“They’ve arrived, sir.” A short man approached the doctor who didn’t stand much taller than him. The room’s walls were chrome with touch screens installed along their reflective surface. Joonmyeon’s office was pristine, not a thing out of place; nothing that didn’t shine with a gleam of perfection. It was quite sickening, actually, and mockingly uncomfortable.

“Good, let everyone know and have them go to the lab. Also, make sure the vessels are escorted to their respective rooms and given their treatment.”


--

The corridors were impossibly long and bleak. Like being locked in a metallic room only wide enough to lift your arms out, but not short enough to ever end. Never the less, the grey sheen always ended up taking its toll over people within years, and suddenly everything’s the same and it’s too much of a routine to feel claustrophobic any longer.

The moments passing were crucial and Joonmyeon almost found himself running toward the doors that behind them hid the treasure that he and many others had worked on for years. It seemed like a millennia before he reached them, coming to a complete stop once he did. The windows on the door were tinted with black to hide away the secrets locked behind heavy slabs of metal encoded with finger prints and secrets.

Joonmyeon stood there for a moment and tried to make the shaking anxiety calm; willed for his stomach to stop flipping and his heart to cease racing. None of which honestly subsided, and he instead could feel the trickle of sweat trailing down his temple. He’d waited so, so long for this.

He wiped one clammy palm against his immaculate lab coat before pressing it against the passcode scanner. He continued by then pressing his thumb into place, and followed with a security code that finally unlocked the large chromatic doors. They slid open, slow and heavy, releasing a gust of decidedly chilled air from the lab that smelled of medical gloves and chemicals.

The room was large and quiet aside from the mechanical tick of precise breathing, out dated clocks, and meticulous beeping. Isles of beds were orderly aligned throughout the room, hanging sheets giving each one their own limited amount of privacy. Joonmyeon took a deep breath and began to approach the first bed, which he couldn’t see behind the blue curtain. He stood idly for a moment; allowed the sound of ventilators and ECG’s to waft through his ears to even his unsteady breathing.

Joonmyeon darted a hand upward and took a handful of the blue curtain and yanked it back before his senses taught him better. He gasped, eyes going wide as he choked on the air that filled too quickly in his lungs. A pair of bug eyes stared straight up at him; their shape nearly that of a fairy’s. The boy’s face was covered by a too large breathing mask, vapors fuzzing out of the corners and seeping into the air the doctor breathed.

The boy who laid on the medical bed blinked up at the doctor, face blank and uninterested. Joonmyeon had to catch his thoughts for a moment. He, and so many others, had waited years for such a thing to happen. They’d worked day in and day out. They’d bled, starved, and sweated over their project, and finally Joonmyeon could say that the slow dripping hours of seemingly redundant work was not all in vain.

The doctor cleared his throat and pulled the tablet in his shaking hands closer to his chest, a gesture that’d helped him gain a sense of security throughout the years. His throat felt dry like gravel as he gulped down his nerves and fixed a practiced smile onto his face.

“Hello,” he gave a slight bow toward the boy who laid in front of him. The other didn’t reply, only continued to watch the man with a distant stare.

Joonmyeon wasn’t so sure why he was expecting a reply as if he wasn’t aware that their freedom of speech had to be initiated by coding.

“Do you know who you are?” The doctor asked as he pulled over a rolling stool from a nearby desk and sat in front of the seemingly lifeless boy.

“A.I. C74, Park Chanyeol. Carcass age 22, system age 3. Creator, Kwon Boa. Date of manufacture not applicable.” His voice sounded worn and croaky, nearly unperceivable beneath the breathing mask.

“Ahh, you have an older system. We’ll have to update you once we’re done with this little checkup.” He spoke to the boy despite his current lack of capability for understanding any words other than simple demands and questions.

Joonmyeon examined the boy, pressed through his abdomen for any strange responses and curiously played with his limbs. “Can you feel any of this, Chanyeol?” He asked, pressing on the tanned exposed stomach.

“Yes.” Chanyeol quite literally sounded nearly dead; but Joonmyeon could only expect as much from a carcass that hadn’t held life in over two months.

“Sianna, call for team 8F to gather in laboratory 503.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sianna was an OS, a very, very impressive and intelligent OS who was truly no different than talking to your regular human secretary. She was installed throughout the entire facility; she was a true protector. Sweet, sassy, and not a single thing went unseen by her many cameras throughout the assortment of buildings.

The team arrived quickly after Sianna had made an announcement over the facility intercom.

Joonmyeon stood at the front of the room, a welcoming smile plastered on his face as the other doctors and scientists made their way into the sterile laboratory.

“As you all know, I was eager to be the first to see and test the A.I. Components.” He gestured his shoulder toward the slivers of curtains that hid dozens of hospital beds. “The first one I was able to examine was Component 74. He’s impressively responsive, and I’m very confident that we will be able to easily correct any malfunctions in their systems if need be. But first, we must assess all components. Watch for both internal and external malfunctions, enroll the proper coding for your individual component, also make sure that they’re pupils are responsive.” He bowed, and the team clapped at the speech of their current leader.



Years that passed moved as quickly as summer months, and Joonmyeon never thought he’d see the day when there would be hundreds upon hundreds of his crew’s creations lingering around the facility. As their operations on carcasses grew with success of making great components, hundreds became closer to thousands and Joonmyeon was inching closer and closer to the goal he’d been aiming for, for what seemed like too long.

The facility was vivacious day and night with classes for their A.I.; physical training and intellectual lessons being stuffed into their heads. Joonmyeon could see flashes of blue and white striking through a window of one of the many training rooms, the sound of glass exploding and shattering to the ground nearly startling him.

He walked to the, now agape, window and peeked through its small frame. “You just broke a very expensive shatter proof window, Jongdae.” Joonmyeon looked pointedly at the component who wore a glib smirk on his face.

“I blame you for making me so great, Dr. Kim.” He bowed sardonically, electricity buzzing at his fingertips.

Joonmyeon smiled despite the displeasure of feeling glass crunch beneath his shoes and crumble into a million malicious shards. “Please be more careful. I’d hate to make you start cleaning up your own messes.” He shook a small wave at the rest of the class, a polite smile brightening his features before he continued down the hallway. “Sianna, would you have someone cleanup the glass in hall 54?”

“One of these day’s he’s going to blow this building down, sir.” She said, voice clipped, but mostly clear through the small speaker attached to his lab coat’s pocket.

--

“They need people in London, there’s more attacks happening.” The tall man instructed, almost monotonously. Kyungsoo wasn’t as familiar with this bot. He was obviously a much older model, features a tad too pointed, emotions incredibly lacking, physical stature stiff and unnatural. Kyungsoo wasn’t curious as to why he’d never met the A.I before throughout his life of growing up in the precinct. New and old bots come and go with the turbulent of attacks on different cities and countries; instructing with rules and often fighting alongside their combatants.

“Who are the attackers,” Luhan asked with no interests; only asked because it’s the best reaction you learn to have after risking your life in battle upon battle.

“Not applicable.” The bot showed a slight trace of simulated pity, but with a tick he was back to his blank features. “I am sorry that I failed to introduce myself, I am Yifan.”

The room filled with no less than twenty people greeted him, mixed voices blurring together to sound as one big dreary chant of “Welcome, Yifan.”

“Thank you.” He gave a slow bow to his peers. “You will be taking your assessment tests today. The tests are long, and both mentally and physically challenging. It is important that you put your all into these tests, for they will be what matches you with your most compatible component. Once you are matched, there will be no reassignments and your chips will be fused with each other’s coding. The harder you work and the less careless you are, the faster your testing will be done and the more accurate your results will be.” Yifan pointed to the rows of uniforms piled on top of desks to the side of the room. “Your uniforms are there. I expect you all to be dressed within 15 minutes. I will be outside waiting, come to me when you are finished.” He left the room without any further words, closing the door behind him and leaving the fighters to scurry into their uniforms.

--

The building they entered was bleak, chromatic, threatening to swallow the fighters in a silence which was only broken by their own pattering of footsteps. Yifan had told them to follow him, where he led them into a white room, walls absent of anything other than a flat screen that faced toward rows of school desks.

Once they were all assigned to their seats, the glass top of Kyungsoo’s black desk lit up. A message popped up on its screen asking for a code and thumb print. The screen at the front of the room announced the code to all the fighters before they were pulling out the pencil sized styluses from the side of their desks and wrote in their answer, following with pressing their thumbs to its screen.

That part of the test lasted no less than two hours, the questions somewhat stifling and unconventional; questions you’d probably never think to ask anyone. However, they were only given a short break before they were sent back to their room and given another written test, this time the questions being based on war and horror, love and care. That part of the test didn’t last as long, maybe more than an hour before they were hurried from that room to the next.

A row of instructors, some bots and some human, were lined against the front wall of the room. That space was much, much bigger than the last and the walls weren’t so untouched. Cracks and indentions bruised the walls all around them, some corners of the room a little more frayed than the rest.

“Here you will be taking your physical tests and exams. You will be fighting simulations and will be put through mentally triggering situations. We will simulate hallucinations, and your enemies will be pared with abilities that many of the newer components possess. You should know what you will be fighting with, by first fighting against it. Any damage you cause to the room will not matter, the walls are designed to mostly heal themselves. Do play messily if you must.”

That part was by far the most trying of it all, by no surprise. Kyungsoo found himself hanging by levers he’d formed from the ceilings cement in attempt to better reach a flying enemy. Cement formed around his arm, becoming an exoskeleton as he forced it to extend and crash hard against his enemy’s side causing the simulation to fling against the wall before it was dispersing into static and then into nothing. There were all sorts of enemies coming his way as he dropped to the ground, ones who possessed abilities of fire, electricity, water, teleportation, etcetera. They were everywhere swarming around the cement sanctuary he’d formed around his body, blasting their powers at it until grout was crumbling to the ground and cracking through Kyungsoo’s protection.

He swore he could hear cries, a child’s cry. It was loud and shaky, lost somewhere beneath rocks and foliage. The child’s voice only began to sound louder, suffocating him until Kyungsoo was squatting onto the heels of his feet. ‘Help me, Kyungsoo! Bubba, please!! Help me!’ Rung loud in his ears. The word ‘bubba’ squelching over and over again until Kyungsoo was squeezing his eyes shut and hitting his ears with the palms of his hands. “Stop it!” Kyungsoo screamed at the voice taunting and echoing in his head as the walls around him continued to falter. ‘Bubba, I’m scared—Where are you?!’ shrieked. “Stop it!!” Kyungsoo burst again, his form standing up right and his burrier exploding against the enemy’s around him. It hardly made an impact, but made for a worthy enough distraction as he bolted toward the wall. He jumped, his feet landing against the wall’s surface as he lunged off and caused the entire room to shake, making his enemies wobble for balance as he extracted gravel to burst through the flooring of the room and crash against the simulations.

All but two flickered until they were gone. The remaining enemies were paired with transportation and wind. Kyungsoo could tell by the way one’s hair continued to drift despite the still air of the room and the way the other was on the opposite side of the room that Kyungsoo had aimed the gravel. He assessed the situation, continuously keeping his legs busy, keeping his body ready to move.

Something clogged in his throat, making him choke on virtually nothing and he felt a bang against his back. He was down now, on the floor writhing for clearance of his wind pipes as he watched the transportive enemy appear at his side again, kicking him in his shoulder and then his gut.

Kyungsoo attempted pulling earth from beneath him, but nothing was working. His hand was holding to his neck as the other banged against the ground, his face red and sweaty and frantically wrecked. There was a buzzing sound in his ears, loud and unclear. He stilled for a moment, trying to calm himself, and gave a ferocious slam against the slick floor. The ground shook, cracking beneath his body and making the opponents fall to their knees. It gave Kyungsoo a chance to lung at the wind enemy, grabbing for her head and snapping it sideways with a forceful twist of his own arms. A gust of wind filled his lungs as the blockage was relieved and the simulation disappeared between his hands. Kyungsoo thought it was a lot better than feeling the body twitch, stutter, and die out in his own grasp. Much better.

Leaving the transporter for last was a strategic plan Kyungsoo had made at the very beginning, watching the simulation’s patterns of teleportation and blowing everyone out to make that tricky bastard easy to get rid of without any distractions. Kyungsoo stood, trying to hide the heaving of his chest as he and the simulation waited for the other to make a move.  He expected some kind of witty comment, at least a snarky smile or a crack of the knuckles, because that’s what enemies did, right?  But it was easy to forget that simulations weren’t real like Kyungsoo. It was safe to say that there were less humans like himself, than there were A.I.’s.

The motionless opponent was gone in a flash, and all of a sudden Kyungsoo felt an immediate weight slamming down onto his shoulders, taking him down to the ground. He immediately surrounded himself in a barrier, the ground pulling from beneath him to encircle him, only leaving small enough holes around the dome to see outside of it.

Pain thrummed throughout his entire body, and he felt like he may have broken a shoulder after taking that blow. Kyungsoo looked out at the small lights shining in and tried to spot the fighter. “Where is it,” Kyungsoo silently mouthed. His heart stopped and he gasped, his body startling as he felt a hand grabbing forcefully at his scuffed up shoulder. The air inside the dome felt scarce and unmoving, even as he whipped around to see the simulation inside of his barrier. The boy immediately illuminated the barrier before he was forming one tightly around the simulations body, not giving it enough time to escape before kicking through it and smashing it against a wall, making the rocks follow and slam against it until its figure was no longer there.

The warrior slumped to the ground, lungs giving up their tight grip and inhaling all that they could. “You went easy on the hallucinations,” Kyungsoo breathlessly called out to the cameras watching him.

A voice broached over the intercom, scratchy and staticy as if it were the oldest bit of technology in the building “We had you fighting the stronger simulations. Strong hallucinations weren’t necessary.”

--

“It’s going to be weird working with a component. I don’t think I’ve ever met one.” Luhan kicked the gravel beneath their feet as they walked around outside of the precinct. 

Kyungsoo watched the rock that he was making bounce through the air and dance in the beams of sunlight. “Yeah, it’s going to be weird. It’ll be like working with robotic zombies.” His mouth split into a slightly confused ‘o’ shape as his rock was pulled out of his minds grasp. Luhan caught it in his fist, and Kyungsoo rolled his eyes. “Why do you always do that?”

“Because it gets on your nerves so easily,” Luhan’s smile was peachy. “But you’re right. They might as well be zombies. They used to be humans, like us, and then they died. I sometimes wonder how it’s going to be any better to have them than regular bots.”

“I kind of understand it, I guess.” He had a thoughtful look on his face as he snatched his rock back from Luhan with the magnificent work of his mind, now giving the older a playfully snooty look. “Their fighting techniques will probably be smoother and faster. They might be able to go longer without breaking down too since they can sleep and eat. They don’t need charged every three hours like most bots either.”

“Been doing some research?”

“Yeah, I just want to be aware of what we’re dealing with. I don’t know why they hardly tell us anything. This is important.” Kyungsoo sighed. The sun was going down, and even though they should’ve been heading back toward their dorms, they kept walking toward the old railroad track were the sun always seemed to shine brightest at sunset.

“I think they don’t want us to be afraid of them. Like I said, these are dead people we’re working with. We kill people a lot, whether it’s for good or not, we’re still killing people. Working with a dead person might be triggering to some people. Maybe our instructors want to ignore the ‘death’ factor; ignore mostly everything about the new A.I.’s other than that they will be good for us. I mean, some people may get components that vessel carcasses of people they knew, yuh know?

“I guess, but I just think they like keeping things from us just for the extra leverage.” Kyungsoo shrugged. “Everyone already knows that these are robots made out of dead humans, so there’s nothing to hide about that. If it was really about that, they’d be more adamant about focusing on their other qualities. But instead, they don’t tell us anything.”  

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

They’d finally reached the rusted rail road. Kyungsoo often ponder about how old it must’ve been; the trails were cracked and missing pieces. It looked worn down, used to its very brink until technology had really set sail; and then it was left as nothing. Forgotten for its useful good and its meaning. Kyungsoo adored the train track, felt sorry for it, felt lonely with it. It was his favorite place, mostly his favorite when he was a child. There had been a time when the trees that tunneled the railroad would bloom flowers that blushed the color of baby pink. He remembered the way he would kick through the petals, pretended like it was an ocean of silk flowers he could swim in as he laid atop the tracks and watched the rays of sun peak through the wedges of his out stretched fingers.

The sky was pink and the clouds were purple as the sun continued to sink and sink, leaving the two young men behind and shining for a different side of their world.

“Do you remember what it had been like to stay in Alaska with the sun shining through the sky for so many months?” Luhan asked, fingers sinking beneath the dirt between the tracks that they sat on.

Kyungsoo grimaced. Alaska held a lot of horrible memories for him, but most places did. “Yeah.”

“I thought I hated it,” Luhan sounded nonchalant for a moment, until something changed in his voice. “But now I miss it. I’m really tired of the dark.” He lolled his head back and basked in the last few moments of the day’s honey rays, furling and unfurling his fingers in the soil.

--

A week passed before that specific team’s test results had been completely flitted through and matched. They’d spent that time readying themselves for London, being trained and prepared for what it would be like to fight alongside varying components.

Jackson, one of the more lively fighters who never seemed to know how to stay still, smacked Kyungsoo on the shoulder. “Hey man! You ready to get paired today?” He was breathless, presumably just getting released from practice.

Kyungsoo rubbed his shoulder, a grimace on his face. “Watch out, Jackson, I just got my chip put back in.” He looked over at his bare shoulder where a small scar of laser stitched skin swelled. Jackson replied with a quiet ‘sorry dude,’ before Kyungsoo was answering his question. “Yeah, I’m kind of nervous about it I guess, but pretty excited. Just not looking forward to the fusion part.”

“Ahh, we’ll all be fine, man! Fusion only last like ten minutes anyways.” Jackson said it as if it wasn’t going to be some of the most painful ten minutes of their lives.



The building they went to this time was pristine with immaculate chrome desks, walls, doors, and chairs. Everything really was chrome in the future; unhomely, unwelcoming, cold. The halls were long and narrow, nearly asphyxiating Kyungsoo as his stomach tossed and turned the closer they got to the room where they would wait to meet their components. He wondered how well he could depend on the test to match him with a component he would fight well with and get along with as well. These components still used part of their carcasses brain, and Kyungsoo wasn’t sure how that differently effected these ‘bots’ if you could even call them that.

They lastly entered the room, it didn’t look much different than any of the rest. Its entire make up was chrome, aside from technology that littered the corners of the room. Kyungsoo could really use some fresh air right then, some rosy sun light and the heady smell of earth. Anything to take away the artificial lighting that washed out his skin and the potent smell of antiseptic.

A door opposite to the one they entered opened, and in came a woman in a lab coat. Her hair was pinned back in a ponytail, glasses breeched on the top on her head where they pulled her bangs from her worn out face.

“Hello team,” She prompted with a confident tonality. ‘Hello,’ they all echoed to the older woman. She looked infinitely exhausted, judging by the way dark bags drooped beneath her wrinkled eyes.

“We will only be calling three of you at a time, and you are to follow the instructor who calls your name. Please be patient, this may be a long process.”

Kyungsoo was both fortunate and unfortunate enough to be one of the last team mates to be called after grueling hours of waiting. He’d spent the majority of the time picking at the cloth that sat atop the metallic chair he’d had to sit on for so long that his had gone numb.

“Kim Heechul. Bang Yongguk. Do Kyungsoo.”

Each name was called out by a different instructor whom each fighter would have to follow individually.

Kyungsoo’s instructor, who was a tall woman with a strong build and shoulder length hair, led him into a spacious room where two hospital beds were placed in the middle.  They stood there for what felt like strenuously long moments, the woman not saying a word as she stood idly behind him.

It wasn’t soon enough that the door was opening again, two figures walking into the room. One was a nurse in their usual attire, while the person who stood beside him was covered in a large sheet from head to toe.

Kyungsoo eyed the two with a look of confusion and doubt as the doctor led the covered figure into one of the hospital beds.

“You’re not allowed to see him until we are done with the fusion, sir.” The nurse said, answering Kyungsoo’s unspoken questions. “Would you please lie in the spare bed?”

He really hated how monotonous and unalive everyone sounded in that place. Maybe it was for the sake of professionalism, but Kyungsoo never thought of showing a little personality as being ‘unprofessional’.

Kyungsoo walked over to the bed, and the hesitation he felt in his heart didn’t show through his confident stride. He always assumed it came along with being raised to be a great fighter. But despite his years of training, he could still feel his insides bubbling and bursting with nerves, adrenalin, and fear. They’d taken the microchip out only days prior to encode his and the components chips to have their DNA paired and their chips to be routed to one another. Now was the time for the initiation process, the fusion where they’d turn on their extraordinary little machines, and type away at the little keys, play with the two’s insides from the outside, make them into something that they originally were not. Into something that they were not meant to be. But that was Kyungsoo’s entire life, along with many others. They were projects, protectors, the creation of self entitled gods.

Another nurse walked into the room, pace quick as the two nurses swiftly hooked wires to him and the component. It never felt right, nor natural, the way the wires detected the closest vanes and puncture the skin on their own accord. Didn’t feel natural with the way they pulsed electricity and serums into his blood, making him feel thick and heavy. He could hardly move his arms as they weighed down next to his sides. And as the doctors that loomed in the laboratory above the room they were in, looking down through a glass window, announced through the intercom that ‘the fusion progress will begin in 3..2..’ Kyungsoo could only find enough strength in himself to let his head loll over to look at the bed opposite where a body lie hidden beneath blue linen.

The pain wasn’t sudden. It was creeping, taunting and laden as the waves of electricity began pumping through his vanes at higher velocities. Anticipation rumbled through his chest, and he could feel the way the blood flow of his body was beginning to slow. He could have sworn he heard a quiet mewl from the bed over, and Kyungsoo wondered if this hurt him too.

Kyungsoo’s back sprang into an arch, feeling as though something had slowly pulled apart inside of his chest until whatever it was had been ripped at the seams. There was a strained noise edging from Kyungsoo’s open mouth, vanes bulging in his neck as the feeling spread from his chest to his entire body. He didn’t remember it hurting that badly when he was a child and had been fused with his powers; didn’t remember feeling like he’d been ripped limb from limb.

Nothing could be heard in Kyungsoo’s mind other than the whirring of electrical currents and unwelcome serums swimming through his bloodstream, seeping into his body tissue, an acidic burn oozing through is muscles. If he were capable of it, he’d be able to hear the way his component heaved and squawked, thrashing against the bed despite the heaviness he felt in his bones.

After what felt like an eternity of reaching death, the fusion was finally over. It was like a complete off switch, and once it was done, so was the pain. He inhaled a deep breath, holding it in his lungs for longer than necessary before exhaling dense air.

He was first escorted out of the room after the two figures had regained strength on their beds. He waited for minutes upon minutes for his component to be brought out to the waiting area that Kyungsoo was forced to momentarily reside in. He tried to ignore his wrecked reflection in the chromatic walls, instead focusing on biting the nails off of his fingers.

When the door he’d been avoiding looking at for the past ten minutes had opened, his posture shot up straight, hands pinning to his sides. He watched as an unfamiliar instructor passed through the frame, and Kyungsoo expectantly waited for another figure to follow. But there was nothing.

“Where—“ Kyungsoo had to clear his throat because of the way his voice got caught in its chords. “Where is he?”

The instructor didn’t reply, only stared in silence at the knitted brows on Kyungsoo’s forehead. The boy chewed on his lower lip, and he didn’t really care to hide his anxiety. It was completely normal to be anxious over such circumstances, right? Kyungsoo thought so, anyhow.

Mere moments passed by before another body was walking through the opened door, frame dark in black scrubs and face covered with a paper medical mask. Kyungsoo couldn’t see much of his face, but he seemed young; hair chocolate brown and shaggy, adorning almond eyes that glistened eerily in the artificial light. Kyungsoo thought that maybe he was feeling his heart slowing down to a not-so rhythmic beat, and he thought that maybe the boy felt it too because he was placing his large palm over his chest in surprise.

“Do Kyungsoo, this is your component, Kim Jongin. Kim Jongin, this is your companion, Do Kyungsoo.”

He could feel his heart beat gaining normal speed again and his knees no longer felt as though they dared to give out.

“Hello,” Jongin croaked out unexpectedly.

Kyungsoo stammered for a moment before he was replying with a quiet ‘hello’ in return.

It wasn’t until the two were back at the precinct, not a word spoken in conversation on their way there that Jongin had finally taken off his mask. Jongin stood absently in Kyungsoo’s room as the latter began packing more things into duffle bags. He still hadn’t looked up or noticed the way the component was starting to play and ponder with the small nicknacks that littered his study desk.

“What is this?” Jongin spoke for the first time since they’d left the A.I.C facility.

Kyungsoo looked up to see Jongin fiddling with a glass bottle that held a green liquid. He shook it around curiously, watching as it swooshed against the glass and collided in tiny waves. This was Kyungsoo’s first time seeing Jongin without the mask, he hadn’t even noticed he’d taken it off. Jongin looked a lot more human than other bots, but then the boy was mentally cursing himself because Jongin’s body was human, not a vessel covered in silicone that had been manufactured to almost mirror what skin really looked like. No, instead this boy had dark, soft but taut looking skin, a few tiny scars marring along his cheek and the side of his chin. The component tipped his head with the tilt of the glass bottle, eyes following the liquid like a hungry puppy follows the sight of food. Kyungsoo could see the sharp line of Jongin’s jaw this way, shadows casting beneath its angular shape and casting darkness along the smooth lump of his Adam’s apple.

“Kyungsoo?” Jongin tried again, not looking at the human as he continued to watch the substance dance.

There was a sudden thickness in Kyungsoo’s throat as he swallowed when he heard the component speak his name for the first time. Jongin’s voice was low and croaky, tinged with the slight sound someone has when they’re sick with a cold.

“It’s something me and my brother made when we were children. It, um, we were trying to make poison.” He swallowed again, gulping louder than he liked.

Jongin’s lips spread wide across his face and his eyes broke from the substance and went to look at Kyungsoo. “Poison?” A rumble of laughter rolled from his throat. It sounded foreign as though it wasn’t a feature he often used, but it was too incredibly pleasant. “How do you know if it works?”

“We don’t. We didn’t.” He shrugged slowly, not a careless shrug. More of a ‘I wish I knew’ kind of shrug.

Jongin pursed his lips for a moment, eyebrows furrowing together as if in deep thought. Kyungsoo thought the man-robot-thing was strange, everything about him seemed so real; so alive.

The component looked at Kyungsoo once more before looking back down at the bottle in his hands and pulling the cork from the bottle.

“What are you doing?” Kyungsoo asked, an eye brow shooting up with suspicion.

Jongin didn’t answer, but instead tossed his head back and opened his mouth, inching the bottle closer and closer.

“What the hell?!” Kyungsoo shot across the room and snatched the bottle from the droid’s grip. “What are you doing?! This could hurt you!”

Jongin flashed that smile again, and Kyungsoo felt a little too close to be seeing something so bright. “I know, I just wanted to see if you knew that.”

Kyungsoo gave Jongin an incredulous look, because how would he not know something so simple? “You might be half robot, but you still have the body of a human. I’m not stupid.”

The tan male shrugged, and this one was much more lacking of care than Kyungsoo’s had been. “How was I supposed to know that?”


A deep sigh wafted from Kyungsoo’s lips. This was going to be a long, long process.


 

A/N: Hello~ So, this is the start to an au I've been wanting to write for a long time but have been too intimidated to lmao. I'm really excited to get this going, especially considering my strange fascination for humanoids and all;; I really hope you guys will enjoy this and I'll appreciate every ounce of support! :')
Please let me know what you think as the chapters go on. <3