You’re the chosen one, Harry.

"Hello Brother."

My eyes snapped open and I bolted upright instantly. The transition from unconscious to conscious was immediate. No grogginess, no gentle surfacing through layers of sleep. Just a stark transition from oblivion to sterile white walls.

The chipped mug by the bed, the lopsided sun on the get-well-soon card, the steady beep—God, the beep—the monotonous rhythm that usually drove me mad now felt like a lifeline.

The faint antiseptic sting of the air, the muted hum of distant machines—familiarity flooded in like a wave crashing over me, like a cocoon wrapping around the panic that had briefly seized my chest.

The muscles in my back began to relax. My heartbeat slowing as the fight-or-flight instinct drained from my limbs.

I knew this place. I was in the hospital.

St Augustine's hospital.

Oh thank God!

That was a dream. 

I had never been so relieved to be awake in my life. What a ridiculous dream. 

Seriously, kryptonian clone? Young Justice? My brain had dredged up some wild scenarios in the past, but this? This was another level. I let out a shaky, humorless chuckle, the sound too loud in the otherwise quiet room. The tumor in my brain must really be messing with me now

I sank back into the pillow, the cool fabric cradling the back of my neck, and exhaled. A long, deep breath that tasted of reprieve.

"Brother"

My head whipped forward, the movement threatening to fling me from the bed. With only my grip on the bed frame keeping me steady.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress was a tall, slender figure with blue skin staring despondently at me with pitch black eyes. The figure's head was horned with pointed, fin-like ears, and two ribbons of flesh snaked down its cheeks.

What the utter fuck.

Dubbilex.

This was Dubbilex from Young Justice.

"No. No. No. No No fucking way." My hand slipped from the bed frame, and the unforgiving floor stopped my fall. My mind was reeling, spinning in a thousand directions at once, each one screaming the same thing.

This couldn't be real.

It couldn't.

"No need to be frightened." In a voice, all too calm, all too composed.

"This—this isn't real." I rasped, breaking on the words. "This cannot be real." Denial clung to me like a cheap suit.

"No, it is not real. Not in the way you think."

I stared at him, uncomprehending.

"You and I are in your mindscape," Dubbilex continued, his gaze sweeping the room. "Though why it has taken this form, I do not know. This hospital… I do not recognize it."

"My mindscape? I echoed. 

"Indeed." he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "We are in your mind."

I felt a bitter laugh bubble up, but it got stuck in my throat. "Mindscape? This decrepit hospital? Nah. None of this is making any sense." 

This has to be some kind of delusion. I've lost it. The tumor's making me hallucinate. That's the only explanation for why I'm imagining something so absurd.

Dubbilex's eyes softened, though his expression remained neutral. "Do not mistake my presence, brother. I assure you, I am very much real."

I recoiled, my head shaking vigorously. "Why do you keep calling me that? I am not your brother!"

"But you are," he insisted, unperturbed. "You and I are both genetically engineered lifeforms created by Cadmus. Genomorphs, in essence."

He was still insistent. I mean if this was some kind of cruel prank or some new high, it had to have ended a while ago. Not continuing to take me on this rigmarole. Even after waking up. 

Could it be-My breath hitched. 

Genomorph. 

This was real?

The word sent a shiver down my spine. "So... it's true? The clone? Everything?"

"Indeed," it said. "Everything is real. After your…unorthodox awakening, the doctor deemed it necessary to keep you sedated and shielded from sunlight. We are 52 levels deep"

"Sedated? For how long?"

"It has been two weeks now."

"Jesus!"

Dubblilex tilted his head again. "Indeed. Jesus."

A bitter laugh clawed its way out of me, half-crazed and hysterical. "Why have I been kept under?" Words I never thought I'd be uttering in my life.

"Your awakening was…rather disruptive. Unusual, as you were not expected to have much of a personality. Your pre-programmed personality offered only rudimentary language skills. Not enough to have reasons to feel anger…to feel rage."

"What does that mean?" I asked, though I already had a sinking feeling in my gut.

"It means," he said, voice dropping to a low hum, "they are curious. I believe they intend to study you further. Currently, you are being weaned off the solar energy in your cells.

"They?" I whispered, the word catching in my throat like a shard of glass. That word sounded remarkably like the boogeyman right now.

"Our creators." Dubbilex said. "Cadmus."

I felt the world tilt again. Cadmus. Creators. Clone. I pressed my palms against the cold floor, trying to steady myself. This shit was really real—this nightmare—it was all real. This wasn't some bad trip.

I had been fucking self-inserted into Match.

From Young Justice.

My voice was hollow when I finally spoke. "Why are you here? Why are you in my head?"

His features gave him an unreadable expression. "To help you understand," he said softly. "To help you see the truth."

"What truth?"

"That you are the one. The one who will determine our future—the future of genomorph kind."

"No," I whispered, shaking my head as I pressed my palms harder against the floor, trying to anchor myself in this sea of madness. "No! Don't start with that bullshit. No! I'm nobody—I'm just a guy. I am not...clone savior or whatever the hell you're talking about."

"Please brother. I only beg that you listen."

Somehow his voice got even softer.

"The Genomorphs... my kind, your kind... we were not made for freedom. In our very make, we were designed for obedience, for labor, for servitude," he began quietly. 

"Gene coded, I believe it is called."

"The scientists here at Cadmus see us as tools, nothing more. And all my life, I've always thought that they were right to. It was only right. We are grown, and discarded when no longer useful. The things we've had —"

His voice cracked, the first sign of real emotion I'd seen from him.

"The things we've had to go through. Horrors that would make any living shudder, brother."

"So how is it fair that we are the ones subjected to these horrors?"

I swallowed hard, the bile rising in my throat. I didn't want to hear this.

"We are treated like animals. Not even deigned to offer us names, only numbers. Trained to follow orders, to serve without question and those who do not perform well are recycled. That's their word for it," Dubbilex explained bitterly. "Recycled. It means terminated, dismantled. Sometimes they harvest the useful parts. Other times, they are destroyed entirely. Some of us... some of us are born with defects or mutations they didn't plan for, and we are cast aside, locked away, or worse... used in experiments."

My mouth went dry. "Experiments?"

"Most... to test our limits. To find new ways to better us. For the creation of next gen genomorph." Dubbilex said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "To make us better, they have to make us worse. Sometimes, they try to see how much a Genomorph can endure before it breaks. Needles, chemicals, electric shocks—whatever they need to gather their data. And when one of us fails the test, we are disposed of like broken equipment."

I stared at him, unable to speak. Every word sank into me like a heavy stone, pulling me deeper into the truth that this was reality—my reality now. And if what Dubbilex said was true, it wasn't just me in danger. There was a whole bigger picture here.

"And you—" my voice trembled, but I forced the words out. "You were part of this? You've seen it all?"

"I have lived it," he replied. "My name is Dubbilex (XX). The twentieth of the G-Goblin series. Every part of me was once a part of the one before me. I was made to be the smartest. Smart enough to follow others and smart enough to lead others into following others."

"I was not supposed to…feel for my kind but I do. I was not supposed to think for myself... but I do. And now, I see, brother, that we cannot continue to live like this. We cannot continue to be slaves to Cadmus!"

Silence

My mind spun with the weight of everything he'd just told me. My heart pounded in my chest as the horrifying image of what was going on here was painted.

It was sickening.

It was monstrous.

And I was part of it.

"You are scared and you are right to be. But understand this, you are more than we could have ever been. You're more than us. You're more than them.

"You are the clone of a great hero and in you, as well, is greatness

Dubbilex's expression darkened. "That is the greatness they seek. To use you as a weapon. But you have something they did not anticipate. You have free will, brother. And that makes you dangerous. Very. Very dangerous.

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me like a suffocating blanket. Free will. Dangerous. I didn't feel dangerous. I felt terrified. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to be shoved off into an abyss I couldn't see the bottom of.

"Because it gives you the right to decide by yourself; whether to be a slave or to be free."

"What do you ask of me?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Dubbilex's gaze softened. "I ask only that you help us escape. That you lead us to freedom."

"Escape?" I asked, my mind struggling to comprehend the enormity of what he was suggesting. "Buddy, I hardly know how to do anything right now."

"I have a plan. One that must be followed carefully if we are to succeed. But understand, brother, this facility is no ordinary prison. Any attempt to try an escape on your own will result in failure, you are welcome to try. The countermeasures Cadmus has put in place are be more than enough to stop you."

His voice was steady, unwavering. There was no malice, no threat—only a certainty that chilled me to the bone. I wasn't going anywhere unless he helped me.

"What do we do?" I asked, my heart hammering in my chest.

"You continue as you have been," Dubbilex said, his dark eyes studying me carefully. "They suspect you are unstable, driven mad by unexplainable rage. They do not need to know the truth."

"And what truth is that?" I asked.

"That you are perfectly sane. That you are more aware than they could ever understand. But for now, you must confirm their suspicions."

Dubbilex leaned closer, his expression grim. "Every time they awaken you, you must continue to act unstable. Show them what they expect to see. Rage. Confusion. Fear. They must believe you are too dangerous to release from sedation."

"Why?" The word escaped before I could stop it.

"So that they'll continue to keep you under," Dubbilex said, his voice low but firm.

"What?!" The shock in my voice was palpable. "You want me to stay sedated?"

Dubbilex's voice dropped to a pleading whisper. "It's the only way. If they believe you're too unstable, they'll keep you contained, shielded from direct sunlight. They're afraid of what you'll become once you're fully charged. That buys us time, brother—time to plan, time to act."

My chest tightened with a mix of confusion and dread. "But why keep me weak? If I'm supposed to lead this escape, shouldn't I—shouldn't I be at full strength?"

Dubbilex's gaze was piercing, unyielding. "You will be, when the time is right. But right now, your strength is what makes you a threat to them. If they even suspect that you're becoming too powerful, they'll find a way to neutralize you permanently. You must lull them into a false sense of security. Make them think they've already won."

A lump formed in my throat as I stared at him, the weight of his words crashing down on me like a tidal wave. "And what happens when they decide I'm too much of a threat even sedated? What if they just... recycle me like the others?"

For the first time, Dubbilex's expression softened, a flicker of sympathy crossing his sharp features. "That's why we must act soon. Before they make that decision. I promise you, brother, I will not let that happen. But you must trust me."

Trust? Could I really trust him? Could I trust any of this? The idea of escaping this hellhole was tempting—almost intoxicating—but the risks... they were monumental.

Yet, as I looked into Dubbilex's eyes, I saw something I hadn't expected to find in this nightmare—a glimmer of hope.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely a whisper. "Alright. I'll do it. I'll play along. But if you're wrong about this..."

Dubbilex's expression cracked open, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to something raw—something desperate. His gaze locked onto mine with a vulnerability that left me momentarily speechless.

Without warning, he sank to his knees before me. "The humans call this bowing," he said quietly, his voice trembling with unspoken weight. "It is their deepest gesture of submission, reserved for requests that have no price."

He bowed his head, a sharp intake of breath cutting the silence. "My very will to live rests on the success of our escape. Help me, brother. Help me save the genomorph race."

Well, when someone begs like that, what could you do but say yes?