Kalran: Tales of the four nations/Cloning

"It is the duty for everyone one of you here to fight! For you are the Trueborn mighty shield to defend us. You will be the ones who will lead us to victory against the cruel beasts outside. Whether it be our traitorous brethren, machines that hides in the mountains, cowards who will never fight head on, barbarians who try to fight us with reptiles, or even the dark order that seeks our destruction! When you charge upon them know that they are weak and soulless monsters, and that when you fall we will remember your sacrifice to bring on a better tomorrow fighting to destroy the beast you hate. So ready yourself shield. IN LIFE DUTY IN DEATH GLORY!"

-Recorded speech, during a failed ADF assassination, of officer Naofumi Tarleton, an infamous Trueborn commander known as "The butcher", towards his clone forces, roughly ten thousand, before they went into battle. Reports indicated roughly ten clones survived said battle, the rest were never recorded nor mentioned, only estimated that a third quarter of the casualties were intentional friendly fire, by the Trueborn, or could have been easily avoided.

Resources.

Resources were always needed in order to wage warfare. An endless hunger that drove nations to bankruptcy, made every victory a temporary respite from the need for more resources, made every defeat that much more painful to bear. Sometimes, war was merely an excuse to acquire more and more resources, feeding the need now in order to be that much fuller later. There were - and are - many varieties of resources. Most obvious were materials, ore that fed the nations as they clashed in world shaking wars, rubber, steel, and power for roaring vehicles of destruction, money that flowed back and forth unceasingly between nations and factions. But there was one resource that was more important than all of the above. Some nations, some factions would throw money in order to keep what they had of this precious commodity. Others would give up freedom in order to gain security for it. This most precious of all resources, more valuable than gold or ore...is bodies.

Playing god
Nearing the end of the great war the Reclaimers, long threw away their pacifist ideals, were on the brink of loss with manpower shortage. Half of their forces having defected on mass upon their leader destroying the very ideal they fought for, while the other have began taking massive casualties without a way to replace the losses. Until Desmond revisited an idea.

During one of his many research, before and during the war, he had found a way to recreated flesh and blood organs, except the brain and limbs, with the help of divine magic, that can be transplanted without much issue. In another time he could have used it to help millions and grant the crippled a new life. But as he threw away his ideal of peace he realized that, with the help of Devil blood, he can create near sentient creatures, in bulk and with little genetic materials, but came with the side effect of said clones suffering a short life, the longest recorded being nine years old, and the uncanny ability of growing up upon absorbing the essence of dying creatures, allowing a two months old clone that looked like an eight years old to suddenly grow into the body of an adult in mere minutes.

What came after is still remembered to this day, with history of a wave of soldiers, bearing the Reclaimer emblem and armed with barely functional rifles, charging upon the empires gunlines, leaving mountains of corpses as they overwhelm the defenders. And to this age their role never changed, being the Reclaimers hammer to smash apart anything through attrition.

Bullets and batteries
"The Trueborn never once, or even tried to, acknowledge the clones as people. If a single Trueborn dies in battle it's considered a great tragedy. But if ten thousand clones died to claim a mile the only complaint you'll hear for them is the time it'll take to send in the next batch, or frustrated to how much cost-ineffective the exchange was, like how one complains of getting shortchanged. To the Trueborn the clones are nothing more than glorified bullets, batteries, and gears to further their goal, and those that are broken or defective are thrown away and recycled like trash. And tragically many of the clones are taught that being labeled as objects, like swords or spears, is their way of showing love, that having the Trueborn have complete control over anything they do is considered their kindness. When in reality it's slavery and abuse with a whitewash."

-Excerpt of an interview log with "Xander", a defector of the Trueborn given a fake name, with an ADF interrogator

In life, duty. In death, glory. That is the motto and mantra drilled into every clone upon decantation.

Using the genetic material from bodies, whether from other clones or people they attacked, they created new people, new bodies and minds in vats and tanks - clones. They thoroughly washed the brains and minds of the clones, making them content, making them nearer to machines than people - or so it was thought and hoped. Using cloning, the Reclaimers were able to make themselves armies from almost nothing, composed of quick-growing clones who were not counted as people and a nobility class of those born from the womb, the Trueborn.

A clone, upon decantation, is not unlike a baby’s; lacking any prior experiences, it is effectively a "blank template", so to speak. It was soon discovered by the Reclaimers that such a state of mind was ridiculously easy to manipulate, a fact that has allowed the Reclaimers to have clone soldiers on the battlefield mere months after their creation. Exposing these clones to a wave of radio instruction would reduce the time needed to properly train them. The process took a few days at the most, by the end of which a clone could know how basic combat, speak fluently, salute properly, and so forth. The Trueborn could implant false memories, or induce absolute hatred for their enemies and fervent dedication to the Trueborn, whom the most fanatical call their master. Hundreds of programs for radio instruction were written, one for every designated role for a clone to serve in their campaign.

But at the end of the day, they are seen as nothing more than a means to an end and are indoctrinated to never question the lot in life. And that under their teachings and brain molding, they are as human as ever, even when they look alike their minds are never the same. They have thoughts, dreams, wishes, regrets, and fears, they fall in love, they cry, they cheer, they get frustrated. But this is something that the Reclaimer Trueborn never addresses or acknowledges, and refuses to do so. Instead seeing them as bullets, or a pet at the absolute best, to be targeted toward and spent against their enemies for them to claim victory, even the Federation with its droid army treats their robotic soldiers as people whose lives should never be thrown away in inept suicidal charges unless it's absolutely the only way to ensure victory.

Indeed, in many ways the Reclaimers is a far worse kind of tyranny to its so-called subjects than the late Tuatha empire - for even the empire acknowledged that the soldiers under them are still people. Clones are not thought of as people but as mere weapons to claim victory, weapons that can easily be replaced if broken, defective, or done it’s use and recycles to make new weapons or blood money. Perhaps worst of all is that, with the technology of cloning and their strange ability to grow up and trained into soldiers in only a week, the analogy is partially true - when people can be efficiently replicated and regrown by batches, when the very process of thought can be manufactured using only a bit of genetic material, Devil blood, and the right tools, where one can make soldiers in an instant when it would have taken months or years, when it is possible to send clones out to die in droves because it is thought better than wasting the lives of natural Trueborn... The question is asked:

What measure is a clone?

Know your place, know your lot
"Now listen clearly. You are to never question our orders! You are to follow them! You are to never question your place! Your lot is to listen to us and OBEY! Those who disobey are defectives! And defectives only hurts themselves by refusing us because we know better! Now follow our orders next time, and be thankful that I spared your life, because there won't be a next time! LET THIS BE A LESSON TO ANYONE WHO THINKS OF DISOBEYING OUR ORDERS, LET THIS SHOW YOU WHAT WE DO WITH DEFECTIVES!"

-Recorded speech of Trueborn commander Naofumi as he publicly beat up and humiliated clone RA718 (Raphta), a Banner in training who broke the rules by retreating from the simulation, to other clones until she was reduced to a crying heap, medical records indicated three broken limbs, a dislocated shoulder, multiple broken ribs, broken jaw, heavy lacerations, and nearly blinded in one eye that it was a miracle that she recovered without any disabilities, the last sentence was addressed to the clones who watched it.

Another dark thing about the clones is that of promise.

The clones are always told that their life is to follow what Trueborn says, refusing to do so will be met by beating or whipping, if they're lucky, and never question them, even if it meant working in deadly environments without any compensation. With the promise that if they work hard enough they will rise to the rank of the and, one day, join the ranks of the Trueborn.

All a beautifully crafted lie.

In the end, the clones have no chance of a better life under the Trueborn, at best they will get a good meal for obeying like dogs and being considered worth saving when heavily injured. They can never quit, doing so would lead to execution, they aren't allowed to complain or ask questions, doing so results in beating, and they can never pursue anything not approved by the Trueborn. They must always follow orders without question, no matter if it kills them or they detest it, and put all of their efforts, and for everything they give to their "beloved masters" they get nothing. Upon death their bodies are thrown into the grinder to be reduced to raw materials and anything they held dear with it, they are not allowed to mourn for their fallen friends, since it would hamper their combat, they can never rest, every day they either train or fight in horrible meatgrinders of attrition, and they can never complain because they are always told that this the best they can get in life. And for those who choose to rebel? They get labeled as defectives, as broken tools that must be destroyed and replaced.

And what do the Trueborn get for this devotion? They get rich, by selling blood diamonds made from the corpses of clones or by pillaging countless innocents, they never have to worry about danger, deadly tests done by the clones while those who volunteer to fight are always being relegated to support far from the frontlines, and they can pursue their own interest unless it harms the Trueborn or the clone hatcheries, having the clones to do everything at their beck and call. And what do they have to contribute to earn all of these luxuries?

Nothing.

The Trueborn themselves sits in their underground base, only accessible by teleportation, where they can theorize and brainstorm idea to claim Alcradia themselves but delegate all of the physical, and often dangerous, works to the clones to do it, observing what happens to them like lab rats, and whenever they plan to pillage it all boils down to send waves of clones, no matter how suicidal such a frontal assault would be, with little long-range Trueborn support, which often also kills the clones in the field, until they achieved their objective, all while in the comfort of a hidden outpost while the clones get massacred by the dozen, some even enjoying the clones crying and calling for help. And whenever the battle is won they always take the credit, the millions of clones that fought tooth and nail and likely lost many friends are only acknowledged as a statistic, and if they lose then they retreat, often stranding any surviving clones while blaming the faults the rremaining clones in the battle, who are often persecuted without a chance of explanation and executed by the gas chamber or the grinder.

In the end, the lot of the clones are to work themselves to death serving the Trueborn, and falling behind their demand are met with death no matter the reason, since its easier/expedient to get a better replacement. While the Trueborn gets richer off the clone's work, who uses said power to make more clones to serve them again. And when the day comes when Alcradia is under their thumb they always lie to the clones that their sacrifice and dedication will be remembered, but in the end, they would say they did it on their own, disregarding all of the contributions and sacrifice the clones did for them because they are tools, not people.

As the clone of the Reclaimers they are the Trueborn sword, often told that you are the one that can protect them and will be justly rewarded. But like a sword, they are just as disposable, because a sword is less than a person.

Because a sword is a tool that can be remade in hours, because a sword never argues back against abuse.

They are not human, they are machines made of flesh
"But clones aren't people. They are the tools to our victory, and like tools, we can easily make more and replace them if they break. What makes them worst than actual tools is that they cower, they hesitate, and they refuse orders as if they were people, and despite our best efforts, we haven't found a way to make the subservient without slowing down the making process. And until we can crack the secret of the advance ai the Humans have we have to make do with these defective machines."

-Tapped and Recorded conversation between Trueborn commander Naofumi towards a Trueborn child.

For the Trueborn they are raised to see the clones not as people, but as tools, with their value equaling to debris. For a Trueborn it is in their right to physically abuse, degrade, and humiliate the clones if they don't live up to their standards. For them they expect the clones to follow any order, no matter how unreasonable or suicidal it is. For the Trueborn the death of a clone, even a single, is nothing but a statistic.

To this end any dangerous experiments are done by the clones, any idea a Trueborn have the clones will do the steps, and in the event a clone thought of something innovative the Trueborn that command them will take the credit. And when the clones die in these experiments or assignments, in duty to their masters, the Trueborn doesn't even shed a tear, at most they'll be angered if the clone failed the assignment or research and spit on their corpse, even as friends of that clones, who are also clones, watches. Because why should they care about the feelings of debris or the opinions of replaceable machines.

The Making of a Clone
"Three hundred thousand clones are now combat-ready. With six hundred thousand more coming in a week."

-A Trueborns report on the cloning vats

If there's one thing that can be said that truly embodies the Reclaimers clone and its army is this: efficiency.

From the moment a clone's embryo is seeded it will be bombarded by waves of magic and Devil blood that rapidly ages the clones into a baby, turning what would take nine months to gestate into a single day, here any detected defectives, or clones that failed in one aspect, are also killed and recycled. After that, the clone babies would have their bodies modified. The three main modifications are accelerated growth, aging five times as fast as a normal person, a digestive system that can only accept a specially made paste, both to simplify feeding an army of thousands and to make sure deserters would starve since their bodies will reject normal food, and aging by absorbing the essence of dying creatures, thus they will age faster while training, after that their body will be bombarded by a second wave of Devil blood, becoming two and ten years old mentally and physically, respectively. Thus what would normally take a decade and nine months to be ready for training is done within two days.

Next, these children would first be divided into the blanks and normals, then be segmented into their roles, based on their aptitudes, and spend a week of nonstop training, simulations, and testing. Letter and number identifications are assigned to the clones to remove any sense of identity, as the Trueborns viewed them as pieces of a machine, and not people. Endless mental and physical drills bled into the clones' "recreation," where they participated in sports and games that resembled battle situations. Any bouts of anger or rebellion were dealt with by placing clones in retraining pods, essentially isolation tanks, and if they still rebelled, labeled "defective", are culled and recycled. Throughout their training, the Trueborn overseeing them mutters veiled threats of "disposal" if the clones failed their testing.

Clone education was very rapid, and their learning consisted of intense classes that use screens and focus-enhancing helmets to help clones memorize information that would be their role upon becoming combat-ready. Infantry clones, Swords, Shield, Spear, Bow, and so have their helmets painted with a decal of their role names, clones in vehicles and aircraft would use simulation instead, and naval clones are trained in simulated decks.

It is also during this time where the overseers would look out for lagging clones, and dispose of them if they can't catch up, and special clones, who exhibits a stronger affinity of a desired trait, are then taken into a more specialized training program, or even body modifications, whether it be a Banner, Dagger, or so, and trained for another week, with those that failed(AKA died) being disposed and recycled. Said clones are forced to take the program, and beaten if they refuse.

And during these training are also live combat, either against captured beasts, captured enemy, or even other clones, where the clones would absorb the dying essences and rapidly age. Grinding to a snail's pace once they reach the age of four, or twenty by clone years, though their body will still age when near a dying body, but it's significantly slower.

Thus what would normally take a decade or two for a clone to be combat-ready is shortened into a week or two. Combining this with the massive numbers of clones made per day means that the loss of a hundred thousand clones is nothing but a setback.

But said modifications, all in the name of creating soldiers and workers, come at the cost of the clone's life.

Due to a combination of rapid aging and Devil blood in their body, a clones lifespan is drastically shortened, only living up to twenty years, as after that all of their organs simultaneously fail, with complications popping around fifteen, though many will likely die early under the Reclaimers, whether by combat or weakening to the point the Trueborn sees no use to keep them. But with their training outright aging them to adulthood in a week, and their body passively aging whenever they're near a dying creature, a clone would only live up to, on average, eight years.

The second problem is that once they reach four years old their cognitive flexibility sharply drops, with their struggle to adapt being similar or worst to those with mental problems or the elderly, thus once training is complete their training is complete it's nigh impossible for them to learn and adapt, though they still can as shown by the Claymore veterans, thus locking them into their roles with little way to grow and requiring orders to do complex tactics.

There are also flash trained, or flash, clones. Unlike normal clones the Trueborn skips the second growth and instead modify the embryo and age the clone to adulthood immidietly followed by forcing the basics in minutes.

Compared to normal clones flash clones are combat-ready within minutes. But due to the rapid pace and flexibility issue these clones have the body of an adult, but the mind of a baby who cn barely learn. Thus flash clones are often used as an emergency or a distraction fodder, since they can't do much else.

Those who Escaped
"Those bastards always lie, they talk up about how we'll be remembered as heroes or our just cause in fighting for freedom but in the end, we're slaves forced to fight a war we barely understand, enemies we barely know, all for monsters who refuse to see us as people. They wouldn't even call us subhuman, because that requires them to at least acknowledge we're human in some way."

-An interview with Rex Cutter, original name RE333X, captain of the 501st "wheelbreaker", a special UCA regiment made of freed clones, specialized in fighting against the Reclaimers

Of course, by some miracle, some clones are able to escape, whether by being left for dead and surviving, freed by other forces, or even miraculously escaped the base they were imprisoned in. As for life outside, it's a struggle.

Due to their modifications and training, most clones only know how to either fight or do heavy labor with little to no means of self-sufficiency, often turning to either mercenaries or bandits to survive, with their digestive modified so that their body will only accept a special paste, mainly consisting of nutrients and recycled clones, and rejecting anything else, and being deserters mean that they live in constant danger of the Daggers, or even the Trueborns, hunting them. Those who managed to reach one of the nations fare better.

Due to the UCA, Navaheim, Kevros, and Rokhari recognizing their status, clones who managed to reach either of the four are, after going through a security check to make sure they aren't spies, are turned into proper citizens.

In these cities, the clones are free, with many cities giving them a place to live and supplying them with specially made food they can stomach, though being born sterile meant they couldn't bear biological children, others still rejoin the military.

The reason why they choose to fight again varies, some do it to free their enslaved brothers and sisters, some see it as a way to repay their new home for the life given, others want to enact vengeance on the Trueborn for the hell they gave. In such circumstances, the clones would either join an existing military unit or even form their own regiment, like Rex Wheelbreakers, of only clones. But unlike their former masters, these soldiers are given choice, treated no differently from a normal person.

But in the end their life is still, in a sense, tragic. As their accelerated growth mean that all of them will die once they reach twenty and their stunted cognitive flexibility meant that it would take years, which they have little, to learn the basics of most things.