Morning inside the Capital arrived without sunrise.
There was no true dawn here, no slow spread of natural light across the horizon, no warmth creeping through clouds from a real sun. Instead, the artificial sky beyond the transparent upper sections shifted gradually from deep night into a carefully designed pale morning, the false stars fading one by one while soft golden light spread across the inner atmosphere of the floating city. Even that transition had clearly been engineered for beauty, because by the ti the light reached the residential do where the chosen participants were staying, the entire place already felt brighter, cleaner, and strangely calm.
Tansy woke first.
For a few seconds she simply stared upward at the ceiling, as if reminding herself where she was. The room still felt too comfortable to belong to reality. The bed was soft, the air held perfect temperature, and the silence inside the Capital had a strange quality to it—controlled, almost expensive.
Beside her, Rose was still asleep, curled slightly beneath the blanket.
Tansy reached over and nudged her gently.
Rose opened her eyes slowly, then sat up almost imdiately when mory returned.
Neither of them needed words.
Both girls got out of bed and moved toward the bathing area with unusual excitent. Even though they had already bathed the previous night, the luxury of warm water available whenever they wanted still felt impossible compared to life in Sector 11, where even basic comfort often required planning.
The water flowed smoothly from polished fixtures, steaming lightly as they washed again, laughing quietly in a way they had not done much since arriving in the Capital. For a short mont, the fear hanging over everything beca lighter.
When they finished, fresh clothing waited exactly where servants had placed it earlier.
As instructed, Tansy wore blue.
The dress fitted closely without being heavy, soft fabric layered carefully around her fra while still allowing easy movent. The color gave her a cleaner elegance than anything she had ever worn before, and even she paused while looking at herself.
Rose wore red.
Her outfit was brighter, fuller, and impossible to ignore, the layered fabric giving her the appearance of a blooming flower once again, though this version was lighter than the previous night’s dress and designed more for presentation than display.
When they finally stepped outside together, still adjusting sleeves and hair, both stopped imdiately.
Tyler had already left his room.
Earlier that morning he had been instructed to wear formal clothing as well. Inside his room, a long row of blazers in different colors had been arranged neatly on hangers—blue, black, silver, dark red, even gold. The selection was clearly intentional, every choice prepared to shape appearance into spectacle.
Tyler had looked over all of them quietly.
Then his hand stopped at white.
Now he stood near the corridor window wearing it.
The suit fit him with unnatural precision, the white blazer cut sharply across his shoulders as though tailored specifically for soone who never hesitated before entering dangerous places. Beneath it, a dark shirt deepened the contrast, making the white fabric appear even brighter under the morning lights. The trousers followed clean lines without excess, and the polished shoes completed the look without drawing attention away from the overall sharpness of the outfit.
Yet what made it striking was not the suit itself.
It was the way Tyler wore it.
There was no stiffness, no awkwardness, no visible effort. He stood as though such clothing belonged naturally to him, carrying himself with careless confidence that transford elegance into sothing stronger—sothing bold enough to feel almost provocative.
He looked like soone who had already decided that whatever room he entered belonged to him.
Tansy’s eyes widened.
Rose forgot to speak for several seconds.
Under the bright Capital lights, the white suit made Tyler look far more dangerous than armor would have.
Then Tyler noticed them.
A small smile appeared on his face.
That smile only made both girls stare harder.
Before either could speak, another door opened nearby.
Victor stepped out.
His assigned clothing was completely different—green from top to bottom, including a fitted suit layered beneath a long green coat and an oddly styled tall hat that looked almost theatrical. The Capital had apparently decided to present him with exaggerated elegance, though the result still looked strange against his natural discomfort.
But Victor barely noticed his own clothes.
The mont he saw Rose in red, he froze.
Then visibly blushed.
Rose noticed imdiately and lifted her chin slightly, pretending not to care even though the reaction clearly pleased her.
A mont later Kennedy erged as well.
Unlike the others, he wore a black blazer suit, clean and simple, with very little decorative design. It suited him naturally, making him look older and more composed than usual, though his eyes still carried obvious nervousness.
He glanced once at the others, then looked away quickly as if uncertain whether to comnt.
Soon a servant arrived and instructed all five to proceed.
They stepped together onto a floating platform waiting near the corridor edge.
The platform descended smoothly through the open vertical shaft connecting several participant floors.
As they moved downward, they noticed other floating platforms gliding nearby from different levels.
Participants from other sectors were descending at the sa ti.
So stood quietly.
So looked openly nervous.
So stared at others with obvious caution.
By the ti the platforms reached the lower level, all paths converged toward one destination.
The dining hall.
The space inside was enormous.
The ceiling rose high enough to resemble a ceremonial chamber more than a place for eating, while long vertical lights cast bright reflections across polished floors. At the center stood a giant circular dining table so wide that it occupied most of the hall.
All seventy-five chosen participants from all fifteen sectors were already seated or taking seats around it.
Five from each sector.
Tyler and the others were guided toward the section assigned to Sector 11, positioned along the left side of the great circle.
As Tyler sat down, he quietly observed the room.
So participants were already studying each other carefully, trying to judge threats before the Gas had even begun. Others ignored everyone entirely and focused only on the food placed before them, because many had probably never seen such abundance in one place.
The dishes spread across the table were excessive—at, fruits, breads, desserts, drinks, and foods that Tansy and others did not even recognize.
Then movent appeared above the table.
Several drones descended silently.
They hovered near the center and imdiately projected a giant holographic image above the head position of the circular table.
Conversation died at once.
The projection ford into a massive golden figure seated upon a throne.
A giant man, entirely golden in appearance, his image built larger than life so that everyone present had to tilt their heads slightly upward to look at him.
The First Citizen.
At once, every participant stood.
They had all been instructed beforehand.
The hall filled with one unified voice.
"Long live the First Citizen!"
Even Tyler joined without hesitation.
The golden ruler looked over them with visible satisfaction.
Then he gave a slow approving nod.
"It is your honor," he said, his amplified voice filling the hall smoothly, "to entertain ."
A pause followed.
Then:
"I look forward to seeing your performance."
His golden expression barely changed.
"Let the feast begin."
The projection vanished imdiately.
Only after it disappeared did people begin sitting again.
And only then did the true silence break.
They began to devour the food already.
---
At the sa ti, the feast inside the Capital was not rely a al—it had already beco a broadcast.
Across the Capital, giant television walls, personal holographic screens, and public projection panels all displayed the sa title in bright letters:
Episode 0: The Feast
It had been prepared like entertainnt long before the chosen participants even entered the dining hall. Multiple cara angles captured every expression, every hesitation, every plate, every movent around the great circular table. The seventy-five selected participants from all fifteen sectors were being shown not as guests, but as the opening spectacle before the real Gas began.
In the Capital, people watched it casually as part of morning amusent.
Families sat in elegant apartnts while eating breakfast. Workers paused near public screens. Children gathered in front of large displays built into shopping halls and transport stations.
Several Capital children laughed openly while pointing at the screen.
"Look at them."
"One plate and they forgot dignity."
"So savage."
"Inferiors really do eat exactly how people say."
Their parents barely corrected them. So even smiled faintly, treating the reactions as ordinary.
To many in the Capital, the chosen participants were already characters before they were competitors.
Far below, in the sectors, the sa broadcast played very differently.
Large screens had been installed in open squares, so people could watch the selected representatives from their sectors.
Crowds gathered under poor lighting and damaged buildings, staring upward at the feast being shown above them.
The food alone was enough to silence many.
Rows of at, fruit, bread, roasted dishes, desserts, and drinks appeared on screen like sothing from another world.
People swallowed unconsciously while watching.
So children stared without blinking.
Others openly salivated.
Because even seeing such food felt unreal.
In Sector 11, among one of the gathered crowds, Tansy and Rose’s parents pushed forward anxiously through the people until they finally found the section showing Sector 11 clearly.
The mont they saw their daughters, both let out visible breaths of relief.
There they were.
Alive.
Tansy was eating quickly, one hand holding a chicken drumstick while trying to keep pace with Rose, who had already reached across the table and stolen food directly from Victor’s plate while he stared helplessly in protest.
Even through the screen, Rose looked completely shaless about it.
Their mother almost laughed from relief.
At the sa table inside the Capital, Tyler remained far quieter than the others.
He ate with calm precision, saying little while observing more than he appeared to consu.
At one point, he picked up a strip of beef jerky.
Then, without drawing attention, the sleeve near his wrist shifted.
Only the fabric covering his hand loosened slightly as silver nanobots spread beneath the surface like liquid tal hidden under cloth. The jerky vanished into that tallic layer for a second before the suit restored itself perfectly, smooth white fabric returning as if nothing had happened.
From the outside, no one noticed.
Tyler continued eating silently, expression unchanged.
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