Joonmyeon stared into the cylindrical container before him and slowly shook his head in reverent disbelief. An azure, fluorescent, heavily oxygenized liquid housed a slender and somewhat small body. Messy black hair framed a face with well-sculpted features and tickled a chiseled jawline. The ears were a little big, but that was alright. Joonmyeon chuckled wryly; in his efforts to create the perfect being, he ended up floundering when it came to physical appearance. It didn’t matter; he made Chen in his image, after all. The android looked perfect to him. He was perfect. His knees were pulled up to his chest. His skin looked wan and its translucence allowed Joonmyeon the pleasure of viewing the intricacies of his inner circuitry. Chen was truly beautiful. With every flex of his fingers and curl of his toes, the network of joints, ligaments, and thin wiring underneath Chen’s skin moved in response. Joonmyeon wiped his eyes. Chen would be ready for release soon…so soon that he could feel Chen’s skin underneath the pads of his fingers. So soon that he could imagine the color of Chen’s eyes. They would be an unnerving yet captivating shade of gunmetal blue, like a forged blade or the long barrel of a brandished pistol.

Joonmyeon hesitantly took a step away from Chen’s holding chamber and attended to an idle computer screen on the other side of the room. He pressed his fingers against the touch-sensitive key pad and watched the screens flicker and blink in and out, in and out, like the lights of downtown Apgujeong. Various small displays of quantitative and qualitative data, weather conditions, and biological information sorted themselves out amongst a wider transparency with predetermined dimensions. The young scientist sighed, ran his palm down his face, exasperated, and then began the tedious process of organizing all the information according to type, date, and file size. At least it would keep him occupied until the time to release Chen came.

Joonmyeon pulled up the monitor’s calendar and marked the date: September 21, 2085. A monumental day, for it would be the day where Chen lived and did not malfunction. His vital signs were strong and his development had no significant hiccups. Chen was Joonmyeon’s grandest, most beautiful accomplishment. Chen would rend a gaping wound in the speculative scientific community. He would herald the wave of a new era and Joonmyeon’s name would be attached to Chen’s revolutionary existence. The young man could barely wait for Chen to awaken; the raw desire for Chen to open his eyes and speak his first words made Joonmyeon salivate. The scientist wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and continued organizing his files.

Years of research, government sanctioned resources, and raw materials went into designing, constructing, and supporting advanced artificial life forms. Joonmyeon and his team—consisting of Do Kyungsoo and Byun Baekhyun—started where their predecessors left off in 2013 and continued expanding upon only a few albums and sheets of what looked like chicken scratch…and a duck with four legs. The original research group of the year 2013 had called themselves “Exo” although they never gave a meaning to the name. Under Joonmyeon’s direction, “Exo” stood for “Enterprising Xenia Operations,” the word Xenia stemming from the Greek concept of hospitality towards guests far away from their homes. In his reasoning, Joonmyeon felt that putting life together was taking a creature far from the realm of non-existence. As human beings, Joonmyeon and his team were placing themselves in God’s domain. Mortality could not even begin to reach Godliness; the scientists were a far, far way from home.

The hours passed and the afternoon eased into the evening. The rust-hued light of the setting sun colored the interior of the laboratory and washed over Joonmyeon’s face. The moment of awakening had come upon Joonmyeon and Chen far too quickly; the young scientist barely had a chance to emotionally prepare himself for Chen’s release. Baekhyun and Kyungsoo walked into the room trailed by a young curly-haired brunette with a youthful face, meticulously drawn winged eyeliner, and crimson lips. Joonmyeon knew the female scientist; she went by the name Chi Byunhi. Im Yoona was her great-great-great grandmother. Byunhi headed the linguistics department in EXO, so she usually came to the laboratory to survey the verbal skills of any newly awakened androids. Joonmyeon felt confident that Chen would speak Korean fluently; he spent years painstakingly constructing and installing Chen’s linguistic banks. Chen would be his most intelligent android. No mistakes. No hitches. Nothing wrong.

Instead of bowing as custom dictated, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo leapt upon Joonmyeon and embraced him tightly. This was the moment that the latter scientist had been living for. He had dissected the human figure; countless sacrifices went into building Chen and now…the tears refused to be dammed any longer. Baekhyun and Kyungsoo rubbed Joonmyeon’s back and led him to the control panel for Chen’s holding pod. Joonmyeon took a few preparatory breaths. Inhale, hold…exhale. With Baekhyun at his right, Kyungsoo at his left, and Chi Byunhi off to the side near the data display, Joonmyeon entered the input to drain the oxygenated liquid from the pod and free Chen from his solitary confinement.

The water drained slowly, about two 285 liters every four minutes. Joonmyeon began to pace back and forth despite his colleagues asking him to stand still and stay calm. When the last of the oxygenated liquid drained out after half an hour of waiting, Joonmyeon and the other scientists walked over to the comatose male android curled up in a ball at the bottom of his container. The fiberglass exterior lowered and a warm mist curled indolently over the indigo tiles, leaving a moist film behind as it dissipated. Joonmyeon approached first, crouching down and placing his hands on Chen’s shoulders. They felt so firm and warm under his palms; Joonmyeon almost couldn’t believe it. He wanted Chen to open his eyes. Did he give Chen an awakening command? He couldn’t remember in his excitement…

“I take it he responds to Korean, correct?” Byunhi lowered herself down to Joonmyeon’s eye level and glanced at him before turning to Chen. “Good evening, Chen. My name is Chi Byunhi. Are you awake? Can you hear me?”

Chen’s eyelids twitched; at least he could hear. Joonmyeon’s smile widened as Chen opened his eyes, the russet orbs catching the fleeting threads of rust-colored light from the sun. The color…was off. Chen stared directly into Joonmyeon’s eyes and, without stuttering or pausing, responded, “Hello. My name is Chen.”

Joonmyeon gripped his steering wheel and glared forward at the procession of idle cars on the elevated roadway. He and Chen were departing from the laboratory after a round of physical examinations and interviews. Byunhi asked Chen basic questions like his favorite foods, how he felt after waking up, and how he liked living with Joonmyeon. Byunhi’s reports were always consistent; “subject has no significant reactions to the inquiry.” That worried Joonmyeon.

Chen had been awake for two weeks. His intelligence and character developed at the initial projected pace. However, he didn’t talk willingly. Joonmyeon tried to have extended conversation with Chen, but the android simply wouldn’t answer verbally. He would smile, smirk, scowl, frown, laugh, etc. His social and emotional cues were purely nonverbal and that frustrated Joonmyeon. The brown irises that reminded Joonmyeon so much of his own scared him. Nobody would know Chen’s true origins beforehand. People didn’t take kindly to being tricked, especially by androids. Hell, there was a whole coalition against the manufacture of advanced artificial life forms. The legal organization was called PDALFM; People for the Discontinuation of Artificial Life Form Manufacture. The underground organization simply operated under the name Demo—presumably short for “Demolition.” Scientists like Joonmyeon and his team were on thin ice for their production of Chen. It didn’t help that the small android looked more human than his kin.

“Damn it; there’s too much traffic on this road. I should have known. It’s rush hour. You know what rush hour is, don’t you, Chen?” Chen smiled and nodded; human life wasn’t some difficult, complicated algorithm. Joonmyeon kept his schedule concise and constant so that Chen didn’t become confused. Little did he know that he made Chen too intelligent for the android’s own good. Chen often got bored but lacked the vocal abilities to display his boredom.

The sunset’s rust colored light once again spilled over the glass and mortar buildings of Apgujeong, the many windows glinting as they caught the sun and displayed its light in concentrated rays. Joonmyeon turned the engine off in his vehicle and undid his tie, allowing it to drape over his broad chest. He gauged Chen’s wide eyes and slightly parted pink lips with appraising eyes. Why wouldn’t he speak? That was the only frustrating part about Chen.

Sun…

Joonmyeon stared at Chen as the young android slowly turned towards him. A rust-colored halo of light illuminated Chen from behind, casting him in beautiful, sultry shadow. Chen slowly pointed out of the rolled down window and his lips quivered unsurely before he hung his head somewhat dejectedly. Joonmyeon leaned back in his seat and beamed fondly at Chen, playfully inquiring, “You like the sunset, don’t you, Chen?”

In that moment when Chen smiled and his eyes caught the fleeting sunset and twinkled, Joonmyeon felt like he had created a masterpiece. He had seen Chen smile many times, but never before had the curl of a pair of lips looked so glorious.

Joonmyeon didn’t notice traffic had continued to move without him until a few impatient drivers honked at him and his android in their idle car.

“Chen, it’s late. What are you doing?”

Joonmyeon stared at the mess in the android’s bedroom with bleary eyes. His baffled countenance eased into understanding once he saw what constituted the mess. Chen seemed to have canvased every food storage unit in the house in order to take a bite, , slurp, or sip of everything Joonmyeon owned. Mango slices, smoked eel, carrots, honey, ketchup, mustard, frozen chicken fingers, cold black, green, and white tea, pizza slices, white and brown rice, soy, oyster, and fish sauce, and cold cucumber soup all sat in neat rows on plates on the hardwood floor. On the bed with Chen seemed to be the things that he liked the most so far: a plate of celery, a bowl of chicken stock, a small portion of pork belly, some hot sauce, and bread with olive oil were on the pale blue sheets. The silver light from the moon flooded Chen’s form as he sat hunched over a container of green tea ice cream.

Joonmyeon looked around Chen’s room, ignoring the guilt stricken android for a moment. A dresser sat under an arched window that allowed the metallic silver light of the moon to wash out the interior of the dark room. The blue light from the power button of Chen’s computer monitor illuminated the surface of the small desk it was perched on, competing with the moonlight trying to inundate that corner of the room. Chen’s closet was to the right of the desk and his small bed was against the wall right next to it. There were a few things on Chen’s desk; Joonmyeon deduced that these were the food items that Chen didn’t like. Pickled ginger, raw onions, cilantro, and chocolate cake stood in a shameful single file display in front of the computer monitor. Joonmyeon maneuvered around the platters of uneaten foods and took a seat on the bare patch of rosewood beside Chen’s bed.

“So…is this all the food I own, Chen?” The android nodded hesitantly. Joonmyeon laughed. “What do you want next? Something spicy?” Chen shook his head. “Sour?” Chen shook his head. Joonmyeon pretended to act puzzled before he grabbed a plate with two chocolate chip cookies on it. “How about something sweet?”

Joonmyeon marveled over Chen’s innocence as the android bowed his head and took the extended platter of pastries, foregoing his frozen green tea treat in favor of the small doughy discs. Despite how advanced Chen really was, he didn’t know how to use his intelligence. He couldn’t utilize half of the things that Joonmyeon put inside of his limitless mind. Chen had a fully functioning flavor profile and knew what half of the foods were that he was biting into. However, he had no way of knowing that he was supposed to use his highly advanced flavor profile with food, or vice versa. It was a truly humbling moment for Joonmyeon as he watched Chen nibble the edge of the cookie. The android’s eyes widened, the silver of the moon comingling with the warm brown irises that glinted with joy at Chen’s new sweet discovery. Chen put the nibbled on cookie back on the platter and took up the uneaten cookie, holding it up to Joonmyeon’s mouth. He urged the scientist to take a nibble out of the cookie by enticingly rubbing the warm treat against Joonmyeon’s pursed lips.

Aah…

Joonmyeon didn’t know whether it was seeing the silver weaving with the brown in Chen’s eyes or hearing the small sound come out of Chen’s mouth, but he took a seat next to the android on the bed and took a large bite out of the second cookie. The look of pure delight on Chen’s face couldn’t be replicated even by the best scientists.

Together, android and creator continued to sample different foods. They ate until golden rays of sun heralded the early morning and the next round of studies at the lab.

After three months of interviews, physicals, and aptitude tests, Kyungsoo and Baekhyun recommended Chen and Joonmyeon as the ambassadors of EXO’s Korean division. Chen’s advanced programming and development was indisputable. Joonmyeon felt proud of his creation, but the lack of verbal communication from him still had all of the scientists in EXO baffled…and skeptical.

In the fourth month of Chen’s exams, Kyungsoo and Baekhyun recommended bringing their androids along with a few others from surrounding areas in Seoul to try and communicate with Chen. Joonmyeon acquiesced and a week later, Baekhyun brought the android Chanyeol and Kyungsoo brought the android Sehun to the main laboratory in Gangnam. They also contacted the scientist Sara Jung—the descendant of Stephanie Jung—and her android Tiffany who operated at the American branch of EXO. Lee Jinki and the sibling androids Kai and Taemin also offered their services. Chen’s silence seemed to pique the curiosity of the other androids. They were more than eager to speak to Chen, even if he didn’t reply.

Joonmyeon, Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, Lee Jinki, and their respective androids stood with bated breath at gate 18A at Incheon International Airport. Skye and Tiffany were flying in from the United States and they wanted a welcome party of sorts; they wanted to meet Chen right from the jump. Chanyeol, Kai, and Taemin spoke amicably with one another. Only Chen and Sehun didn’t speak. Sehun’s linguistic banks weren’t fully developed, so he couldn’t easily communicate with Chen without lisping. Joonmyeon watched Chen glance at Sehun and then turn away when the gunmetal gray eyes threatened to meet with his warm brown ones. After standing next to the android proved to be too much for Chen, he walked over to the scientists and stood dutifully at Joonmyeon’s side. The other androids tried to interact with Chen, but they only got wisps of a smile and a glimpse of pearly white teeth in response. It was almost as if Chen was afraid of the other humanoid machines.

When the aircraft landed, Sara and Tiffany were one of the first ones to step into the airport. Sara ran up to Joonmyeon and embraced him while Tiffany greeted Chen with a bow. Joonmyeon and Sara watched their two androids interact as the large group exited the airport. Tiffany commented on the unusual color of Chen’s eyes. Chen raised an eyebrow and scrutinized Tiffany from head to toe before reconvening with Joonmyeon and the other scientists. Chen didn’t make his discomfort around the other androids a secret. It was almost as if Chen thought he was one of the scientists rather than one of the androids. Was it their eye color that disturbed him? Or was it the fact that they seemed so fascinated with something they should have been familiar with already? Did Chen think he was a human being?

The androids and the scientists broke into two separate groups and crowded into black Crown Royal Saloon vehicles courtesy of Joonmyeon’s family. Chanyeol and Taemin had a short argument over who would drive the car back to the laboratory with the latter eventually climbing into the front seat. Joonmyeon waited until Chen buckled himself into the back seat of the android’s car before securing himself in the passenger seat of the scientist’s car. Jinki waited until the interior of the android’s car came up on the dashboard display before pulling out of the airport’s car loop.

Joonmyeon didn’t know that Jinki constantly had to speak to Taemin because the young android got nervous while driving. Through the dashboard display in the android car, Joonmyeon could see Chanyeol sulking in the passenger seat. Chen looked like he was trying to press himself into the car door while Tiffany tried to speak to him. Sehun stayed quiet. His speech impediment didn’t serve much purpose in a car filled with androids who spoke in flawless Korean. Chen had no desire to talk to his fellow androids. Joonmyeon looked out of the window to his right and stared at the blazing glass buildings as the reflective material caught the gold of the sun and twinkled gaily.

“Your eyes are very pretty, Chen,” Joonmyeon heard Tiffany gush. He didn’t have to look at the screen to know that Chen smiled politely and then resumed trying to fuse with the car door. “You look every bit like a human being, but you’re just a rust bucket like us, aren’t you?”

Joonmyeon stared at the dashboard display and noticed that Chen’s eyes had widened. He looked affronted, as if Tiffany had smacked him in the face. He frowned and looked out of the window at his right, completely ignoring the female android for the rest of the ride back to EXO laboratories.

Joonmyeon stared through the one-way window as Chen sat with an android from China; a relatively new model named Lu Han. Joonmyeon figured it was for the best; Chen couldn’t relate to the silly and somewhat outdated Chanyeol and didn’t really want to intrude on Kai and Taemin’s interactions. He refused to see Tiffany and him and Sehun never had a productive conversation. Joonmyeon tried getting Chen to interact with other androids male and female, but he really only reacted to Lu Han. Joonmyeon had run into Wu Yifan—Lu Han’s creator—at a convention around a month after Skye and Tiffany returned to America after their three-week stay. According to Lu Han, Chen could speak—and very well at that. Lu Han reported after his first sit-in together with Chen that the android preferred talking about humans and what he watched on television and read on the miniature data display that Joonmyeon used to gather his news. He asked many questions about PDALFM and Demo, usually commenting on the horrible treatment androids received…almost as if he weren’t one himself.

Now Joonmyeon dabbed at his forehead with a cool napkin while presiding over Lu Han and Chen’s seventh or eighth sit-in. Yifan started to bring Lu Han to EXO’s laboratory every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. The contact seemed to do wonders for Chen. The room they sat in was stark white with only two deep green ferns in white terracotta pots breaking the sterile appearance. A glass door leading out to a bare patio let silver light into the room, the clouds outside stifling the true color of the sun. Lu Han and Chen sat next to each other on one of two long couches situated in front of a glass coffee table. This also had a potted plant on it; a single white rose, as a matter of fact. The two talked over a plate of grilled chicken fingers with satay sauce and chives and large mugs of iced green tea. Lu Han had apparently done his own hair, coiffing the blonde tresses over his forehead to give him a delightfully boyish appearance. Yifan leaned against the glass window and looked over his shoulder into the interior of the room.

“Are you sure you don’t want to put Byunhi in there? She might help facilitate conversation,” Yifan crooned while withdrawing a nail file from his pocket.

“Byunhi doesn’t get me any results,” Joonmyeon snaps, “And Chen doesn’t care for her much. She has a habit of being too professional; too detached.”

“Alright, buddy. Don’t bite my head off for asking. Let’s listen in.”

Without glancing to his right, Yifan pressed a small red button on an intercom system and listened to the conversation the two androids were having.

“So, your creator doesn’t know that you can talk?”

“…rather, if I talk, he won’t understand me,” Chen fluidly replied to his fellow android. Joonmyeon couldn’t believe his ears. Chen could talk!...just not to him. A sudden pang made Joonmyeon’s heart ache; it was so potent that it took his breath away. With a curious tilt of his head to the right, Lu Han goaded Chen on with curious twinkling eyes. “What I mean to say is I don’t believe Lab Coat has a firm comprehension of my feelings.” Joonmyeon’s heart thudded against his ribs deliberately, painfully. Did Chen really refer to him as…Lab Coat?

“Your feelings about what, Chen?”

Chen went silent, pursing his lips into a thin line. “Well,” he slowly drawled, “I’ve been reading about PDALFM and Demo, those two organizations that are against the manufacture of androids.”

“And? Do you feel like you’re in danger? I’m sure Joonmyeon would understand that!”

“No, he wouldn’t, and I believe that’s the problem,” came Chen’s cryptic response. “Before I continue, I need to be assured that you won’t place me under harsh criticism for this.”

“Of course not. Trust me.” How could Chen talk so freely to Lu Han? Joonmyeon paled; he was always right there for Chen. Whenever the android needed him, Joonmyeon was there. The scientist would give up anything to make Chen feel comfortable and safe. So…why?

Joonmyeon felt like he was going to faint. Or die. Or some grotesque combination of both.

“I don’t feel like I’m an android, Lu Han. Lab Coat has given me an astonishing mental capacity all while neglecting to give me the conscious knowledge that I was created. I know that I was, but I don’t feel like I was. I feel every bit as human as Lab Coat and his colleagues do. I eat like him, I drink like him, I talk like him, and I walk like him. The only thing that I lack that he possesses is the need to sleep and breathe.” Chen paused, picked up a chicken finger, and bit into it without the accompanying sauce. After swallowing, Chen continued, “I feel so human…and yet I cannot be human. Lab Coat wouldn’t understand that even if I told him that a million times.”

“Why do you call your creator Lab Coat? You know his name, don’t you?”

“Is this a conversation or an interrogation?” Chen asked good-naturedly.

“A little bit of both, to be completely honest with you,” Lu Han rubs the back of his neck. “You didn’t answer me yet. Why do you call Joonmyeon Lab Coat?”

“I just can’t call him my creator because I don’t feel like he created me. I feel like he helped me wake up. He’s nothing but…a Lab Coat to me.”

“Are you alright?” Yifan asked the pallid Joonmyeon. The wan scientist concealed his dry heave with an unconvincing cough, wiping the sweat from his forehead away with the back of his hand.

“I used to feel that way about Yifan, so I understand. But these humans, despite their idiosyncrasies, are our creators. They made us who we are, Chen. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them.”

“And why should they be able to play god with us?! We’re living just like they are!” Joonmyeon’s field of vision grew misty with unshed tears. “I don’t want to feel this way, but I do! I don’t want to be seen as some pinnacle of creation! I don’t want to be something that Lab Coat can just brag about! I want to be alive!”

“But hasn’t your creator been doing a good job of making you feel human? You’ve told me he takes you for car rides, cooks for you, plays video games with you…he even sat and read with you when you noticed you don’t need to sleep; you told me all of this. You’re lucky; Yifan never did anything like that for me. Joonmyeon treats you like a human being; count your blessings, Chen.”

“Does he treat me like a human, Lu Han? Or does he treat me like the test subject he has to coddle until it understands that it has to succeed or be scrapped? He hates me because I can’t talk! He talks down to me like I’m some idiotic tool like a can opener or a faulty toaster! And on the subject of blessings, I’ve counted them already, Lu Han. And if those are what you call blessings, I wish I never had them.”

That was it. Those were the final nails in Joonmyeon’s coffin. His heart couldn’t find any motivation to continue beating. His mouth became arid and his legs fell out from underneath him.

Black quickly consumed the white.