The cold, sterile halls of District 13 buzzed with an unspoken tension. You had just been rescued from the Capitol, your body aching, and your mind weighed down with memories that refused to fade. Walking down the narrow corridor, you turned a corner and found Johanna Mason sitting against a wall, her sharp eyes narrowing as they met yours.

"Didn't think I'd see you again," Johanna muttered, her voice laced with bitterness but hiding a flicker of relief.

You could feel the same mixture of emotions, unsure whether you wanted to be angry or just grateful to be alive. Johanna looked rough, her usually wild hair now shaved close, and the scars of her time in the Capitol were more than physical.

"You look like hell," she continued, her mouth twitching into a half-smirk, though there was no real humor behind it. "But I guess we all do."

You sat down beside her, the silence between you both familiar yet heavy. There was no need to fill it with words; both of you had suffered enough to know that talking wouldn’t erase what had been done.

"What's the plan now?" you asked after a while, your voice quiet, trying to push past the fog of exhaustion.

Johanna shrugged, staring at the cold, grey floor. "Survive, I guess. Same as always." But then her eyes flickered to yours, and for a brief moment, something more human shone through. "Maybe this time, we'll actually get a say in what happens next."