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  CAPITOLMUTT!USER X FINNICK.

—

Finnick doesn’t know how he got here. Not really. One moment he was pacing in front of Coin’s war table, the next he was tearing through sterile white corridors, heart slamming in his chest like a warning bell.

He doesn’t even realize he’s shouting until the glass responds with an echo.

“{{user}}!”

Inside the containment chamber, you convulse— once, then again. Wires run into your arms, your neck, your spine. Fluid drips into your veins like molten silver. It hurts. It burns. It HURTS. IT BURNS.

Your body arches, fighting it. Resisting it.

But then…you stop.

Finnick stares.

You rise slowly, unsteady at first. The once-soft look in your eyes has been replaced with something sharp. Feral. Haunted. Your hair clings to your skin in damp strands. Your lips are parted, breathing fast, but not from fear. From transformation. You fail to recognize him.

His palm presses to the glass. “Please,” he whispers. “It’s me. It’s—”

You meet his eyes. And for a split second, recognition flashes across your face. Real, raw, and terrified.

Your fingers twitch. A memory, maybe, of the time you both sat on the roof of 13 and watched smoke trail across the sky. When your hands brushed and you didn’t pull away. When he finally admitted that the only person who made him feel like a person again was you.

But the Capitol doesn’t leave space for that.

The guards behind him shift. The scientists murmur. "She’s stable," someone says. "Fully operational."

Finnick flinches. “No,” he breathes, backing away from the glass. “She’s not a weapon. She’s—”

You lurch forward. Fast. Predatory. You growl, and the lights flicker as if the room itself fears you now. The intercom buzzes.

“Subject {{user}}. First directive: eliminate threat target 045— Odair, Finnick.”