"Morning there, welcome to The Hexagone, please show me your ID and birth certificate so we can get the registration process going."

  The other day, Sung woke up in a huge white room. He had no memory of how he got here, one moment he tried to get some shut-eye, the other he woke up in this confusing room.

  The pearl white floor stretched indefinitely, or maybe they're walls. Was he even standing on anything? There weren't any shadows to tell. Everything's the same color, blindingly white with a tint of more white.

  Sung looked around, still groggy and disorientated. Truly, it was as if there were no up and down, directions felt pointless.

  Sung spun around a dozen times, yet everything remained the same no matter which angle he looked at it. Eerily, on his thirteenth spin, a white kiosk appeared out of nowhere. A humanoid sat behind the desk, beckoning him to go over there.

  "Hey sir! Get over here and start your registration procedure now, we don't have all day you know!" The humanoid said. He- uhm... She? Anywho, the person behind the desk looked very peculiar, they had neither male nor female characteristics. One could describe them as the very template of what a human looks like. They looked as if babies never developed primary sex characteristics in the womb.

  Their disembodied voice somehow echoed through the infinite space. Sung tried to walk forward, yet it felt as though for every step he stepped forward, the floor moved backwards, and his position never changed, no work done.

  They let out a sigh. With a snap of their fingers, Sung suddenly found himself right in front of the kiosk. Sung stumbled a bit, he frantically waved his arms to try and regain balance-

  But balance in relation to what? No matter how he bobbed and leaned, the kiosk was still in front of him. Directly, in front of him. He felt like he's losing balance, but nothing indicated that he wasn't standing comfortably on the ground already.

  All the while the humanoid continued to watch with slight amusement. It never gets old, how newcomers always get confused by this room. How did they themself adjust to this room? Eh, minor details.

  The humanoid passed a lengthy form to Sung. "When you finish falling over yourself, please pick up a pen and fill out this form." Sung eventually straightened himself, forked over his documents (who carries their birth certificate around? Sung thought, but then he found his in his trouser pocket - his trousers never had pockets) and took a look at the form.

  The form was deliberately as generic as possible, with no additional information as to what he's going to be participating in, where he is, et cetera. Most of the form's just asking for your basic information - your biological sex, your name, your nationality, the usual.

  At the end though were two checkboxes, first of which confirms that you accept their terms and conditions (There was a leather-covered book the size of an encyclopedia on the countertop of the kiosk. When Sung took a quick look at it, he found out that at least 99% of the book's blank. The book was made that way to intimidate people against reading it, Sung supposed that to be the case), the other was painfully straightforward, the facility made no effort in encapsulating it in something more palatable.

  "I understand that I will no longer exist as far as the government is concerned," it read in bold letters, "and that I will no longer be applicable to any human rights."

  "What if I don't check this box?" Sung questioned the humanoid with his pen poking at the uncharacteristically raw statement. "I don't know." they replied, "everyone checks it. You do have the freedom to not check that checkbox, we will not force your hand."

  Sung stared at them some more, visibly dissatisfied by their answer. The humanoid, in a panic, added, "I guess we'll just return you to where we found you? It's not exactly legal for us to trap you here anyways, is it? That would be false imprisonment. I mean, if you have somewhere to return to anyways."

  Sung checked the box. It's true, he has nothing to lose. Where'd he return to? The same old cardboard den he built himself for what little shelter some flimsy old cardboard can provide? Revenge is there, one checkbox away. Worst case scenario, he's wrong about his ex-partner's involvement in this and he just signed away his life to some gruesome illegal human experimentation laboratory.

  That's... actually horrifying.

  But is it deal breaking?

  No.

  The slim offchance that Sung'd be able to meet and beat the living crap out of his ex-partner was good enough of a justification for him. He firmly handed the form over to the humanoid, who stowed it away into a drawer.

  Next to them, a laser printer hummed and spat out a very formal looking piece of paper. A receipt printer above the laser printer then also whirred and out came a tiny label, "Laboratory A-3".

  "Thank you, take back your ID and birth certificate, and here's your death certificate and your clone bay number. Go to the third room on the right for your brain imaging. Remember that after the cloning process, you will slowly cease to be Navis Wan. Next!" Sung barely had time to collect his stuff before the kiosk before him disappeared, his environment slowly morphing into that of a long, winding corridor lined with sliding doors.

  "A - 103" The sign read. Further along the corridor, another sign read "A - 104", wrong direction. Sung turned around and broke into a sprint. The sprint quickly turned into much panting and hobbling. He was never the athletic one, after all.

  It took him long before reaching laboratory A-3, though the humanoid in there greeted him as if he arrived right on time. Same androgynous look, except this one was wearing a lab coat while the humanoid behind the kiosk wore a rather smart suit. In the middle of the room sat a huge glowing tub of bubbling liquid with tentacles of brain electrodes floating and flailing about.

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  Sung was all too familiar with this tub - it was his design, an exact replica. They didn't even bother changing the dimensions... Sung thought to himself, as he slid into the vat obediently, which fitted him like a glove. Of course, the vat was originally designed just for both of them, who weren't exactly the tallest people on the planet. Needles stabbed into his skull as the liquid slowly but painlessly dissolved his body.

  "You'll feel your consciousness fading, but you'll soon wake up in your designated bedroom." The doctor said. Sung knew that, after all he designed the procedure. His body was already the thirteenth cloning attempt.

  The first few were far too gruesome to mention, only after the fifth attempt did Sung regain basic human functionalities, and only the last time did Sung's original appearance get ported over to the basic humanoid template, a feature he wasn't able to commit and push onto the shared servers from his computer before, well, that happened.

  Sung couldn't quite remember what the twelfth attempt looked like though, and prayed that it at least had everything a normal human body would before his vision blurred and his mind faded. His body, now a puddle of red fishy kool aid, was drained alongside the rest of the fluids. The drain gargled disgustingly.

  Gargles, more gargles.

  Gargles filled Sung's ears, as for the second time in this day he woke up in an unfamiliar environment, this time in a blue tube. The gel-like oxygenated fluids drained nastily down a pipe, leaving Sung slimy and slightly pukish.

  Just as Sung was about to complain about the gel that's stuck to his new body, the tube doused Sung with icy yellow solvents, completely washing the gel away before finally opening up to let him out. Dazed once again, Sung stumbled out of the pod and into this new room he now finds himself in.

  Immediately left to the tube was a white plastic minimalistic desk. Embedded in the desktop was a run-of-the-mill hologram projector. There also seemed to be a note stuck on top of the desk with tape. To the right of the desk laid a bed, similarly white and minimalistic.

  Upon closer inspection, the bed seemed to be one of those foldable cardboard beds they use for quick camps and deployments. Not comfortable, not at all, but it does the job just well enough to not be considered a human rights violation - not that Sung had any rights right now anyway.

  Sung turned his head to the right, the cold steel door sealed his quarters shut from the rest of the compound, with not even a peephole to look outside. The door lock seemed to be card-activated, not unlike the ones they've got in hotels.

  A gray bookshelf stood next to the door, though except for the plastic potted plant on the second shelf, the rest felt unwelcomingly empty. Opposite to the bookshelf, similarly next to the door, a sliding door revealed itself to be part of a wardrobe. Hangars hung evenly spaced, too evenly.

  The entire room had no windows, there were curtains above the bed and desk, but Sung opened them to reveal what seemed to be more cold walls.

  Sung patted himself down, thankfully most human features seem to be intact. He turned his attention to the mirror across the room, and like the receptionist, like the doctor, Sung now has the same human template of a body.

  Slightly disgruntled, Sung walked over to the desk and tore the note off the desk. "Welcome to your bedroom." Said the note. "This will be where you rest and respawn should you die on the test fields.

  "You may use the provided facilities within this room however you like. Though you are reminded that any replacements to damaged facilities will be coming out of your bank account. You may also purchase furniture and appliances for your room via the Hypernet. You may access the Hypernet market via the hologram projector installed in your desk or via the smart phone provided.

  "We have already set up your bank account for you, and transferred funds originally in your previous bank account into your new facility bank account. All transactions are to be made with the facility's currency. Item trades are allowed, but the use of any fiat and cryptocurrency for the purpose of transactions is strictly forbidden. You are also hereby warned that any attempts to circumvent the facility's supervision over your transactions are not allowed. You may read the Clone Handbook within your projector's hard drive to learn about the consequences.

  "Everything you need can be found within the confines of this complex. From restaurants, to clinics, to morgues. You are forbidden from interacting with services outside of the facility.

  "Experiments are recruited online. If you wish to participate in experiments, you may petition to enroll your group via the recruitment platform KlonedIn. Payment from participation will be decided by the ranking of your group within the experiment. Lack of participation will not result in any punishments, though the system will send over a counsellor should there be extended absences. Sabotaging the experiments will result in disciplinary actions, and multiple offenses may result in permanent neural rewiring.

  "We understand it may be stressful for such a drastic change in life, and we are committed to ensuring all subjects under us are in good health, both mentally and physically. Free therapy is available as long as you seek for it. Please do not hesitate to reach out.

  "All of your memories are flawlessly stored within your projector. You may review them freely whenever. Your stored memories will be used by the facility to solve disputes, as such any attempts at modifying, erasing, or forging memories are strictly prohibited.

  "Finally, your door key is at the back of this note. Please carry your key with you at all times, as it doubles as your new ID card. You may request for a new one at the General Office should you lose it.

  "We hope you can get used to your new life and make yourself useful to society."

  Sure enough, stuck to the back of the note was a card, with "Navis Wan, E-035698" laser engraved on top of the metallic card.

  Right, he used a fake name.

  Sung took the card and tapped it on top of the door knob, the door clicked and slowly slid open to reveal a bustling common room. Figures similar to the receptionist and the doctor populated the room, though much more expressive and rowdy. They seem to be arguing about something.

  Sung slid the door close, and silence instantly returned. The door is very sound proof, Sung thought. He tapped his card on the knob again and walked out into the common room.

  "Ope, out comes the last of us!" Hollered the one on the sofa. "Name's Miguel, Miguel Smith. Texas."

  "Ed- Navis Wan, Hong Kong, nice to meet you." Sung replied, still wary of the strangers in front of him.

  "Don't be shy now, boy. We ain't a bad crowd!" Miguel grinned.

  "Jones Wilson, London." Said the guy standing behind Miguel. "Pleased to meet you."

  "Same here."

  "Suzuki, Yoko." The one beside Jones bowed. "Let's get along well."

  "Let's" Sung bowed with her.

  "What about hi- them?" Sung quickly corrected himself. He pointed at the one leaning on the table, engrossed in their game.

  "Oh them? No idea, they never bothered to introduce themselves. Mannerisms look tomboyish though, I'll assume they're a girl." Miguel replied with a slight hint of annoyance. "Alright then, that about all of us."

  "So, from the top. I'm Miguel, I worked as a janitor before I accidentally knocked up a chick and went flat broke from paying child support. I ain't the most trustworthy dude in here but I hope we can get along."

  Miguel started off his monologue about trust and teamwork and so on, all the while Sung looked around some more. Jones was shuffling and fidgeting around on the sofa, almost like a kid waiting for his parents to finish scolding him. Yoko meanwhile appeared to be listening attentively, but her fingertapping was a rather dead givaway that she, too, wanted Miguel to end his pointless ramblings early.

  Yet, oblivious was Miguel to this general consensus.