"Her first test was a success, would you not agree?" The Madame questioned smugly with one eyebrow quirked at the powerful man before her. An image of the Black Dahlia standing fiercely behind Peeta was frozen on the screen for the pair to view with judgemental eyes and assess the outcome of their experiment.

President Snow hummed, leaning forward to rest his clasped hands on the desk as he replied, "I did not go through the troubles of erasing all parts of her former self just to have her assume the role of a common peacekeeper."

"I assure you, President Snow, she will not fail you." The Madame stated assertively, confident that her methods would yield impressive results. It wasn't that she had faith in the Black Dahlia herself, moreso that she trusted her own ability to create unstoppable weapons. There was no way her project would be deemed unsuccessful. "Put her in the field."

A silence settled among the two as the President pondered over the Madame's demand. The Black Dahlia had endured weeks of extensive training in various types of weaponry and combat, including improvements to her stealth and speed. She now had the battle skills to back up her fighting spirit and the Madame had ensured she would only answer to them. There was no opponent who could match her prowess now, no task she could not complete efficiently. But Snow had a mission up his sleeve that would truly test her limits.

"There is a Capitol citizen who I've been keeping a close eye on." Snow confessed to the woman who smirked in victory. "She sympathises with these... radicals." The word was practically spat from his mouth as he shook his head in aggravation. "She's been selling stolen goods to help fund their struggle. I want her dealt with."

The devious Madame nodded her understanding, struggling to contain the smug sneer on her face as a picture of the target flashed up on the screen. "The Black Dahlia will ensure an example is made of this traitor." She declared assertively, already revelling in the destruction her soldier would wreak on their enemies. "This project will be a success."

"For your sake, it had better be." Snow muttered lowly with a threatening edge to his voice. "I've put a lot of trust in you, Madame. I took a chance on your methods when no one else would and now I expect to see results."

"Yes, President Snow." The Madame bowed her head and dismissed herself from the room with long strides, ready to unleash the Black Dahlia on her first mission.

President Snow watched the woman leave with an impassive expression before flitting his eyes over to the face of the traitor. She once was a loyal citizen, a devoted servant to the Capitol and the Games. It was disappointing that one of his own had turned her back on everything she knew, but even the most faithful can lose their way. No one is exempt from the consequences of their treachery. So the traitor must die.

•------•°•✿•°•------•

The Black Dahlia crouched on the edge of a rooftop just across from the apartment building of her target. Her white suit stood out against the inky black sky, silhouetting her like an angel of death in the night. But her dark eyes were burning like the coals of District Twelve, a pair of glowing embers peeking above the restraints of her muzzle. This was her first taste of freedom but she couldn't take the time to savour it.

The Madame had warned her of what would happen if she were to fail this mission. They were watching her every move, waiting for her to make a mistake, ready to punish her for her faults. She had a task to do and failure was not an option. There would be time to enjoy her freedom when she was dead.

Balancing on her toes, she gracefully leaped from the roof and crossed the gap between the two buildings in one jump. She caught herself on the other side, feet braced against the brick wall as her fingers gripped tightly to the ledge. Then with surprising speed, she began to scale down the side of the building like a scurrying spider. She never knew why she seemed to excel at climbing without any prior knowledge. Almost like a skill she'd learned in a past life or a memory from a girl she didn't know anymore. So familiar in her mind yet too far away to understand.

As she dropped down onto the window sill, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the apartment. A voice in the back of her head shouted desperately for her to recognise the surroundings, to recall where she knew it from. But no matter how much she strained to remember, there was something blocking her way.

"What are you waiting for?" The irritated voice of the Madame growled through her earpiece, snapping her back into reality. What had she been waiting for? She couldn't remember now. "Get on with the mission."

Shaking her head of any confused thoughts, the Black Dahlia slipped through the open window and landed nimbly on the pristine floors. Unlike the rest of the Capitol, this apartment was simple and minimalist, devoid of the vibrant colours she'd come to expect from the citizens. It was oddly calming, like coming back home.

She travelled deeper into the living space, hunched in anticipation of an attack and fingers hovering over her subcompact pistol. Various artefacts, trinkets and decorative objects were scattered throughout the apartment miscellaneously. The Black Dahlia could only assume these were the stolen items being sold off to fund the enemy. Her eyes narrowed at the sight, disgusted by the betrayal from one of their own.

A sudden noise from behind her had the Black Dahlia whipping round with her gun raised and ready to shoot. There was nothing there. Nothing but a pair of cut-crystal whiskey glasses placed innocently on the kitchen island. That struck a chord somewhere inside of her. Why did she feel like she should know the significance of that? What is so special about those glasses? Nothing... Nothing, it has to be nothing, she tried to convince herself. But why did the faint familiar scent of lavender and roses seem to flood her senses when there were no flowers in sight?

Edging closer in suspicion, gun still pointed in the direction she heard the noise come from, her mind whirled in turmoil. It felt like someone was poking and prodding around in her brain, searching for answers she was sure she didn't know. Faraway dreams were teasing her with voices she couldn't recognise, taunting her with the echoes of moments lost long ago.

Just when her grip on the gun began to loosen as the thoughts overwhelmed her head, a war cry rang out through the otherwise silent apartment and a figure darted out from the shadows. Too wrapped up in her own mind, the Black Dahlia had been too slow to react and the attacker managed to tackle her to the ground. The gun skidded across the floor out of reach as her assailant pinned her body to the ground.

"Dahlia." The woman gasped out upon locking stares with those dark murderous eyes she knew so well. She seemed relieved to see her, which the Black Dahlia couldn't understand. Was she supposed to know a stylist from the Hunger Games? "It's me... Juno." The name did ring a bell for the Black Dahlia, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Juno hadn't seemed to notice the confusion in her eyes, relaxing her grasp on her old tribute's wrists. "Thank goodness it's you, Petal. When I found out Snow was sending someone after me, I panicked. I was getting ready to run and-- Wait, why are you here?"

The Black Dahlia tilted her head up at the trusting woman who clearly didn't pay much attention to Capitol broadcasts. As clearly as she could under the uncomfortable mask clamped on her jaw, she replied venomously, "I'm here to kill the traitor."

Juno's eyes only just managed to widen in realisation before the Black Dahlia jabbed her sharply in the stomach. Shocked and winded, the former stylist rolled off the girl's body as the Black Dahlia hopped to her feet. She sprinted over to her abandoned gun, scooping it up in mere seconds. She didn't hesitate to pull the trigger, bullets pinging off the wall as Juno scrambled out of the room for safety. As if that would stop the Black Dahlia from completing her mission.

She stomped through the corridors of the apartment in pursuit of her target, following the sounds of frantic scuffling in an otherwise peaceful place. It led her to a plain bedroom, much larger and nicer than the prison cell she had grown accustomed to. The bed looked comfortable but too big for just her. A perfect size to share with someone else. Though she had no one to share it with. She had always been fully devoted to the Capitol... Wasn't she?

Grunting in frustration at the fact that she had let her frazzled thoughts cloud her mind again, she stormed into the room with a determination to finish this assignment and put all the disruption behind her. There didn't appear to be any other sign of life in the room with her, but the Black Dahlia knew looks could be deceiving. Sensing movement lurking behind her, she feigned obliviousness to force her prey to move closer. Once Juno was within striking distance, the Black Dahlia spun around to face her.

"Boo." She muttered coldly as Juno flinched back in fright. But the stylist was more prepared than the Black Dahlia had given her credit for. Juno swiftly swung a silver candlestick in the Black Dahlia's direction and successfully knocked the gun from her hands.

Knowing this would be her only chance to overpower Snow's new weapon, Juno continued to wave the candlestick wildly at the girl she once knew. The Black Dahlia effortlessly dodged each strike, barely shaken by the pathetic ambush attack. Ducking under another poorly aimed swing, she casually unsheathed one of the infamous black blades strapped to her back and halted Juno's attack in mid-air.

"Dahlia," Juno gasped out breathlessly, horrified by the sight of the girl's cold lifeless eyes staring back at her. She never expected to be on the receiving end of her friend's glare. And she definitely never expected to be on the sharper side of Dahlia's sword. But her friend was no longer the person behind those eyes. The Black Dahlia was striking to kill, and she would not miss. "Please, stop this. It's me."

The Black Dahlia didn't react to Juno's pleading, using their connected weapons to force the woman away. As Juno stumbled backwards and grappled the wall to regain her balance, the Black Dahlia stared like a predator stalking its prey. With a hollow expression and detached tone of voice, she callously remarked, "Who are you?"

Juno's face visibly fell at the question, hurt that someone she once considered a friend would dismiss her so cruelly. Until she noticed the genuine vacancy behind the girl's eyes. The Black Dahlia had no recollection of who Juno was to her. All she knew was that she had to kill her.

"What have they done to you?" Juno whispered bitterly to herself, staring in disgust at the empty shell of a once passionate Victor. She couldn't help the tears that sprung to her eyes, knowing how devastated Alaric would be if he saw what the Capitol had turned his daughter into.

"What was necessary." Dahlia replied impassively, twirling her sword in her hand as she advanced on her target. With each step closer, she robotically repeated the lies she had been fed, "I am the footsoldier of a great empire. Through my missions, I will keep the peace. I am the Black Dahlia."

Juno shook her head profusely, muffled sobs escaping through her lips as she muttered, "No, you're not." The Black Dahlia ignored Juno's blubbering response, raising her blade up high before bringing it down towards the woman with a ferocious grunt. Juno's candlestick met the sword halfway, clashing harshly with a metallic clang. "Your name is Dahlia Blossom--"

"No." The Black Dahlia hissed out, briefly breaking her focus which allowed Juno to shove her back.

Juno didn't pursue the girl, staying on the defensive as she continued, "You were the Victor of the 66th Hunger games--"

"Lies!" The Black Dahlia roared, charging furiously at the woman with powerful strikes that she struggled to block.

Despite her poor combat skills and improvised weapon, Juno did her best to halt each potentially fatal blow the Black Dahlia sent her way. There was no way she would be able to win this battle through brute force alone. Her only hope was to remind the Black Dahlia of who she truly was, not who she was manipulated to be.

"You are the daughter of Joule Blossom--"

The Black Dahlia swiped uncontrollably at the woman who refused to fight back.

"-- and Alaric Silvers--"

The Black Dahlia cried out as she unleashed relentless attacks.

"-- sister of Lavender and Rosie--"

"Stop it!" The Black Dahlia yelled madly, mind fracturing under the doubt and uncertainty swarming her thoughts. She didn't know what to believe anymore and she was frustrated by all the confusion. Who was telling the truth? Angered that she didn't know the answer, she lashed out with such force that Juno's candlestick was knocked from her hands and sent flying across the room.

The Black Dahlia stood with her sword seized so tightly her knuckles had turned white, her chest heaving with panicked breaths under the mask. She should do what she came here to do. She should kill the traitor without remorse. Yet she couldn't bring herself to do it. Something didn't feel right.

Juno could see the internal war waging in her head, a dazed and disorientated look filling her once calculating eyes. Those conflicted thoughts gave the woman a sense of hope that the Dahlia she knew was still in there. She just needed to get her back.

"Finnick's little flower." Juno murmured carefully, watching as the Black Dahlia's anger seemed to crumble away at the mere mention of the boy's name.

"W-- What?" She nearly gasped out, grip loosening ever so slightly on the handle of her sword.

"That's what Finnick used to call you." Juno explained gently as the girl's features softened and her defences were pulled down. "His little flower."

"Finnick." The Black Dahlia whispered mournfully, fighting hard to remember why her heart instinctively speeds up at his name. She knew that he was important to her, she could feel it. But she didn't know why. A dull pain pierced her skull as she tried to recall a memory, anything to explain why she suddenly yearned for a man she couldn't remember. Her surroundings became blurred and unfocused as she clutched her head in aggravation.

"I can help you remember, Petal." Juno declared tenderly, inching closer to comfort the overwhelmed girl. When she didn't reject Juno's approach, the stylist-turned-rebel smiled in relief at the breakthrough they'd made. She cupped the Victor's cheek delicately as a lone tear escaped her eye to betray her true vulnerability. "Please let me help."

Reluctantly, the Black Dahlia found herself nodding in agreement as Juno beamed with pride. Convinced that she could fix everything, the Capitol woman reached up to unclip something from her sleek black hair. But she failed to notice the way the Black Dahlia's body had tensed.

The earpiece crackled to life and the dreaded voice of the Madame hissed in her ear, "Finish it."

With that reminder of her mission, the Black Dahlia's eyes suddenly darkened with rage and her hold on the sword tightened with purpose. Without a moment of hesitation, she automatically thrust the blade forward until the black steel protruded from her target's back. Only then did she realise what Juno had retrieved from her hair. A black dahlia pin which seemed to unlock her floodgate of memories.

Now she remembered why this place seemed so familiar... It was her apartment. Her home away from home. And now it would be the site of a heartless assassination. The resting place of an old friend slaughtered by the killer she helped to create.