Author's Note:

I do not own Generator Rex.

Van Kleiss's clone woke to existence on a brisk February day. Like most first birthdays, he was nameless and naked.

The clone noticed the cold first. It caused him quite a shock— to not exist, and then to suddenly be an exposed, shivering thing in the bright light. He tried to scream. It is a natural first instinct, to cry out like newborn children tend to do. It is the vocalization of need, of surprise. All he could manage though was a strangled yelp.

He jerked against the IVs— the drips— the tubes stuck to his body. There was a plastic snake at his nose, metal wire-worms tapped to his chest and a needle at his wrist. The table against his back felt hard and cold.

A word popped into the clone's brain:

Metal.

He pondered at it. Chewed up its meaning. Language was like a river flowing through his brain— quick, frothy, babbling.

The light above, the light bulb, the lamp— brightly burned his eyes.

In the light, the clone noticed a man standing over him, staring down.

The man said: "Hello, clone. Welcome to the world. My name is Van Kleiss."

The clone blinked at the pale, aging face above him. The man...Van Kleiss, towered over the clone like a monolith, despite his salt-and-pepper hair, his patronly wrinkles, the gentle smile on his face.

The clone thought he should try to speak to this man, Kleiss. The word hello popped into his brain and would not let go.

"H— hh— ha—" the clone strained, his breath tight in his throat. "...H-hello."

Van Kleiss's face grew dimples at the mouth corners, and he threw back his head and laughed.

The clone watched, transfixed by the sight and sound. He couldn't understand why the man was laughing, but he enjoyed the expression. It made him happy.

Van Kleiss stopped laughing soon and looked down at the clone. "So eager to chat." He said, "you lot usually don't make so much as a sound for at least a week, but you must be special. Well, hello, hello…" he waved, then made a thoughtful click of his tongue.

"No problems with sight and hearing, then. Let's see if you can feel pain…" The man Kleiss raised his right hand, and the clone examined it with large eyes.

Van Kleiss's right hand was completely made of golden, shiny metal. The tips of his fingers had large round holes in them— and with a sharp click, needles emerged from the holes. The needles looked medical-like as if used for administering medicine or extracting blood.

Van Kleiss gently took the clone's right arm, which was pale, skinny and made of flesh— before he jabbed the needle of his forefinger into the clone's palm.

The clone winced and tried to snatch his hand back from Van Kleiss.

"I know," Kleiss said apologetically, "pain is terrible, but be glad you have it. You may hate the pain, but it tells you what's wrong with your body. It tells you what to stay away from. Without it, you won't know what to be afraid of."

Van Kleiss took his needle out of the clone's palm. With another click, all of his needles retracted to a mysterious place inside his metal arm.

The clone opened and closed his hand with a pang. He didn't care for the lesson he'd just been taught, he never wanted to feel pain ever again… it was...well, he couldn't find a word for it. Bad.

"I'm going to unplug you from all these monitors so you can stand up, alright?" Van Kleiss tapped his metal hand against a strange machine near the clone's head. It looked like a…

TV. The word popped into the clone's brain.

Computer.

The clone blinked, watching Van Kleiss, his movements and his face. He noted the man's reddish-brown eyes. His shoulder-length hair. Despite the fact that Kleiss had hurt him, the clone found himself comforted by the shape of his face. Something about Kleiss's pointed nose, hard jaw, and the like made him feel as if he had known the man for years and years.

Van Kleiss began taking some of the plastic tubes and wire-worms out and off of the clone's body. After a needle connected to some sort of drip was removed from the clone's wrist did Kleiss usher for the clone to sit up.

The clone did, feeling his muscles ache in his belly and arms. His head swam.

"That's it, up, up, up…" Kleiss encouraged.

The clone did not want to stand up. He wanted to lie on the metal table until his head stopped spinning— but he also wanted to listen to the nice man, to make him happy. The clone slid off the table until his feet touched the ground. He stood upright—

The clone almost immediately lost his balance and watched the floor come to greet his face.

Van Kleiss laughed heartily again, his voice raspy. "That's alright clone, take your time."

The clone puffed air out of his nose, his eyes tearing up. Pain was in his life again, and it was still bad. He scrambled to push himself off the tiled floor. When he stood again, he wobbled and braced himself against the table.

"And you're up!" Kleiss smiled and nodded.

The clone mimicked the action of nodding, which caused Kleiss to laugh even more. This confused but delighted the clone.

The clone finally got a good look at where he was.

A word popped into the clone's brain:

Kitchen.

It was a weird...kitchen. The ceiling was made up of shiny, brown wood. There were no windows. There were counters full of strange viles, tools, and beakers, but also stovetops and tall, man-sized fridges, with a sink against a wall. There even was a dishwasher next to the sink. The checkered floor stretched unassumingly underneath his feet.

A diagram of a naked man hung on the wall, his muscles and veins labeled with odd symbols.

"This is where I cloned you." Van Kleiss said. "Here." Van Kleiss turned and took a pile of clothes that were neatly folded on the table behind him. "Put this on. I can imagine you're cold, yes?"

The clone looked at the clothes, blinked, and took them from Kleiss. The clone carefully unfolded them on the table he'd woken on. He now had a plain white t-shirt, some pants, some socks, shoes, and underclothes.

"When you're done, follow me outside." Van Kleiss nodded again, and the clone copied him. Kleiss chuckled and left the kitchen, moving to a doorway at the far end of the room.

Once alone, the clone began to slowly dress himself. The instructions for dressing rang in his mind on their own volition- put your foot there, pull that up, make sure it's not backward. Other than that, the actions felt intuitive.

He kept his left hand braced on the table, and started with his underclothes and pants. He slipped his shoes on next. When he finally put on his white shirt, he struggled to put his head all the way through, and nearly tripped again. He squeezed the side of the table to stay upright.

Shirt on, he looked and realized he'd created a dent in the metal table from digging his fingers into it.

The hand-shaped dent startled him. He examined his left hand. His hand and arm were made of gold, shiny metal, just like Van Kleiss's.

The clone wondered if he could summon needles from his fingertips too.

He heard Van Kleiss's voice from the other room: "Are you done yet?"

The clone remembered he was supposed to follow Kleiss into the next room and wobbled on uncertain feet towards the doorway.

###

"I want you to see something, clone." Van Kleiss said when the clone caught up with him.

They stood in a hallway with many doors and no windows, which led out of the 'kitchen'. The hallway was paneled with glossy wood.

The clone nodded at the man Kleiss.

"Look at you, nodding this way and that. You learn quickly, don't you?" Kleiss smiled, his smile lines becoming defined.

The clone nodded. He guessed that nodding made Kleiss happy- he wanted him to be happy.

Kleiss's smile dropped. "Well, you still have much to learn. It'll take a while for you to get used to speaking."

The clone nodded...

"Follow me." Van Kleiss directed. "We don't have much time." He started walking down the long hallway at a brisk pace, and the clone nearly tumbled over his own feet trying to keep up.

After many perilous twists and turns that led the clone down a curious set of rooms and hallways did they stop in front of a pair of red double-doors. The clone had only tripped and stumbled once as he followed Kleiss, so he felt proud of himself at the end of their journey.

"This is my favorite part." Van Kleiss told the clone, and the clone nodded even though he didn't understand.

Kleiss pushed the double-doors open, and the clone had to shield his eyes as intense light flooded his vision. A chilly gust of wind made him shiver.

"Come forward, you'll be alright," Kleiss said, giving a cursory push to the clone's shoulder.

The clone stepped blindly forward, just as he was told.

"Look." Kleiss said.

The clone opened his eyes fully, his pupils adjusting to the light. He saw the colorful ceiling yawn impossibly wide above him, growing infinitely big.

A word popped into his head: sky.

The building behind him was built on a steep cliff that overlooked a large pool of water, which stretched for miles and seemed to touch the sky. Kleiss and the clone stood at a rocky pavilion overlooking the blue water.

A word popped into his head: ocean.

A bright orange light illuminated the horizon as if it set the ocean ablaze. The sky was blue and pink and yellow all at the same time, growing brighter near the sun at the horizon and growing dark and deep as he looked all the way up till his neck hurt. The light of the disappearing sun broke through the strange white fluffs that floated all around in the nothingness.

A word popped into his head: sunset.

The clone swallowed hard, transfixed. He stood still and wide-eyed. Despite the cold weather, he felt rather warm, like the waves could drift him to sleep.

And then there were no more words popping into his head.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Van Kleiss said. "I always wake up clones at a clear sunset. It's amazing- I can build a fully functioning adult with my face and my powers. I can give him words with meanings and images to go with them, I can give him the ability to read, write and even think independently. And I have. But I've never been able to put a sunset into a clone's brain before. I can't tell a clone's brain what color is or what pain feels like unless they have the ability to see and feel it. Strange, I think."

The clone slowly nodded at Kleiss, even though he didn't quite understand what he meant. 'Build' an adult? 'Give' words to him?

Van Kleiss stared at the clone with an expression the clone didn't have a word for. "I wish I knew what was going through your head." He frowned. "At the exact moment you see a sunset for the first time. I'd give everything to know what's in that mind of yours." He sighed, his breath long and wistful. "I can build a brain from scratch, but I've never been able to figure it out."

The clone nodded, still completely at a loss. He wanted to put a smile back on Van Kleiss's face, though. He didn't like seeing him frowning. The clone moved in for a hug, wrapping his arms around the man's shoulders.

Van Kleiss quirked an eyebrow and pushed the clone off. "Um…" He said, definitely not smiling. "No. No hugging."

The clone cocked his head and frowned. For some reason, pain ached in his chest without anything physically hurting him. He couldn't understand that, either.