Processing. That’s what they called this, after dragging them out from the van and into the bleak docking bays they were taken into a large sterile room, passed from the care of their initial captors, and into the care of the workers at the facility…wherever that was. Their clothes cut from their bodies, the staff uncaring as the cold metal came too close to their skin, leaving small cuts in there wake-and given hospital gowns instead, the handcuffs re-administered once they had dressed. Yifan wasn’t an idiot, while the one giving the orders didn’t have a weapon; he hadn’t missed the armed guards standing by the doors. Their minds were numb, still trying to make sense of everything as it happened, their questions ignored, as if they had never spoken at all. Once that was done their pictures had been taken by another worker and they were sent off to a holding cell.

The holding cells were in the basement, a long dimly lit hallway with solid metal doors on either side. With the swipe of a card and the press of a button, the door slid open and they were shoved inside, hands still cuffed behind their backs, the swooshing of the door closing ringing in their ears. The silence stretched on like years between them as they sat down on the cold tiled floor, a single dim light the only tool for navigation, though there wasn’t much to navigate at all. No beds, no windows to provide an idea of where they truly were, just a small toilet and sink in their 6 by 6 foot room. “Where do you think we are?” Yifan forced out, shivering as the cold of the walls seeped through his flimsy gown. It was a stupid question, he knew that, but the silence was getting to be too much.

“I don’t know…” Yixing trembled.

“Are they-could they be with immigration?” he swallowed. If they were…perhaps they could prove this was a mistake? Surely, someone would see their I.D’s as they went through their clothes. Someone was bound to report this. It was all just a mistake.

Yixing shook his head. “I don’t know. I-I don’t think so…”he sniffled as a small sob spilled past his lips. “I don’t know I didn’t see…did you?” he whimpered.

“No…there…I don’t think there was anything written on their van.” It all happened so fast, even thinking back on it, wracking his brain for the memories, was yielding nothing. “They have to come back at some point, we’ll explain it. This has to be a mistake.”

“I hope you’re right.” Yixing whispered at length as a heavy silence fell between them once more, each getting lost in their own thoughts; they had nothing to say to one another.

There was no warning; they heard no footsteps, just the sudden whooshing of the door as it slid back open, three figures hanging in the doorway. “That one.” The middle figure ordered, an older man with thinning hair in a business suit, pointing a finger at Yifan.

He froze, stiffening as the two guards stepped inside, their gloved hands gripping his biceps harshly as they pulled him to his feet and dragged him out, the door slamming shut again behind him.

“Wait. Wait, where—“he cut off with a chocked stifled noise as a rag was shoved unceremoniously into his mouth as he was pulled further down the hall. No words were passed between the guards and the official looking man leading them. A cold sweat broke over him as his heart hammered in his chest, trying to get an idea of where he was-of where they were going as he was pulled through a myriad of halls, pausing briefly outside of sleek metal doors.

An id badge was flashed over the scanner, a code typed in before the doors opened. He tested the bonds; nothing gave, if anything it grew worse. Hissing through the gag as the guards fingers tightened, boring into flesh. He was dragged out into another hall, doors lined on the right, but to the left was a glass wall. His eyes went wide in horror, halting as his eyes landed on several people laid out on stretchers, wires and metal contraptions hooked up to various points along their bodies, people in lab coats hovered around them scribbling away onto their clipboards and tinkering with various wires.

“Move!” one of the guards snarled as he gave Yifan a rough shove, pulling him further into the myriad of open halls. Pausing outside a pair of elevator doors as the one leading them took out another ID badge.

“Is this alright?” one of the guards asked.

“He’s expecting him.” The official quipped simply as he glanced at his watch before the doors opened up once more.

‘Floor?’ a computerized woman’s voice inquired from the speakers and Yifan could see the buttons splayed out for selection ranging from several Basement levels, all the way to floor 49.

“Presidential suite”. The official stated.

‘Please insert passcode and verify your identity.’ The woman spoke again as two small compartments opened up,  key pad was pushed out on one and a few feet above it, a glass scanner the man bent down to meet at eye level for a retinal scan.

 ‘Identity confirmed. Passcode accepted. Please wait.’ So saying, the elevator gave a small lurch upwards. Yifan watched as the numbers ticked by, but instead of stopping at the highest listed floor, the elevator continued upwards a few seconds longer before stilling. The walk from the elevator into the lavish office seemed to happen in the blink of an eye, sleek mahogany doors clicking shut softly behind them, but the sound still resonated within Yifan’s ears.

“Lovely night isn’t it?” an older man mused, his back towards them as he looked out onto the city skyline, slowly turning to face them, sniffing lightly as his gaze raked over them, honing in on Yifan. “Remove his gag. It’s not necessary.” He quipped as he moved to his desk, taking hold of Yifan’s visa and passport.

Yifan swallowed mouth dry, his tongue feeling like sand paper as he tried to formulate words, but the other man beat him to it. “Says here you’re from KI-19. Small Dome that one. Nasty place.” He tsked. “Nothing, but tumbleweeds and a faulty filtration system…still, it never ceases to amaze me what such horrid places can produce.” He crooned.

“Is…what…what is this about?” Yifan rasped, eyes wide. “Papers?”

At this the older man laughed. “Oh no, those are in order.”

“Then…why? You…you’re not immigration?” he asked, heart pounding madly in his chest, blood running like ice through his veins.

“Not in the way you mean it…tell me..Yifan.” he trailed, “What do you know of Mimprogenics?” He inquired, tailored shoes clacking over the polished floor as he moved from the broad window to stand before Yifan.

“Mim—“ he stopped, he could recall the ads, the commercials, the billboards all talking about the latest model of humanoid “companions”, he’d even walked right by one of the shops. “It’s…what does that have to do with this? Why, if you aren’t immigration.” He rushed.

“So stupid.” The man tsked. “That’ll have to be upgraded.”

“Upgrade?” Yifan mouthed, unable to properly vocalize the word before his gaze snapped to the side as a thin blue holopad caught his eye.  The man who’d escorted them up to the office prepared to take notes.

“Oh God no…those…those are-they were made.”

“Naturally, all things are made.” He replied, extending a hand out to catch a strand of Yifan’s hair as he jerked back, the hands gripping him only tightened. “Make him blonde…and he’s in need of a cut and style.”

“This cant…it can’t…all those people.” He stammered, his chest constricting, he couldn’t breathe as he felt like ice water had been thrown upon him. “Why?” he forced out.

“Why not?” Came the man’s cool reply. “Immigrants just keep on coming; we can’t keep up with it, so we found a different solution. Really, you’re one of the lucky ones. You should be thanking me; after all, you’ll get a job from this.” He laughed, but Yifan saw no humor in it. “Who is on staff tonight?” The man demanded.

There was too much to process with this, the voices around him sounding distorted as he swayed upon his feet, watching as the man dismissed them with a flick of his wrist, and then he was being dragged-pulled away. “Don’t do this!” he screeched, it was the only thing he knew: fear. He fought against the hands that held him. Heels digging into the ground in desperation as his heart beat wildly. If he could just make him listen! "Please, please let me go! I'll leave the city--I'll go back, don't do this!" he implored as hands tightened around him, forcing him back.

The old man smiled as he strode forward, and for a time the guards holding him paused their actions as a hand reached out to cup his face, smile turning to a grin as he whimpered, tilting his head up to look directly into his eyes. "Now why would I do that, when you've already ceased to exist here? I promised someone something special...and I think," he drawled, thumb along his cheek gently, "I've finally found the perfect fit to his specifications." he purred as he brought his gaze to the guards holding him. "Put him in the system and start the process tonight. I want to be kept informed of his progress throughout." the man barked.

"Yes sir." the guards spoke as one, dragging him away.

Terror clutched his heart, it was hard to breath, his chest squeezing in pain. "Don’t do this! Please! Please!" he shrieked as he was pulled out of the lavish office. The double doors swinging shut on him and separating him from the only one who could do anything anymore.

Breaking. That’s what they called it as they forced him down onto a cold operating table and strapped him in; behind him a large machine was slowly coming to life. They’d already finished processing him…the barcode tattooed on the back of his neck and the insertion of a small computer chip under the flesh the final touch before he had been forced to watch all of the records of his existence vanish before his eyes. Courtesy of the senior administrator.

He gave a small cry as gloved fingers trailed up his legs, a masked face hovering over his own as those fingers stopped at his knee caps. “Beautiful…such a lovely look, eyes truly are the window to the soul…We’ll start with the ankles…then the knee caps.” he murmured, trailing off. “Computer, status report.” He barked.

‘All systems operational.’ A computerized male voice boomed

“Good. Prepare the anesthesia.” He ordered as a green holopad screen lit up as a scanner ran over his body, a digital rendition reflected back on the holopad giving his size, weight, heart rate…everything. “Now then…” the doctor purred as pried the tape sealing his mouth shut away in a harsh tug, chuckling at his yelp, “don’t fight, and please start counting back from 10.” He ordered as a metal arm extended out from over him.

He screamed, trying to pull free. The doctor laughed as more arms extended from the machine behind him, holding him down, bracketing his head, twining in his hair to allow the clear masked arm to properly land.

What was his name? He had one….he was sure of it…who was it in the cell beside him? He was familiar too….he cried a lot…How long had he been here? He couldn’t remember.

All the technicians said he was their best yet. He felt proud about that, but he wasn’t complete, not yet. He had one more tuning process. Then he’d be complete. All the technicians who made him said so.

“Yif…Yi—oh god I can’t...” the young man…doll, sobbed crawling upon the floor. He was dirty. He didn’t want that doll to touch him. He was clean, not covered in filth like the one beside him, legs dragged uselessly behind him as he pulled himself across the floor, still in the breaking process.

He didn’t jerk away as the doll’s hands grasped at his leg through the bars; fingers stained red digging into his skin as he went limp. Dissolving into tears, sobs so strong they shook his body.

“Is that my name? Yi? O-or is it yours?” he asked in shaky breaths. “I don’t know!” he wailed. “I can’t…I can’t remember…what’s my name? Do you know?”

His eyes flickered to the base of the doll’s neck and he reached a hand out to brush aside the tangled mess of hair. “14j” he read. Though that wasn’t really a name, just their ID. He had one too: K|Z15.

“I…that isn’t it…I…there are people...in my mind…they’re old, but I can’t remember their names…” the doll struggled. “I came from somewhere…I can't remember their faces...”

He just shrugged. He didn’t know how to help such a malfunctioning creation. Options were listed out before him, but he dismissed them all in turn. In the end his system deemed it best to keep silent. His attention diverted as he heard the door to his cell swish open.

“K|Z15,” his technician called, and he rose onto his feet before his creator; the fingers that had been holding him falling limply away leaving a warm red smear upon his casing, “time to go.” He ordered briskly, and he followed him easily. Glad of the silence that descend over the halls as the door closed once more, though he couldn’t help but glance back.  Even as he arrived at the testing grounds, sitting in the instructed chair, thoughts of the malfunctioning one still lingered.

“What is it K|Z15?” His technician inquired.

“That one…what’s wrong with him?”

“He is broken. Don’t worry, we’re fixing him…now then, are you prepared? You only need a ffinal tune up before you’re complete.” He beamed.

“Am I going to be sent to a company?” he didn’t want to be shut inside one of those sleek large compartments and put into hibernation.

“Oh no, the founder wants you specifically. Now then: Name?”

“I don’t understand the purpose.” It was always the same, he was never sure he was answering right. “I don’t have one. “ He had an ID….but an ID wasn’t the same as a name.

“How old are you?”

“I’m not sure I can answer that.”

“When were you brought online?”

“One week ago.”

Again the technician scribbled away at their notepad. “How is he doing?” a new voice interjected.

“Pappa.” He chirped, a smile spreading over his lips. Recognizing the founder of them all. It was something hardwired into every doll along with the history of Pappa’s company.

“Breaking was successful as was the erase and reconstruction process. All information you wanted has been input into him along with all requested skills befitting a modeling unit. He has a final scan set up and so long as everything checks out, he’s ready to go.”

“Excellent. I knew I could count on all of you.”

He stayed silent, knowing better than to speak in front of his creators, obeying the technicians instructions as he stood before a large machine, unflinching as metal brackets came out to support him, wires extending to support him as a pronged arm extended out from behind him to insert itself into a small port just under his barcode at the base of his neck.

He let his eyes fall shut as images were pulled to the forefront of his mind like a tape on fast forward before abruptly ending. ‘Memory scan complete. The male voice droned. All systems functional. No anomalies detected.’

With a small hiss the wires retracted and the metal brackets pulled back, allowing him to stand on his own as he looked back at Pappa for instructions. “Perfect…get him scheduled for a cut and style, I’ll trust your judgment to find suitable clothes for him...then have him escorted to my office.”

“Is Pappa taking me home?” he asked, head cocking to the side. He would love to serve his creator, it was an honor he was sure no other doll would be presented with so easily.

Pappa chuckled, smiling as he shook his head. “No, but you may perhaps be serving under someone very dear to me. You should be honored.” He mused.

“I am.” He blurted, and he meant it.

a/n: Chanyeol returns next chapter and we get to meet more dolls! So sorry everyone, this took forever. I hope you like it though. Let me know what you think and feel free to give constructive criticism! Everything helps!