immediate — a roar of approval so intense it felt physical.
The flames reflected off the Capitol's mirrored towers, two figures of light burning against a sky too clean to remember smoke.
Vince's heart thudded. He could feel it — that connection between spectacle and defiance.
The Capitol thought it owned this fire. It didn't. He looked toward the President's balcony and saw Snow watching — perfectly still, perfectly composed. But there was a flicker there, barely visible: interest.
The System's text appeared, sharp and insistent. Historic Divergence Detected.
Public Perception: Unpredictable Variable — "The Fire from the Ashes."
Vince didn't care. He just raised Katniss's hand higher, the two of them blazing in the cold Capitol night.
When the parade ended, the noise still echoed in his skull. Back inside, Katniss leaned against the wall, eyes wide, hair singed at the tips.
"They loved us," she whispered.
"No," Vince said quietly. "They noticed us. That's different."
She looked at him, confused. "You sound like you wanted that."
He hesitated, then shrugged. "Maybe I did."
The truth was heavier — the System had been silent the entire time, watching. He could feel it humming somewhere behind his eyes, analyzing, recording.
Cinna entered with a soft smile. "You two just became legends," he said.
Vince almost smiled back. "Legends are just people with better timing."
Later that night, he found himself standing on the balcony of his suite, the city spread out below like a circuit board of light.
He'd seen this scene before — not here, but in his old world. On screens, in pixels, always distant. Now it was alive beneath him, real enough to hate.
He whispered to the empty air, "You wanted this, didn't you?"
The System pulsed once.
Observation: Correct.
His stomach turned. "Why?"
Because symbols endure.
Then it went quiet again.
Vince stared into the skyline, his reflection faint against the glass — not the same man who had arrived trembling on the train.
He looked like someone who'd stepped out of fire and hadn't decided yet whether to fear it or feed it.
He didn't smile. Didn't move. Just watched the lights and whispered, "If you're going to make me a symbol, I'll choose what I stand for."
The city didn't answer. But somewhere, deep inside the silence, the System was listening.