The Origin Story of Blackwood:

30 Years Ago

In the outskirts of California, inside a range of tall, protruding forestry, there stood a laboratory. Time had seemingly forgotten it, letting its structure decay, and its windows crack.

A further look, however, told just how wrong that assumption was; the lab was in fact alive, even if just barely. Amidst a line of dust-covered blackboards, one surface glistened with equations and formulas.

Beyond the scientist who scribbled numbers in chalk, were a row of forgotten experiments. Among the many rotting beds, two dipped in their centers.

One of the patients woke up with a gasp. A little boy who regarded the beeps and monitors around him with worry.

Where am I?

He looked around the unfamiliar place. There was a makeshift wall to his left, made from a blanket that hung from rope. Suddenly, his gaze was forced downward, where a gurgle of some sort was resounding.

"What was that?" His small fingers held onto the bed. He scrunched his face in a wince, fully expecting pain in his abdomen as he lifted. See, the boy was used to a hurting stomach.

There was nothing, though.

It was more than weird, but he had no time to make sense of it, because he noticed blood on the floor. He threw a hand over his mouth.

His heart ran a mile.

A different boy laid over the reddened pool, his parted mouth the source of it. The last inch of life left in him escaped from a gurgled cough, but not before his eyes panned up, towards the bed, at the one watching.

It occurred to the latter only then that they were both bald. Both little. Both boys. Weirdly, they were both... many things... Fear etched its presence on the latter's face.

An abrupt, instinctive scream followed.

Laid in blood was no foreign boy.

It was him, himself in a mirrored ploy.

By now, he'd fallen onto the bed and was hugging his knees, crying, and waiting for the nightmare to be over.

This is a nightmare. This is a nightmare. This a nightmare—

Footsteps entered. They halted abruptly. "Oh no, they saw each other... I was afraid this would happen."

The young one held his breath and stayed as still as possible. A strange place with strange look-a-likes and strange men created a strange rhythm behind his chest.

The footsteps got closer, sloshing and suctioning the liquid floor. "Hey. You're okay. I'm not here to hurt you."

Holding his eyelids down, he cursed the creature behind his chest for beating so loudly on his walls.

"I found you in the forest nearby three days ago," he explained. "Do you remember that?"

He bit his lip.

"I realized you were very sick. You had pancreatic cancer, but I bet you already knew that." He said. "You were dying, so I brought you here, and, well, I cloned the cancer out of you."

His breath caught on a beat.

"I screwed up, though, and didn't separate you two well enough. You weren't supposed to see each other, but you did and now you... Ah, never mind." he said apologetically. "I hope you know I'm sorry."

Still facing away from the man, the boy parted his lips. "I'm a c-clone?"

"Yes."

"I'm not... sick anymore?"

"No. You're okay, now. I'll take you back to your folks whenever you're ready. Do you have a mom, or dad?"

Triggered by the last word, all of it flashed him at once. Inside a string of archives from a recent night was his father's anger, and his own shouts for mercy as he had been thrown like trash into the woods.

N-no, please, Dad... Why are you doing this?

Shut up! I'm doing you a favor. And quit calling me that. I'm not your damn father.

P-please, don't leave me. Please, I'm scared.

Get away from me. Wasting all my money on that useless chemo. I should've never met your mother.

I-I'm sorry. I promise I'll get better. Please don't leave me here.

Ha! There is no cure! You and your cancer can fucking die together.

"I remember."

"Huh?"

"My da—stepdad. He... he left me."

"Oh. I'm sorry that happened."

"He doesn't like me," he spoke into the mattress, on which dampened with his tears. "B-Because I have cancer."

A hand large but gentle lowered to rub his back.

"Did you really... cure me?" He posed shakily. "My dad said there is no cure to cancer."

"I did my best to. If you still feel some pain, tell me, so I can..."

The little boy didn't know what came over him. He'd done it without much thought—twisting around in a single motion to wrap his arms around the strange man.

"...help you," finished he who returned the embrace.

The man was burly. The boy knew this because his arms didn't even attempt to reach in the back. What's more was the prickling on his hairless head. He looked up at the towering figure in awe. His vision was filled of a beard, fiery and untamed.

When the man laughed, the boy felt every move of his belly. "I don't think anyone's hugged me like that, before, but I love it. "

The bearded man rubbed his back a final time before letting go. Now that his beard wasn't in the way, the little boy saw he was holding a cigar in his mouth.

The man's index finger, as large as the boy's entire hand, swiped across his cheek. "So, you aren't in any pain?"

"No. Thank you, sir."

He smiled. "I've been working on this technology for a long time, you see. I came here all the way from France. Know where that is?"

He shook his head.

"It's really far. I've been learning how to make clones. You are, actually, my first patient. I'm truly glad you're alive. I wasn't expecting this to happen in some forest in the States."

He laughed, and all the boy could have was how insanely cool cloning was.

"What is your name, by the way?"

"I don't... know."

"Oh no." His brows lifted. "Did I mess up with your memories? Do you remember your age?"

"Six and a half."

"Your siblings?"

"I don't have any."

"Your mom?"

"She's not here anymore."

"Your doctor's name?"

"Dr. Willis."

"Your house number?"

"Uh..."

"Hm. Maybe kids your age don't know that much." He stroked his beard. "It's possible you only forgot your name. Which is no big deal. We can figure it out when I take you back to your stepdad... O-Oh no, are you crying?"

"I don't want to go back to him," he sniffled.

He pushed his lips together, apologetically. "I'm not sure I can let you stay here, kid."

"I don't want to go back. Don't make me go back."

The man sighed. "Alright. Just for now. But, what will we do about your name?"

"Um... What's your name?"

"I go by Redbeard."

"Woah. I want a color in my name, too."

"Like... Blackwood?" He then chuckled at the boy's awed look. "Do you like that?"

"Yeah."

"Alright then, Blackwood. Like I said, I can't let you stay with me for too long. Two weeks, max. I'll make sure you're fully cured, and from there, you'll have to be on your way. I'm sorry, kid."

At that, the boy's lip began to quiver. "Let me stay longer. Please, I-I want to know how to clone, to... to save my friends in chemo—Benjamin, and Lillian." He looked up desperately. "I want to save them, so please teach me."

Redbeard picked him up by his underarms and carried him past the blood and the dead body.

They walked down the hallway of this obviously abandoned building. The little boy was set down to sit on a desk that overlooked a blackboard.

"It'll be years before you can do what I do. But, if you're serious about this, there is a way to speed up the process."

"I am serious." Blackwood announced firmly.

"Good. There are people who know how to clone better than me. But, they don't live in this world. You'll have to travel to the world they are in, and learn from them. The good news is, you've completed two of the three requirements to travel: you killed yourself, and you killed someone else."

"My... other self?"

"Exactly. You killed two birds in one stone. Actually, you will be the first to be able to travel before you've died," he smiled. "Which is pretty cool."

"Um, I don't really... understand."

"That's alright. We'll start from the beginning."

His eyes followed Redbeard who took a stick of chalk from the board and began writing:

ESSE

"Ess... Sea?"

"Close. The word is eh-sé. It represents existence."

"Existence?"

"Yes. I'm going to teach you the truth about our existence, Blackwood."

His lips were pulled into an 'o' while the other wrote something else:

TRAVELER

"The reason we exist has to do with a man named Traveler."

Then Redbeard scribbled a drawing of a flower he'd never seen before.

"The reason we can clone has to do with a flower."

***

Present Day

"Your Honor, we cannot ignore that my client's actions were motivated by a desire to save lives, and for years, he's done exactly that."

"We don't know that for a fact, Your Honor. Not only has Blackwood ignored multiple laws, it's possible that the cloning technology has side effects."

"Feel free to examine the children cloned decades ago. Any side effects would've shown up by now. They are the exact same person save for their illnesses. There isn't more to it."

Blackwood was slouching, after all. They'd been at it for a while now.

They weren't in the typical courtroom—no jurors nor onlooking citizens. Rather, this was a conference room inside the courthouse, furnished by a large table on which legal documents were splayed.

Four other men were present, all seated on leather chairs and spewing words at each other. Blackwood had his head laid back against his chair lazily.

"Then why has no parent ever been notified? Imagine the turmoil they go through whenever their child goes missing. And then the confusion when they return completely healed!"

"That isn't true. Until now, my client has approached these families and informed them about a new, experimental technology. Of course, he kept details about cloning hidden."

"That's absurd. Who would agree to that?"

"The poor who are desperate and unable to afford treatment. That's who." Winston slid a thick stack of papers across the table. "Here. Copies of all signed the contracts. I'm also preparing witnesses to testify to that as we speak."

The man on the other side scoffed. "That means that the cloned children found by Luka Altair were actually kidnapped. Their families had no idea of their whereabouts. Either you are lying—"

"I'm not bold enough to lie before a judge."

"Then, admit it. There is something else going on, and your client isn't a savior like you say he is!"

"You're grappling at straws, Mr. Madden. It's quite pathetic."

"Then why were six children captured from their homes, and found inside a van?" He rose from his seat in fury.

"To answer that would be a breach of attorney-client confidentiality."

"Oh, you've got to be kidding," Madden threw his hands up, amused disbelief in his tone. "Your Honor!"

"What matters most," Winston continued, "is that hundreds of the poor and sick who are overlooked by this government every day, are given the chance to live. We shouldn't overlook this, especially not while Californian patients suffer from a lack of organ transplants. We have a proposal for you."

The judge squinted. "What are you suggesting, Mr. Winston?"

"My client will take care of the statewide organ shortage. I assume you all can imagine how. In exchange for that, we ask that all charges against Blackwood are dropped."

After a prominent beat of silence, Madden exploded. "Outrageous! That would be a breach of-of—"

"Of what, the law? There aren't any laws regarding cloning! Your Honor, if I may, I'd like an opportunity to present my perspective before we proceed."

"I'd love to hear this as well." The judge crossed his arms, unamused.

Meanwhile, Blackwood's jaw had yet to unclench since he heard the proposal. Behind the neutral face he wore, he was in fact seething. He pushed his seat back and stood to exit.

"Well done," Madden applauded. "Can't even control your own client."

"I apologize. May we have a recess?"

"Fine. We return in fifteen minutes."

Blackwood heard two hits of the gavel when he pushed the door open. He came to a halt in the hallway and stared ahead at nothing.

The old man wasn't too far off.

"I don't clone people for spare parts."

Winston sighed. "Why did you actually kidnap those children? You've never done that; you've always gotten approval beforehand."

"I have my reasons." He said, referring to Operation Make-Luka-a-Hero.

"Okay. Because of your reasons, we have to compromise. You're the only with with a solution to the organ shortage, Black. It's the only way."

For a while, it was silent.

"No. I swore to Red."

"I know, but, work with me, here. They'll throw you in jail if you aren't useful somehow."

"Then, I'll spend whatever's left of my life in jail."

"Stop saying that. Redbeard did everything for you to live. What would he say if you just threw that away? You'd be wasting his efforts."

He threw a glare over his shoulder. "Don't use him like that."

"I didn't mean that. Black—"

"I'll be in the restroom. Don't follow me."

***

30 Years Ago

There was no more space on the board for chalk.

It had been two weeks since Redbeard began teaching Blackwood the truth about the world's existence, the existence of other worlds, and Traveler's agreement with the universe.

He'd drawn countless diagrams in doing so. Of flowers and anatomy.

The little boy sat atop the desk, eyes rolling over the board as he stuffed his face with the last of his burrito. (Redbeard had a guy who ran errands for him.)

At present, Blackwood was asked to recite the last criteria he needed in order to travel.

"Your blood," Blackwood said confidently. "Since you're LeRouge."

Standing before him, the man nodded proudly. "Exactly. I'll mix some juice in so it isn't terrible when you drink it."

Blackwood kicked his legs in the air playfully. "Then I can travel. And learn how to save my friends from cancer. And all kinds of other kids, too."

"Is that your true wish?"

"Yeah. Lillian wants to be a doctor when she grows up. And Benjamin said he wants to work with the... the CIA. I think that's it." He leaned back on his palms, smiling.

Redbeard approached him with a serious look that actually matched his towering frame. "Promise me one thing, Black. Once you learn to clone, you can only use it to help."

Redbeard held out a pinky finger. The boy mirrored his seriousness and wrapped his hand around it.

"I promise."

"Good," he smiled, laying a hand over his head. "Woah, your hair's growing, already."

"Liar. It's only been two weeks."

They laughed.

Blackwood was first to stop. "Red."

"Yeah?"

"The other me died because we saw each other, but what will happen to... to this me?"

The man thinned his lips. "To be honest, I don't want to tell you. Not now, anyway. You'll learn it eventually, once you start learning to clone, but... I think you should wait until then."

"I want to know now."

"Why? You think you can handle it?"

"Yeah. I'm not a baby."

"Black..." he sighed. "I don't know."

"I promise. I won't cry, or anything."

He gave in with an exhale. "It goes like this: When an original sees their clone, their organs burst and they die, almost immediately. When a clone sees their original...," he began. "...their life is... cut in half. You won't live as long as you should've."

Blackwood had been holding onto his lower lip in anticipation.

"I'm so sorry, kid."

"I don't care about that," Blackwood said plainly. "I'm going to be an adult, my stomach doesn't hurt anymore, my hair will grow back soon, and I can help my friends, all because of you. That's more than I ever wanted."

"Oh, why do you have to be so sweet?" The man sobbed. "Oh come here, already." He threw his arms around the smaller frame.

"R-Red, I can't. . . breathe."

***

Present Day

Blackwood's face was dripping from the water he splashed on himself. He leaned over the sink and stared at his reflection blankly.

He didn't realize that someone had come in. The doors didn't squeak, and there was a wall separating the entrance from the sinks. He glanced at the person through the mirror.

"I thought I told you not to follow me."

Winston ignored that and took a spot beside him. "You know, through all my forty years of representing clients, a majority of them had to compromise—plea bargains, settlement negotiations—rarely anyone gets anything their way."

"I won't do it. They can throw me in jail. Two years isn't long, anyway."

"You still count down the time?"

He shrugged at that.

"Listen, Blackwood, we have ten minutes, and there are two options if we are going to address a statewide issue. California needs transplants for 3,000 people, thanks to Celine. No matter how it's done, cloning for organs results in death from the original. So either we find 3,000 individuals who don't mind dying to make a difference. Or we find one. Someone willing to be cloned that many times."

The muscles in Blackwood's face were taut. "You're fired."

He walked past the old man and rounded the wall to exit. He would've been out already had there not been a person blocking the way. His eyes lowered.

It was the man who sat in a wheelchair.

Blackwood thinned his lips and shifted aside. "Excuse me."

"Let me do it."

Brows furrowed.

"I heard everything," the man admitted. "You can clone people. And you'd like someone to help you solve the organ issue."

". . .You can forget everything you just heard."

Slowly, he lifted himself from his chair and onto his feet. He used the wall beside him as support. "My name is Neo Ruhl, and I've done terrible things to many people. I ruined lives, especially my nephew's."

Blackwood looked at him blankly. Honestly, he didn't have any energy left in him.

"I received my sentence just now. Twenty years, and I-I don't think it's enough to make up for everything I've done. If you could, I'd like you to use me."

"No. You don't know what you're asking for."

"I know I wouldn't mind dying a thousand times."

__________________________

A/N: a recap so far. NOT spoilers.

Requirements to keep a world from ending:
At least one person in that world must:
Have LeRouge blood
Take a life

Requirements to travel:
Have LeRouge blood
Take a life
Take own life

When an original sees their clone:
The original dies after a burst of organs

When a clone sees its original:
The clone's lifespan is halved

Blackwood can only live until 35.

Luka Altair cannot alleviate his hunger with food. Only murder.

Benjamin, as noted in life never really has to end, is Hawks from the CIA.