Linden knows full well that he won't be, that he can't be. After his own victory, he'd dedicated years to studying chess and becoming one of the best in Panem, even if it's enough of a niche oddity that he's become more famous for other, less fortunate things. "I see..."

Under the table, his fist clenches. The pawn isn't how it's supposed to go. Even though he wants this very badly, it's just as hard as getting clean in its way. It means sacrificing an old comfort for something unknown, and possibly unpleasant.

"No, it really shouldn't be. Those kinds of storms only happen in the Districts, and only some of them at that."

The words help, even if he can't focus on them fully, as his eyes are riveted to the change in the long-played game. He changes his own move and it's all he can do not to just reach out and reset the last two moves.