Sherlock might notice Zelos' eyes glancing away when he mentions the idea of a larger game. He knows for a fact there is, discovered it on his first day here, as a matter of fact, but he keeps it to himself. If the Arena is being televised, they could be on tv at this moment and it ranks pretty high on the list of 'bad ideas' to give those pompous Capitol viewers a taste of the cold truth.

People like to cling to their safe, sheltered view of the world, after all.

"You tell me how insignificant and small scale it is when you're bleeding out after someone attacks you for food or supplies," he answers. The start of the Arena at the Cornucopia had been unreal. Not something he was keen to remember, but hard to forget people killing each other for a pouch of medicine or a weapon. "You're lucky you're meeting me like this, and not earlier."

It's as much a bluff as what he thinks might actually happen should he get desperate enough. He's been lucky so far, but he knew as well as anyone the fickle ways of an audience's favour.