Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine. Period.
Story: The story is set in the days following the creation of Terminal City. TC has been getting to its shaky feet for about half a year, and the city is finally starting to function when Max is recaptured by Manticore...
Author's Note: This is my first ever fic, so please don't be too hard on me! But don't be afraid to let me know what you think. Also, if I happened to use any taken designations, please let me know. I'd appreciate it.

---This is an edited chapter! Thanks foryour advice! I took it, as you can see. I agree that it makes it a ton easier to read...

A young woman was running through the woods, running without a thought. She was desperate, and all she knew was that she had to escape.

Escape? From what?

She had to get away before they turned her, before she could… could what? Lord, but her mind was so foggy. Fear and adrenaline clouded her thoughts to the point where she could no longer think, but only focus on reaching safety.

And where exactly is safety?

Anywhere but where she was. That was where she would find safety. Her heightened senses alerted her that someone was running after her. Actually, there were several people chasing her. She didn't bother to consider that maybe they were running with her, because she knew she was alone in this. She was so utterly alone that it left no doubts that any person nearby for miles was considered the enemy.

Has it always been like this?

That was a quiet voice inside, one that she didn't have the time to consider.

Escape. I have to escape. I have to find safety!

Her heart was beating nearly out of her chest, she was breathing so hard and running with such desperation. But no time to consider stopping, especially not now that she could faintly see a chain-link fence topped with barbed wire far off. There it was! The exit point! She was so close! But the people following her were gaining quickly, and pretty soon she saw gruff faces painted in camouflage surrounding her. The leader of the pack caught up to her just as she was about to reach the fence. So close!

Have to make it over! she thought with desperation.

She was panicking when she saw the man pull out a gun, and the rest tasers. The big man took aim at her, and she leapt up, reaching for the top of the fence that she knew would lead her to freedom. Just as she was about to pull up her legs to make it over the fence completely, a tranquilizing bullet hit the back of her neck, and she felt woozy, plummeting to the ground limply, the last shred of her hopes crushed.

NOOOOO!

X5-452 woke up in a sweat. These nightmares seemed to come every single night, and they disrupted her sleep in a very disturbing way. Emotions weren't widely discussed at Manticore, but she didn't think she was scared of them, just… uneasy. They worried her, as much as anything should worry a soldier. That was what she was. She was a cold-blooded, genetically designed killing machine, enhanced with special abilities normal people could never dream of having. She was tall and slender with a model's figure and all the right curves. Long dark hair spilled just past her chest, and she looked around her with large, liquid eyes the color of dark chocolate. In a word, she was stunning. She was breathtaking. That was how she was made, genetically altered to be physically perfect in every way, just like all the other soldiers in the X5 series. But looks didn't matter to her right now.

452 was sitting in gray military-issue pajamas, in a gray military-issue bed pad (which was not very comfortable), in a gray military-issue cell. Such was life at Manticore: dull, gray, and meant to keep one-track minds on duty. All of the cells were exactly the same, and all of the people occupying them were expected to behave in exactly the same way.

She attempted to distract her mind from the disturbing… feelings… left behind from the nightmare with thoughts of her morning's busy schedule. 452 dressed quickly in her uniform with gray sweats on underneath and prepared for roll call and the morning running exercises. Once she was outside with the others, she found her place in line with the rest of the X5s and waited for the training officers, standing silent and stone-still. The officers arrived and started roll call in a very formal manner.

"482!"

"Sir!"

"537!"

"Sir!" and so on.

"452!"

"Sir!" she answered promptly, saluting the officers with a fierce, stony expression.

The officer stopped in front of her, and said a little quieter, "452, I expect improvement from yesterday. I can't allow you to continue at the rate you are going. In order to catch up on your lost training, you will lead the pack in the running exercises, and if you let anyone pass you, you will receive extra tomorrow, in addition to your extra tactics and hand-to-hand, do I make myself clear?"

Crystal, she thought with a nasty taste in her mouth, but she stared straight ahead and replied, "Yes, Sir!"

"Good. Okay, X5s, today you will be doing extreme suicides. They will go as follows: 5 miles, 10 miles, 15 miles, and finally 20 miles. Got it? 5, 10, 15, 20. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir!" came the unison reply.

"Alright. You will all try to be first to the finish, and you will be led by 452. You are encouraged to pass her at any time. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir!"

"Excellent. Now, get to your places!" Everyone complied, and 452 knew this wasn't going to be easy.

At lunch break, 452 sat at a table with a few other X5s she didn't really know. They were more relaxed now that they weren't with the officers, and so they tried to make conversation. "452, nice try this morning. You did well, until that other group started gaining on you. I thought you might not get assigned extra training, because it turned out that only three got past you out of twenty-four, but I guess Sarge wasn't having a good day."

Is he trying to cheer me up? she thought incredulously. She decided he needed to work on that particular skill. She kept eating quickly, not because the food was good, but because she knew that she would need the extra energy tomorrow as well as tonight.

The other one tried now. "You were faster than you were yesterday, at least." Tch, yeah, til I busted a lung, she thought bitterly. Bitterness was supposed to be foreign here, and yet she was licking her wounded ego. It felt distant, but strangely… comfortable, right… It stirred something inside of her for a fraction of a second, like a spark from another life. Was there ever a life outside of Manticore? But then, like a candle blown out, it was gone, though that fleeting thought still remained. It was new and troublesome, it opened many scary possibilities, and that must have registered on her face, because the other X5s stared at her.

"452? You OK?" She shook her head quickly as if to rid her head of all treasonous thoughts.

"Huh? Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. I think I'll head back to my cell now. See you in tactics." With that, she left the table and deposited her tray on the cleaning belt, quickly made for her cell, and hoped it would be empty so she could clear her head.

When 452 reached her cell, she was disappointed to find that her cellmate, X5-493, had returned after lunch and was reading a book on military tactics. She suppressed a sigh. "Studying for class?"

"Yep. I'd rather not get extra homework like some others have been," he said casually without looking up from his book. 493 was not really trying to get a dig on her, since he didn't know that she had probably gotten the most extra work out of anyone, but it stung nonetheless to hear those words.

She managed to laugh weakly. "Ha, yeah, I guess that's a good idea." With anyone else, or almost anyone, she would have been offended and would have had to strain to keep anger out of her voice, but this X5 was different, somehow. She felt a sort of kinship with him that she couldn't explain, perhaps because he was one of the few other X5s who were behind on years of missed training.

They had all been told that they had been out on secret missions for Manticore, and they were of the utmost importance. Each had finished their own separate mission and had returned, but the missions had been long and strenuous, and so they had required years to accomplish. Exactly what they had accomplished, neither 452, 493, or any of the others knew, since it was of the highest level of security, only entrusted to one person, the top dog of the whole facility. He (or she; 452 didn't know, since his/her identity had always been kept a top secret) hadn't felt it was necessary to compromise the work their long years had taken to gain, and 452 understood that completely. If it had taken her years to do, a memory swipe, and time lost in training, resulting in the major butt-kicking she was taking now, she certainly did not want to see the fruits of her labor unravel helplessly before her.

And so she and 493 had a sort of mutual understanding, and she genuinely liked the man. If it were at all possible for an X5 to have a family, she felt deep inside of her that 493 would have been her older brother. While he was certainly very attractive, as all X5s are supposed to be, the thought of him as a possible breeding partner set her skin crawling. That was just… wrong.

She didn't know how to explain it, but that was normal. At Manticore, many things were unexplained, and they were just fine without any explanations. Those would only complicate things and make it considerably harder to function as a soldier, much less as a unit, as was the traditional workings of the place in general. They were expected to do everything together, as one, as a unit that could work and fight together and help each other be their best for Manticore. Questioning that doctrine only led to confusion and self-doubt. But wasn't that what 452 had gone to her cell to do in the first place? Ugh, what was I thinking? She upbraided herself for her treasonous thoughts and decided instead to study with 493.