Project R.E.X: B.R.E.A.K.F.A.S.T
Summary: Biologically Revolutionary Experimentation And Kinetically Formed Autonomous Sentient Teenager
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It was morning at the Plant, and the Providence Defect Team was currently having some breakfast.
Six was standing in the background, analyzing everyone and everything in a protective manner while silently sipping on his coffee. Which was of course, as black as his soul.
Dr. Holiday yawned as she helped White Knight render his beloved milk nanite-free. Bobo, stereotypically, was munching on some bananas. While Rex sat across from César, and he casually brought up a memory that had been lingering in his mind for a while.
“You know, I remember Rylander telling me once that he was the one who pitched in my name,” Rex said, stirring his cereal absentmindedly. “That still true?”
César, who was sipping his own coffee, gave a small smile and nodded. “Sí, it was Rylander’s idea. He wanted your name to reflect what you were—Revolutionarily Evolved Xeno-organism. R.E.X.” He tapped the table for emphasis before adding, “And, of course, he thought it was fitting since ‘Rex’ means ‘King’ in Latin.”
Rex let out a small chuckle. “So, what, he wanted me to have a god complex?”
César smirked. “No, I think he just wanted you to have a name worthy of what you were meant to be.” His expression softened as he continued. “And speaking of Rylander… it was actually our parents’ idea to make him your godfather.”
Rex blinked. “Wait—what?”
César nodded. “They trusted him. Respected him. When they saw what you were, what you could be, they wanted someone who would protect and guide you. Someone who understood you.” He paused, looking at Rex with an unusual amount of fondness. “In a way, you weren’t just my little brother, Rex. You were Rylander’s family too.”
Rex sat back in his chair, taking that in. He had always known Rylander had a certain attachment to him, but this? This was something else entirely.
“…Huh,” he muttered, a small smile forming. “Guess that explains why he always looked out for me.”
César nodded. “He was always meant to.”
The others smiled fondly at the wholesome scene between brothers. Well, Holiday openly did it anyway. Six was outwardly as impassive as ever. Bobo tried to act like he didn’t cared. White Knight actually *didn’t* care.
The doctor was finally able to sit down to enjoy her own breakfast — scrambled eggs and bacon — now that White had his beloved milk in his hands. As they continued eating, idly indulging in some casual chatter, Rex tilted his head, another curious thought popping into his mind.
“Hey, César… why’d you make me a teenager, anyway?”
César glanced up from his coffee, raising a brow.
“I mean, you could’ve made me a little kid or, I dunno, a fully grown adult,” Rex continued. “So why a teenager?”
At that, Six, Holiday, Bobo, and even White Knight paused and turned their attention to César. Each of them seemed to have their own reasons for wanting to hear the answer.
“That’s true. I’m also rather curious of why didn’t you designed Rex to be a different age.” Holiday hummed thoughtfully, her brilliant mind sparkling with interest.
“Surely it wouldn’t had been difficult for you, right?” Six also asked, raising a sharp eyebrow.
To that, César sighed, setting his cup down. “I didn’t really have a choice.”
Rex blinked. “What do you mean?”
César leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples as he explained. “The R.E.X. was designed to be a self-sustaining lifeform, but there were… complications. If I made you a full-grown adult, your body wouldn’t have been able to handle the energy output. You would’ve literally exploded from the sheer instability as soon as you left your pod.”
Bobo choked on his bananas. And no, not in a gay way. “Wait—exploded? Like, boom?”
César gave him a pointed look. “Yes. Boom.”
Holiday, ever the scientist, tapped her chin in thought. “And what about a younger body, instead?”
César shook his head. “Anything younger than a teenager wouldn’t have been physically strong enough to sustain itself. The nanites would’ve constantly drained energy from the host, and eventually, the body would’ve just… failed.”
Rex shuddered. “So basically, it was either explode or die weak?”
César nodded. “Exactly. A teenage body was the perfect middle ground—strong enough to sustain itself, but not so developed that it would self-destruct.” Then he smirked slightly. “And, well… it also helped that making you a teenager meant you could be my little brother.”
Rex rolled his eyes but grinned. “Of course that played a part in it.”
Holiday chuckled. “I suppose that worked out in the end. You got your perfect balance, and Rex got to be, well… Rex.”
White Knight, who had been silent up until now, sighed. “Great. So we have a hyper-destructive, self-sustaining, scientifically engineered teenager running around, and that was the best option?”
Bobo snorted. “Hey, it could’ve been worse. At least we don’t have an exploding Rex.”
Rex smirked at White Knight. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” The only nanite-free human huffed with annoyance and return to his milk.
The R.E.X then tapped his fork against his plate, thinking. “Okay, but… what about making me a baby?”
César blinked. “A… baby?”
“Yeah! You said a full-grown adult would explode and a little kid would be too weak, but what if you just made me a baby and let me grow up naturally?” Rex asked, leaning forward. “That way, no instability, no risk of going boom—just me, growing up like a normal person.”
César stared at him for a moment, then sighed, rubbing his temples. “I… didn’t actually think about that.”
Everyone at the table looked at him. Even White Knight’s usual blank expression flickered with mild surprise.
“You? The genius scientist who created an entire sentient lifeform didn’t consider making him a baby?” Holiday asked. Six who decided to sit beside her also raised an eyebrow, sharing her disbelief.
César waved a hand. “Look, in my defense, I was working under extreme pressure! There were so many calculations and safety measures to account for that the thought of starting from infancy just… never crossed my mind.”
Bobo snorted. “Wow, so much for being a genius.”
César shot him an annoyed glare before turning back to Rex. “Besides, even if I had thought of it, I’m almost certain it wouldn’t have worked. A baby’s body wouldn’t have been able to integrate with the nanites properly. They need a host with at least some developed structure to function.”
“So, what you’re saying is…” Rex squinted. “Baby me would’ve died too?”
César winced. “Most likely.”
Rex groaned. “Man, so I was doomed to be a teenager no matter what.”
César smirked. “It was the best outcome. And let’s be honest—you make a much better reckless teenager than you would’ve as a crying, drooling infant.”
Rex huffed. “Excuse you- I could’ve been an awesome baby.”
Bobo cackled. “Yeah, sure, a baby with built-in superweapons. That would’ve gone great .”
Holiday chuckled. “Imagine the tantrums...”
Six, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up. “I prefer the teenager. At least this version of you listens—sometimes .”
White Knight grumbled, “Not nearly enough...”
Rex sighed, slumping in his chair. “Guess I was born to be a teen superhero, huh?”
César smirked. “Built, not born. But yes, pretty much.”
"I still would’ve been a pretty cute baby, though.” Rex said with his usual smug smile, beaming with pride.
César then chuckled and ruffled Rex’s hair across the table, agreeing, “Yeah, you probably would’ve been a most adorable baby.”
Six simply nodded. “You’d be smaller, quieter, and less of a headache. Sounds like a win.”
Holiday then smiled warmly, gushing. “I’d bet you’d have those same big eyes. And if you still had that little button nose of yours, you definitely would’ve been cute.”
"Hey! My nose is not that small!" Rex whined, and then covered his smelling appendage, suddenly feeling self conscious about it.
Bobo then groaned, waving a hand. “Yeah, yeah, but someone would’ve had to deal with the diapers, and let me tell ya—no amount of nanites would’ve made that smell any better.”
White Knight, arms crossed, mutters in disgust, “Babies are just walking biohazards. The germs alone—ugh.”
Rex rolls his eyes. “Gee, thanks, guys. Real heartwarming conversation we got going here.”
The entire table then proceeded to chuckle or giggle (or in Six case, smirk just a little) at his expense. Rex huffed in annoyance and grabbed a big spoonful of his cereal, munching them loudly to show his displeasure.
Though, secretly, he did had his own silly little grin of comfortable happiness growing on his face. As he wouldn’t trade this kind of domestic setting for anything in the world.
"Heh. I guess not even Revolutionarily Evolved Xeno-organisms are expensed from this kind of embarrassment…" Rex thought fondly, taking another, much more delighted, spoonful of his cereal, "And I wouldn’t have it any other way."