When the black fog finally lifted, Reis felt as if the earth had been reborn beneath his feet.
The darkness retreated slowly, drawing back its curtain to reveal a hidden scene, and as it cleared, the outlines of a strange city began to emerge.
Its towers pierced the sky in search of a light yet unborn, and its glasslike streets stretched in silence toward a horizon beyond time itself, reaching for a world not yet made.
The scent of heavy perfume mingled with a faint smoke that filled the air, and the echo of music rose from every direction.
The rhythm swelled suddenly, then fell, as if the city itself were celebrating a grand crime it was about to commit.
Reis moved through the crowd with steady steps that knew no hesitation. His eyes observed everything, showing no interest in anything.
His clothing had changed as well. A fitted black shirt, gray trousers, and dark leather shoes gleamed beneath the lights.
He was no longer out of place, but rather another reflection among those who filled the streets with hollow laughter and artificial smiles.
People laughed and raised their glasses in celebration, and Reis understood they were toasting someone's death, not their life.
In the middle of the street, massive screens flickered to life above the buildings, streaming rapid images.
Children stood in vast squares, banners before them bearing the image of a bird devouring itself in flame, and beneath it, bold words glowed.
"Let the Hunger Games begin".
The city trembled with a single, thunderous cheer, and a woman's voice rose from hidden speakers, soft yet commanding, filling every corner.
"The districts will begin the selection ceremony shortly. Let the Capitol preserve order, and let all remember that sacrifice is an honor".
Reis stopped. His eyes lingered on the screen for a long moment before he exhaled a calm, cold breath and thought to himself.
"In this world, honor is measured by how skillfully you kill".
Around him, the noise swelled again. A group of young men nearby spoke in anxious excitement.
"They say this year is completely different. The number of tributes has doubled to a hundred".
"One hundred people? Impossible. No one will survive past the third day".
"I heard some of them aren't even from the districts, strangers from beyond our borders".
A faint smile crossed Reis's face, but he said nothing.
Inside, he understood immediately. The system had not been satisfied with this world's people. It had brought its players as well.
So he was not the only one from the Tower.
He walked on until he reached a wide square draped in banners, where hundreds stood in perfect lines like a choir waiting for its cue.
The ground shimmered beneath their feet, and towers loomed around them on every side.
On the central platform stood a bald man in a gleaming blue coat embroidered with gold threads. He raised his hands with false confidence and shouted through the speakers.
"Sons and daughters of District Twelve, the moment of pride has come. Today we choose the one who will bear our name in the Hunger Games".
The crowd erupted in applause and cheers, while beside him, a woman with long violet hair stepped forward carrying a transparent box filled with small white slips.
She reached inside, drew the first slip with an exaggerated smile, and announced.
"The first lady, Elian Darrow".
Heads turned toward a slender girl of sixteen who stood frozen in place.
Someone nudged her from behind, and she took a trembling step forward.
Her face was pale, her hands shook as she climbed the platform amid scattered applause laced with pity.
The woman returned to the box, hesitated for a moment, then drew the next slip with visible unease.
"The second tribute, Dark Ashes".
The murmuring fell silent all at once.
Faces turned in confusion, voices dropped until nothing remained.
The name sounded foreign, belonging to no district, hovering in the air without an owner, yet everyone felt a chill run through them.
Reis stood at the back of the rows, completely still. His gaze did not waver. He showed neither surprise nor concern.
He walked forward slowly and steadily until he reached the platform. He looked at no one, responded to no applause, and simply stood there in deadly calm.
The light reflecting on his face sharpened his features, a silent, stone-like expression watching a tragedy that no longer concerned him.
He lifted his eyes slightly toward the gray sky and thought quietly.
"Dark Ashes. It seems the system has taken my name from the global ranking".
Beside him, Elian trembled in silence. She stepped closer and whispered.
"You're not from our district, are you?".
He did not turn, nor did his expression change. His voice was calm, deep, devoid of tone.
"I'm from a place where games aren't played. They're created".
Before the woman could close the box, a guard leaned toward the bald man and whispered something in his ear. The man straightened and declared loudly.
"By special decree from the Capitol, a third tribute will be added to this year's Hunger Games".
A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd. The woman reached quickly into the box and pulled out another slip.
"The third tribute, Kayle Rodan".
From the far end of the square, a young man with blond hair stepped forward, moving through the people with quiet composure. His head was high, his face unreadable.
He looked at no one and showed no fear. He climbed the platform silently and stood beside Reis.
Their eyes met for a brief moment. They did not speak.
There was no need. Each understood the other instantly.
Strangers in a world that did not know them, born of the same place, driven by the same purpose, unafraid of death.
Trumpets blared again as the crowd erupted in applause and cheers.
The woman raised her arms and shouted with an exaggerated smile.
"Here they are, the champions of District Twelve. Let the celebration begin".
Amid the roar of the crowd, Reis stood motionless, his face expressionless, his eyes drifting over the people without interest.
He thought to himself in glacial calm.
"A celebration of delayed death. How beautiful".
The soldiers, clad in black uniforms, advanced from among the rows and escorted the candidates through the stone passage toward the silver train bound for the Capitol.
A long metallic body gleamed beneath the lights, exhaling thick clouds of steam into the air.
The crowd screamed and waved flags as colored confetti rained from the sky.
It was madness made ritual, a celebration of death disguised as entertainment.
...
Inside the opulent train, Reis sat silently by the wide window, saying nothing.
Beyond the glass, the city slowly receded, fading into a blur of light behind a veil of gray mist.
Across from him, Elian sat with her arms wrapped around her chest, her face pale as paper.
Beside her, the young man, Kayle, leaned forward slightly, smiling faintly.
"Your name is Dark Ashes, isn't it? I saw you in the global ranking, the one who achieved an SS rating on the first floor".
Reis did not reply.
Silence lingered until Kayle spoke again, his tone light but edged with warning.
"Don't worry, I won't come near you inside the arena. And I won't reveal who you are. Just try not to stand in my way".
Reis lifted his eyes slowly, looked at him briefly, then turned back to the window. His voice was cold and final.
"No one will stand in anyone's way, because the path will end quickly".
No one spoke after that.
Only the deep roar of the metal engine lingered within the train, reverberating through its core, shaking the walls as though the very heart of the world were bracing itself for sacrifice.
On the horizon, the towers of the capital began to rise.
Vast metallic spires reached toward the clouds, shimmering beneath the pale light.
It was the city destined to consume a hundred souls before casting the survivors back into the world anew.