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Awaken, his brothers tell him. Before he even opens his eyes he can hear three new sets of heartbeats near: a slow thud too loud to be human, a fluttering heart beating double time, and a human heartbeat slowly beating faster.
Attack, his brothers tell him, and because they have never told him to do anything wrong before, he does. This is the first time his hands collide with the flesh of another, the first time his memories become experienced, instead of implanted.
“We’re on your side!”
But his programming says otherwise. Acrid burnt orange colors cloud his vision and he strikes without mercy. (After all, he does not know what mercy feels like.)
“We are trying to help you.”
He is the Superboy. He does not require help. He is a living weapon. Weapons do not require help. (So far as he knows. And he is starting to wonder, how much does he not know?)
Desmond tells him through his brothers to take the three people (who said “We are trying to help you”) to the cloning chamber. Collective genomorph memory guides him correctly, and after the three young heroes have been placed in their pods, he stands there, watching, trying to find why his memories do not understand.
“What do you want?” the yellow clad stranger yells at him.
He narrows his eyes. The pods muffle the sounds of their heartbeats, but he can still hear the heartbeat belonging to the yellow suited sidekick climbing higher.
“Quit staring, you’re creeping me out!” the yellow stranger yells again.
His brothers have given him memories of the Justice League, of Superman’s associates. He knows the symbols they wear proudly on their chests.
Robin, sidekick of Batman. Secret Identity: unknown. (Batman, friend and ally of Superman.)
KF: The lighting symbol of the Flash. Kid Flash.
Aquaman’s symbol is on the third stranger’s belt, but he does not know this one’s name.
“I do not believe our new friend was in full control of his actions.” The heartbeat of this someone remains calm and steady, too loud to be a human heartbeat.
Friend? He knows what this word means, but he does not understand. The memory implantations tell him friends share meaningful and pleasant experiences, and do not attack each other.
“What if I wasn’t?” he says.
Acrid orange and the taste of bitter ash coats his memories and his orders: “attack, awaken, obey.”
The same haze coats everything that he knows about himself.
“I am the Superboy, a genomorph, a clone made from the DNA of the Superman, created to replace him should he perish, to destroy him should he turn from the Light."
The genomorphs teach him the names of things. That is his name. He is the Superboy. And yet-
Superman’s known weaknesses: moral center, kryptonite
With mere words, the three of them slowly unravel everything Cadmus has taught him.
The final straw comes through the ever present haze of acidic tasting, burnt orange thinking.
“Ask yourself, what would Superman do?”
The answer is easy enough: Superman would save his friends.
Desmond was right to be afraid of him, be afraid of him thinking for himself now.
Metal easily crumbles under his bare Kryptonian hands. His brothers fall to his fury and strength. Desmond was right to call him a weapon.
Aqualad, Kid Flash, Robin, they call him something else. Superboy. Supes. (Nickname: a sign of affection and intimacy.) The memory implantations didn’t cover this.
They didn’t cover something else too. No heat vision. No flight. What else haven’t the gene-gnomes of Cadmus told him? But the voice in his head that says, turn right, brother, sounds less acidic than usual, and so he trusts his brothers, because even if they have left out important information, they still haven’t told him anything quite wrong.
He is their brother, Superboy, and he may not know everything, but he knows enough to choose freedom. No one will give him orders. Not again.
Of course, Desmond won’t let him go, not without a fight, but he is the Superboy. He can handle this. Yeah, sure, the building comes down, but he’s not alone, not anymore. He’s got friends to fight beside. The Justice League will come for him, and his friends. When the rubble clears, he’ll be fine. He knows who he is, and that’s enough, right?
“I’m Superman’s clone!” Superboy declares.
He doesn’t need extra senses to watch the uncomfortable expressions spread through the Justice League, or to see Superman slowly turning away. No need for superhearing to overhear the words of approval that Superman isn’t saying.
“We’ll figure out what to do with you. The League, I mean,” Superman says, then flies away.
And the whispering voices in Superboy’s head are Superboy’s own for once, asking, Shouldn’t Superman be proud? I was created to replace him, should he perish, and to destroy him, should he turn from the Light. Cadmus might have created me to be a weapon, but in the end, I chose to do what he would do.
Regular hearing serves him just fine, as Batman, Aquaman, and Flash serve angry words at his new friends. They don’t need to deal with this, and his friends know this too.
“Why let them tell us what to do?” Superboy says.
No orders. No. No.
He steps forward and continues, “It’s simple, get on board, or get out of the way.”
Aqualad has said that wishing to be like Superman was a worthy aspiration, and that’s what Superboy is going to do. The moon shines down on his first day (night) outside of his pod, and he thinks-
We have a lot of learning to do.