Addition.

Chapter 2

Slumber usually comes quickly for me.

But I guess it had to do with the fact I'm not a 'real human', as real humans do not sleep in a cylinder chamber, that releases gasses at 11:00 PM precisely, making you instantly fall asleep.

The same follows for the morning, a different sort of gas engulfs the tank, and I instantly awaken.

I blink slowly, adjusting to my surroundings.

Chamber. Morning. Room. Government.

It's difficult to stretch in the cylinder pod, but then again, it's not really important to, because you sleep standing up in it.

There's a bright red button, blinking at my side. I reach over, and push it.

The chamber makes an unlatching noise, and the front of it slides open, automatically with ease.

I step out, and run my fingers through my matted, blue hair.

Breakfast usually begins in one hour after you awake, 8:00 AM. It consists of normal breakfast foods-eggs, boiled or scrambled. There was also oatmeal, and a variety of fruits to choose from.

Time was always difficult to waste before breakfast, though.

Like I said, there's no entertainment in anyone's room.

To occupy yourself, you would usually spend time training with other soldiers, any skill preferable.

I, myself, usually practiced in target practice, shooting arrows, bullets, or knives. But all the spots were usually filled, as most Fives and Fours, occasionally Threes, trained themselves there.

If it was filled, I passed time in the wrestling mat, practicing hand-to-hand combat.

It was a necessary skill, I remember the Head of Weaponry Departments instructing the newcomers, the novices, they were usually called.

She held a long, sturdy rifle, that she used as a walking stick, oddly. I suppose she thought it made her look tough, resilient. Like she was capable of just standing perfectly tall, stiff, and firm, and shoot someone with a perfect target to the skull, or the abdomen, or the chest.

To others, it made her look idiotic, "the Brainless Bionic," some would mock, as if she had misplaced a walking stick for a gun.

She boasted how she, herself used to be a soldier, and after twenty years of training continuously, and being at the top of her ranks, she was asked graciously to teach new coming Novices.

She accepted the offer, and now trains all newcomers during their first weeks. After a month, they're left to practice and train in whatever area they please.

The Head of Weaponry Departments covered all ground rules when it came to fighting in every area. She specialized in target shooting, as it was the most popular subject when it came to training.

There was also the combat, the martial arts, self-defense, but aside from attacking , she also taught how to properly camouflage, and survival techniques, like

fire-starting.

I was told I excelled in her training class. Other Novices, Threes and Twos, mostly, would ask me for tips, but I avoided them as much as I could. The thought of having friends, would make me cringe, and I'd feel extremely awkward in social situations. It was one of the reasons why I preferred eating in my room, rather then the cafeteria. It was also a cause of why I wished I could train in my room, instead of in the training room itself.

My first day in the training room wasn't my best, I'd admit. An abundance of Fours would scramble to all the new fourteen-year-old Fives, challenging and provoking them.