As I said before, time went by, and Alex Mars learned what had been his future in the past. Fortunately for him, only the first day was the worst-yet, at least. James' scandal just sank into the earth beneath their feet, and no one tried to dig the issue back out-for several and good reasons. First of all, the others somehow knew that Alex Mars was deeply concerned in the issue, and anything related to him was to be avoided with no big logical reason-it had been that way since they had all been in kindergarten. Second, there was the matter with their pack leader James. He had already been very grouchy at that first day-dinner after the event. And no one wanted to get squashed by his fists(though Alex was tempted to let him try).
So, to sum up once more, time went by without much of an event.
Andrew still fumbled with training and read his crazy magazines once he finished The Goner. Alex still never paced according to the Prods' Motto. The general also made good use of him by making him train the others alonside him and was quite content with his life with less work to do with his group of teens who were in baggy military uniforms.
Maybe I'll succeed in becoming the second Prod to survive the military and become another martyr, Alex thought. Things are going smooth enough, he added.
Well, it had been.
And it wasn't going to be 'smooth' forever.

Two months went in a flash. The newbies weren't newbies anymore. Though 2 months are very short compared to the years that most soldiers enjoyed in the army, it still counted. And they had all been quick to learn, those newbies-now, the other, more-experienced soldiers didn't mock them whenever they marched to training spaces. They confronted them like real soldiers.
After those 2 months, ended training. General Fakws was still to be the general of them, but now they were going to be more-well, as I explained, promoted. Their first promotion.

Alex stood like a rock in the center of the room, taking one last glance, looking for any stray things he could be leaving behind. No, nothing-and anyway, he had brought nothing afterall to leave behind. "Well, seems as if someone left a magazine," He said to Andrew who was throwing his stuff into his bag. The other boy sighed and grabbed the Washington Post off the ground. "Guess this promotion is gonna be the first and last for me. I'm the worst here," "Well, having low self-esteem and wasting time on thinking about yourself is a waste of your life. You think of so many lame stuff that's impossible in reality and worry things that have been unprecedented on the face of Earth. So, my point is get the shitty thoughts out of your brain before it's too late," "Exactly. Thanks, you praise and encourage me in the most peculiar ways," Andrew murmured and picked up his stuffed bag.
They left their room for the last time.
After meeting the general on the first floor, they all walked outside(The way we're marching in groups still looks like a lame picnic trip at school, Alex thought). They all walked to one of the numerous buildings inside the base-a taller and more,well, 'dystopian' looking building. It had unnecessary steel panels and swinging glass doors and sleek windows all over the exterior. So a lot of the citizens' taxes were being wasted here, at these kinds of lavish exteriors, he added lamely.
They entered a cool hall with practically no decorations but cement itself, which made up the walls. Not exactly 'luxurious', Alex thought. Still, he just felt like that first day, two months ago.
Metal doors lined the hall after 5 minutes of walking through featureless hallways and windows. Alex and Andrew were put into the third room-but the thing was, there were two two-storied bunks. Plus, there was a big livingroom with a huge plastic table with 4 chairs instead of 2. Alex groaned. "We're not alone," Just as the words left his mouth, the metal door opened and two more peers came in. Andrew had been enough for me, Alex thought glumly. 2 was enough to start a racket-then 4 would be enough to start a huge riot and havoc in the whole biulding, he knew-well, that had been the usual thing that happened at school, at least.
Still, it wasn't James who'd be their roommate, at least. It was Mark Higgins and John Tim(Tim was one of the fellas with both the first name and last name that both seemed like first names, Alex thought). Though they weren't James, yes, they were still one of those guys who couldn't stand a day without knocking each other to the ground and fight each other for the most trivial of things, while being best friends the other time. Well, the more people love to use their body, the more stupid they are-and Alex knew that and shook his head silently as John bounded up one of the neat bunks and shook every dust particle on it off, shaking the metal frame, grinning. His life wasn't going to be very happy from now on with the other two, though the promotion had meant to make him happy. Obviously, it hadn't been a very effective policy.
Not that Mark and John were too ecstatic themselves. Alex Mars still frightened them a bit, though he had taught them in an easy way along with the general during their previous training sessions. He was obviously the no. 1 rival for both them, and also, Fawke's pet(But John and Tim had long ago decided not to call Alex 'Fawkes' pet' in the face, for they knew that would make the other boy pissed out or start ignoring them forever).
Still, objecting about room mates wasn't going to help them with their records on the first day of a brand-new promotion, so no one did.
They all eventually settled in. John occupied the upper bunk of the left bed and naturally, Mark went below him. As they yelled at each other for shaking the bed so much and started to shake the bed even more, Alex got on the upper bunk since Andrew and he had already decided that Andrew was more sleep-intensive, and would be more likely to roll off the bed-and Andrew obviously didn't want to break bones each morning by falling through the air for a few seconds before banging his neck on the ground. Alex just sat on the bed, trying to figure out what to do to the squealing other boys to shut them up for some time while Andrew silently pulled out every one of his books and magazines back onto a desk at the side of the bed in a neat pile. The general ducked his head in at that moment, so the other two stopped their crowing mouths for a moment. Alex's thoughts went to training now. With the promotion, training had become more extensive-it was going to involve fieldwork and labor from now on. Not that he was worried. He was too bored and anxious at the same time about his ears.
He had survived till now. His ears were now patting off the impacts of his desperate but old Muters easily and getting up from bed-his ears' return was quick. He now heard just as he had done as a baby. But worst of all, they seemed to be over-excited-and thus getting over the limit. His nearing actually seemed to even exceed that of when he had been little.
Egad, this was getting out of hand...
He heard every detail of a sound as before-but now, his hearing-range was literally huge. He heard people's footsteps long before they really appeared-his record had been 1 second and 30 seconds before Fawkes appeared to start the training of the day. It was exciting, funny, and terrifying all at the same time. He was only so thankful of Jesus for letting him survive until then. Still, it had costs. He tried to hide his wince and trained himself further to hide emotions even better while the others trained to shoot guns and perfect the martial arts.
His mind was set to surviving-and he was desperate to.
But even his Prodigy efforts would be useless in the near future, my friends...
Alex stepped out of the room that was starting to heat up once more with the others' talk and walked to look for a fountain to drink some water. He didn't know that the generals' office was right where he was going to pass. As usual, his eyes weren't the first to find out. One minute before he passed the door, his ears caught the sounds of the generals discussing.
As you might have already guessed, Alex's local military base didn't have only General Fawkes-it also had a General Richard and a General Forest and 3 others. General Hale was the most superior, and though he was discontent at having to control a tiny base and didn't even bother to hide the discontentment, he still controlled the small base quite well.
It was his voice that Mars heard.
"But Fawkes, don't be too hasty. He is only 17 and just knows the moves," "But General Hale, Alex doesn't have the characteristics of a Prodigy at all. He is just hard working, I belive him," -Silence for a few seconds. An A/C hummed. Then,
"Ok, he can't destroy us by being your second-in-hand right away, Fawkes, even when he might be a Prod. Let's see who he really is-a smart and honest boy-or, a dirty, asshole Prod,"
The door swung open and Alex swiftly pressed himself to the shadows as Hale and Fawkes walked out of the office. Alex left the spot as silently as possible, his brain already up to the brim with thoughts.

1. Hale suspected him. 2. He had acted well-but still, not perfectly. 3. He was now Fawke's sergeant or second-in-hand. 4. He was at gunpoint-the finger was idling near the trigger, but seconds away from getting a steel bullet into his head. 5. Everything was insane.
This was the list he fumbled up with during lunch. He repeated it once more. Unbelievable.
So this was the most risky moment in his life, possibly.
As he had expected, Fawkes grabbed him at the door of the cafeteria as he was trying to exit, and he looked up, clueless(act, act act, Al! Alex thought). The general gave him a smile that wasn't full, then took him to a dark corner.
"Alex Mars, I think you just had your second promotion. Are you considering becoming my army sergeant?" He snickered mentally since the general seemed as if he was proposing for some marriage-and at the same time, wondered if he should shake his head and say no. But that would be very unexpected since everyone came here to get promoted and get fame. Only Prods, who were known to be exceptional at every act they rendered, would choose such a disappointing and 'humble' option.
Alex gave him an unbelieving glance, then grinned.
But also for him, he didn't feel like grinning a grin that was full.
The general was fooled, though, and Alex was, in seconds, in for his next round in the military-
-Which was also the most dangerous one, as he himself, had predicted.

He was given a better-ironed and neater uniform and as he folded it at the foot of his bed, Andrew and John stared at him and the uniform, jaws at heir feet. But Mark was quicker than the rest to understand the situation.
"Don't you see? Alex has always been the best and the know-it-all. He was Fawkes' pet," He spat out the words angrily. Everyone in the room winced at the first ever criticism made directly at the (in)famous Alex Mars-except Alex himself. "Very apologetically, you are correct, Mark," Alex said, then flopped onto his bed. Everyone thought that he was too angry to move nor say his dirty words back at Mark or all of them.
Instead, Andrew soon found out that Alex was already off to sleep.

The next day, Alex, for the first time during the months he had spent going to the training space, went to the space in front of the generals' office straight away in his new, stiff uniform. Only Fawkes was standing there, sipping coffee. He raised his eyebrows as if pleased, placed his mug of coffee on a desk in front of the office and nodded at Alex. They walked over to a space where military jeeps were parked in-obviously a parking lot.
"You don't train the others now, sir?" Alex asked, a bit surprised as they went. Fawkes scratched his forehead. "No. as I told you before, it's field work-your fellow soldiers will do some hard labor from today with General Forest. Well, let me start the demonstration for our work from today. This year, it's our base's turn to deal with the convicted of the nation. We pick them up from jails back to this base. It's easy, yes. Rather boring. It's a shame to waste your time and skills on this, Alex, but this was the best I could do," So this man should be very fond of me, Alex thought. "Thank you," He replied curtly. "So what happens to the convicted we bring back here?" He added, curious. Fawkes rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We subject them to field work, labor, or training, though they'll never work as advantageous, prominent soldiers like you or me. Or we just...do what he government tells us," The general mumbled the last part quickly and softly. Alex was about to ask the details of what 'what the government tells us' was when they reached a shiny military Jeep with black, sleek sides. The general slipped onto the drivers seat, after rubbing the metal hood swiftly and carefully, savoring the feeling. "This was given to me when I became a general years ago," He grinned and shut the door, obviously gesturing from inside to Alex to get on the passenger's seat.
Not thinking twice, Alex climbed in.
The car smelled of metal, ammunition, and leather. It was a masterpiece, he had to recognize(well, let me remind you. Climate change was still rampant, so every nation had been required to use environmentally friendly cars. And this jeep was an electric one, in case you might be suspicious). The general pushed his keys in and fired the Jeep into life roughly as if hitting his pony to start galloping forward. He surprisingly drove the car smoothly, though. They drove to the entrance and as soon as the guards checked the driver and they were out of the base, he lit up a cigarette. He blew smoke out through the open window through his mouth, grinning. Alex inhaled the smell into his nose and thoughtfully watched the scenery outside his closed window. Since it the first time for him to leave the base after months, his eyes traced the road which he had memorized last time, which would lead back to his hometown. But the general took a different course from the start, and he stared at the split of the roads(the other road would lead to his hometown) sadly. The general was too content with smoking and driving with one hand, so he didn't notice it.
The Jeep shot smoothly on the road to where the general was planning to go to. They passed pastures, buildings of grey, factories, and rumbled on newly painted bridges-places where Alex was unfamiliar with. Well, it made sense since he had never left his hometown until his military drafting.
Fawkes turned the wheel and entered a street with neat, glassed buildings. Recently built, Alex thought as they passed people who were all in suits or military uniforms.
The general drove the Jeep to a booth at the side of the wall. Actually, the wall was a steel shutter hanging from a steel beam meters up connected to a real, concrete wall-behind that, there had to be something.
A man in a uniform and a gun slung over his shoulder leaned out and asked the general his name. Fawkes spat his identity out as if he had done it a million times(to be exact, he had done it 68 times in his life since he became a general). The man got a bit rigid as he heard the name, saluted deeply, eyeing Alex Mars in the passangr's seat, then pressed a button in his booth. The metal shutters of the street started to rise slowly with a machenical droning sound and they all saw what was beyond it.
An ancient-looking, uninteresting grey building with little glass windows stood inside firmly, guards with helmets on and guns in their hands pacing here and there, especially near the entrance of the building, which was a steel, thick door. Alex noticed the man in the booth speaking into his microphone at his shirt, and heard the words 'Got it, Brown's on his way to guide them," from the other side of the line loudly enough.
Fawkes drove into the space and parked right in front of the entrance.
Fawkes and Alex Mars stepped into the space and the metal shutter came down right behind their backs.
Fawkes looked around glumly, dropping soot from his cigarette onto the ground, then stomped his foot on it, drawing black streaks on the ground. "This is a prison, Alex. As I said before, we are going to take the convicted who are scheduled to be released today to the base. Don't tempt the fellas, they usually go berserk when you smile at them, even. Just follow me and just put them in shackles as soon as their arms are out from behind the bars," "Aye-aye, sir," Alex muttered as the guard he assumed as Brown quickly walked towards them.
They were led into the biulding via the steel door. Brown expressed his happiness at seeing them both and even tried to shake hands with Alex-but only to be polite. And by the way, Alex just pushed his hands into his pockets to avoid the handshake. He watched from behind as Brown muttered that the general had brought a nutshell who knew nothing about manners. Luckily, Fawkes noticed also, and repeated his explanation for his choice for Alex.
They walked down the hallway to another thick, steel door that was white. Brown swiped his card through a slot, and the door opened after 5 seconds of beeping. Brown turned away to enter after giving Alex Mars a glare. Gee, why do everyone have to hate me? Alex thought as he walked into the next room which was-
Bars of steel met him and he looked straight into the first cell-on the dirty, stone floor sat a man with an unkempt beard, propped up by the wall. He was muttering something under his breathe, and only his eyebrows twitched as the door opened. His hand was scarred and veins showed weakly through the pale skin. He was skinny and there were dark circles under his eyes.
"What number is he?" He heard the general speak. Alex just stared at the man who looked so-lost in his own world, not caring about his physical life nor form, just savoring his life in imaginiation...
"He's 6853. It's his third year here, so he's one of the guys to leave today," Brown pressed himself to the steel and gripped the bars. "53, you're leaving. They're here. Get the fuck up from the floor," He growled, and the man, 6853, twitched his eyes a bit more. Alex was now a bit afraid of the man, though he looked weak. Yes, he would be weak, but determined and strong in his mental form-he was the kind that would fight till the end to live.
The man didn't attack, but rather, got up with a grunt and walked silently to the bars. Brown snickered, swiped his card twice in another similar slot and the door creaked open. The man slowly put a bare foot on the place where the door had been. He took a deep breathe, then walked out of his cell. He made no move to kill, nor seemed as if he was willing to. Fawkes poked Alex, and Brown handed him a bundle of white, plastic handcuffs. Though plastic, they were mechanical and very firm, Alex knew. His hands just moved automatically to receive them and held the man's wrists to fasten the cuffs onto his free arms. Free feet and body after 2 years-but still-restrained wrists. He winced at the thinness of the man's arms. They almost fit smugly into his grip as if it was a child's wrist-it was that thin.
He grunted very softly and tried to ignore a feeling of something bad as he fastened the cuffs and stepped away to stand behind Fawkes so the man would be no longer be able to speculate him silently.
With the man pushed in front of them, they moved on the next person and Alex clicked cuffs on her. He now didn't even look at the convicted, since a guilty feeling had somehow created itself in his gut.
What would the Martyr say when he saw me here? Alex thought grimly as he clicked on more cuffs, hands automatic. To make more guilt in him, the cuffs snapped shut and firmly onto the numerous thin, pale wrists, some scarred, and some freshly running of blood from the self-abuse of fingernails.
So when they got out of the place, Alex Mars' breathe was racing and he was astonished to see that Brown was smiling and the general was thoughtfully inspecting his hoard of convicted. "This group is fragile. Just a disappointment, Brown, that they are all ordinary scoundrels. It would be of greater pride of patriotism if there was at least one rotten Prod to kill," Fawkes almost whispered the words at the side of his Jeep as Brown pushed in the people onto the back of the Jeep. But Alex Mars unfortunately heard it all. He managed to recover from the surprise of the amount of hatred his general had toward Prodigies when Fawkes' eyes shot to him to see if he had overheard-he instead pretended to be examining a virtual dent in the side of the Jeep. Brown chuckled at the previous statement from the general, then gave the back of the Jeep a sorry glance. "Maybe we should give them socks when they get out of jail-they are polluting your car floor," "Yeah. My friend is going to hep me with that-I'll ask him to clean the floor up later," The general smirked at Alex.
Ok, to sum up, things are going strange-the general is strange, my job is strange, Alex Mars thought.
"Hey, Al, that was a joke. Now get the hell on," The general's added remark echoed into his ears. He suddenly felt as if he had been tricked. The general had seemed to appreciate him with all of his heart-but what had happened just now was against-
He got in and muted off his useless thuoghts.
Still, he felt his guilt and anger in the pit of his stomache intensify even more all the while.

After parting with Brown and one silent hell of a ride(excluding the grunts of the convicted on the back of the Jeep when the Jeep bounced on some bumpy tracks), Alex Mars jumped off the Jeep as soon as he could. The general had said that his task of cleaning the Jeep was going to be a joke, so he hoped it would be that way for real and left for his room. He didn't still dare look back at the conviteced-since he knew that they would look like pigs on their way to the butcher.
He still felt their eyes staring at him at the back, though, and he had to admit-it was a bit eerie-even for himself, the fearless Prodigy. He wasn't scared at all of their appearances or the crimes they had committed-he was rather frightened of what they were all thinking about him as he slinked away from reality and back to his room.