*** Hola, chicas! Qué tal? Well, here's the first chapter of my Hunger games fanfiction. Listen, as of characters from the novels, you'll have to look out for them, because this is meant to accent the way the people of the districts live, it doesn't focus on Queen Katniss. Te quiero!***

CHAPTER ONE.

Loading Message - Loading Message - Loading Message - Loading Message - Loading Message

Your mission is top secret and any disclosure of information will result in the termination of yourself and team-members. Your task is to infiltrate the inner regions of the country of Panem, which lies across the Atlantic Ocean. There you will be expected to blend in and observe the people of this country, as well as obtaining any information that may aid the Republic of Europa. You are alone during this mission.

This message will terminate in one minute.

END OF TRANSMISSION - END OF TRANSMISSION - END OF TRANSMISSION - END OF TRANSMIS

Imogen looked up from the mission detail. Flexing her fingers, she watched them glow with poisonous energy that would kill any normal person. She stretched her arms and legs, clad in a skin-tight suit that would cut seconds from her personal best.

Berlin's Training Academy was the top education facility in the whole of the Republic. She looked out of her dorm window, and noticed grey clouds forming on the horizon. With a sigh, she picked up the message and put it in the bin, smothering it with a pillow. She ignored the strange look she received from her dorm-partner, Eliza, and left the room swiftly, pulling on her favourite jacket. A few steps later, she heard a bang and a shout form the girl she'd left behind. Smoke poured into the corridor after Eliza.

"Imogen!" she shouted. "I told you to stop putting your missions in the bin!"

Imogen ignored her. She was required at the track, and if she was late the Matron would kill her. Not literally, because she was the best warrior in her region. Her hands glowed menacingly if someone was in her way. One touch and they'd burn painfully for hours.

Flicking her blonde plait over her shoulders, she jogged the length of the corridors in anticipation of her race. Her opponent was the most difficult of them all: Herself.

The Berlin Training Academy sat in the middle of the city, overlooking the three rings that surrounded it. In the middle was the Academy, and accompanying it were various council buildings, used to control the Region of Germany. The first ring was for the more wealthy citizens of Berlin; the ones who owned the majority of the region. Many had holiday homes in places like the Ruhr, once known for industrial power and immeasurable source of coal. However, that had run out of wealth years ago, and had been transformed into the ideal holiday destination.

The second ring was a place of trade and the residential area for any who could afford it. Imogen had lived in the second ring, with her parents. Before her compatibility results arrived, and she was brought to the Academy.

The third ring was more of a slum than a ring. Containing many buildings of what was known as "Old Berlin", the place was outdated and a hub for organised crime. She'd been sent there to placate the masses during one of their many riots. Not many were serious; crops and bad harvests, taxes, wages, rights. Imogen snorted; imagine having rights. She didn't have rights, as of her thirteenth birthday she'd belonged to the state. And it was here that she'd remained for five years.

She exited the building into the rain. The cool water tapped her closed eyelids, and she smiled with a sudden sense of calm.

"What are you standing there for?" the familiar, gruff voice of the sports manager caught up with her. "Get over here!"

Imogen found her feet took her to the starting line, and only really began to pay attention when the gun went off. Her powerful leg muscles pushed her forward towards the white tape that glowed against the dismal landscape. A few seconds later, and she was skidding to a halt after rushing through the ribbon. Her shoes slipped, and she felt head over heels, grazing her hands and knees.

She finished up on the grass that circled the track, near the sandpit. Her hands had burnt a large black circle in the ground, and were throbbing with energy. Trying not to concentrate on the pain, she stood up shakily, scarlet blood running down her left leg. So she'd fallen harder on that side? Ah yes, a graze on her left elbow proved it.

"Are you alright?" the woman asked her.

A safe distance away, of course. She didn't really care, she only wanted Berlin to remain at the top of the Republic, and that meant keeping the region's Champion safe.

"I'm fine," Imogen breathed deeply, and felt the energy fade from her palms. "I need to go to the bunker."

The bunker had been built in case of a Nuclear War. The Academy's governors soon realised as well as hiding people from radiation outside, they could hide radiation inside and prevent the damage of the academy's students. Imogen had spent the majority of her time training in the bunker. She even had a bed in there.

She crossed the grass, some of it still hissing with the heat of her radiation, despite the rain and cool breeze. Her attention was drawn to a girl with long black hair, tied back in two plaits that reached her waist. The girl wore a band around her upper arm – a foreigner.

The band was two colours, a line of white and then scarlet beneath. What region was that…? Poland? The girl was another Valkyrja – the protectors of the Republic – and for some reason wasn't in her own region. Who was she? Imogen scowled as she knew she'd never know the answer to that question without asking a senior official, and that would only result in punishment. Classified knowledge was taboo, and that girl was sure to be classified.

With that thought buzzing around her mind, she grit her teeth and entered the bunker.

***Okay, it'll start slowly, but bear with these small chapters, they're more of an introduction into what Europe's doing at the time of Panem. It'll get better! I hope…***