An armed boxcar train slipped through the night. It passed through prairies and deserts. It was careful not to disturb anyone in the nearby towns, nor the crickets that serenaded the night.The interior of the train cars had been quiet for a long time, aside from typical sleep sounds. It was late and everyone present had endured a long day. The train made various stops outside of big cities to let people in, but never out. Every new group of people, children mostly, were distraught. 
They asked the same question, "Where are we going?"
Nobody had the answer. Nobody even spoke. They were struggling with the idea of being trapped in a cold metal box with the monsters their parents warned them about, even more with the fact that they were all just children. They especially couldn't wrap their minds around the fact that they were living every child's nightmare. There was a palpable sense of reluctant change in the air. They could taste it, smell it, and feel it all over their bodies as if it were drowning them. Some were dehydrated from crying, naturally. Some were feeling hunger pains, since the last time they had something decent to eat was the morning before their last test. It was difficult to fall asleep in the cold train cars, but some of them managed. 
 
No individual, let alone a group, had enough energy to fight back. A silent understanding of what would happen if anyone tried using their powers or escaping was present in the form of guns in the hands of guards who stood at every door. The malfunctions either had broken spirits or were smart enough to know to keep quiet and hope for the best. Unless jostled by the train itself, not a single soul moved. Their brains were too fried from their most recent tests to even process what was happening to them. The children only vaguely understood that they were on their way to be stripped of individuality and transformed into little supersoldiers. It seemed like a bad dream, from which they hoped they would wake from soon.
 
Without warning, the train was stopped. The doors were opened with audible force. White light, too intense to be anything but man-made, flooded into the cars. It strained the eyes of the passengers. It stunned them. Guards at every door started pulling and pushing kids out into the open station. It was the absolute definition of chaos. People pushed each other to the ground causing chain reactions of injury and anger. A wave of complaints spread over the mass of people. Some malfunctions broke down and cried, some angrily muttered to themselves. Still, order was forced and eventually followed. Masses of people were herded up stairs on either side of the train track, forced together, and marched into a concrete and dirt arena. 
 
At the front of the room was a balcony where a man in a crisp olive suit stood. He was flanked by more guards and some other official looking people.
"Welcome to TEF-149," he boomed, "You will call me Sir." 
The room was dead silent. No one dared make a noise. 
"This is your home. Take your hopes of going back to your families and burn them. It is not your fault that you are here. You can blame your parents for this. You are here because your DNA is a danger to society, but not for long. We are going to teach you to control yourself so that maybe, maybe, you can be a benefit to us again." Sir continued with his speech. He was matter-of-fact and stern. Nobody wanted to find out what he was like when he was angry. 
"Tonight, you will receive your new identification cards, to be kept on you at all times. You will be shown to your quarters and expected to be awake by 0600 tomorrow morning. Your training will start tomorrow after breakfast. Make your country proud." 

With that, Sir walked out through the doors behind him, followed closely by the other officials and the guards. The people left in the room were ushered through doors to the left where doctors stood, ready to poke and prod. They were forced into slow moving lines. Questions were asked, demanding short answers. Blood was drawn, fingerprints taken as well as photographs. From there, ID cards were distributed. The children were split into groups of fourty to be carted off to cells with bunk beds. At the entrance, they were given grey sleeping clothes to change into which were only roughly their sizes. This had to be done quickly, so that the suppliers could move on to the next cell as more kids came through. Once everything was sorted, the children were left to their own devices.