Nightshift 29: Disciplinary Therapy Room 2 [M-U for Luke fon Fabre]
By no means was replication something original. Cloning had been a theory well thought, repetitively tested as science took leaps and bounds towards the future. Every mistake there came more knowledge, and with that knowledge the fuel to create more. But the idea of replicating a human being was something that teetered on the edge of being morally unsanitary.
When one went about their work so haphazardly, ‘flaws’ were bound to show.
But there were no flaws in this one. He was a perfect creation by all standards, from every flake of skin to every strand of hair. Perfection was a word hardly used in the scientific field, as there was no such thing as ‘absolute’. Scientists, researchers and doctors alike all thrived on the aspect that there was always more to something: some equation never thought of, some solution never dreamed of; it was a never-ending ordeal.
But that was why he brought him here, right? This little specimen was ideal; a test to see if everything came to be the right match.
And if this didn’t work… well, he could always see how the Original ticked instead.
"Luke..." The doctor murmured in an almost dream-like voice, unstrapping the bonds for a moment, only to tighten them in an attempt to suffocate his patient awake.