Attack Of The Clones Novel Novels & Stories

My Luna. But now, standing here, faced with the reality that Claire was not just an ordinary agent but the head of the very agency that had become my second family, a profound sense of duty washed over me. The shock gradually transformed into a fierce determination, a willpower to rescue her from Zack’s clutches, the cunning mastermind who sought to manipulate and control her for his own sinister purposes.

Arrienne’s POV The snow fell heavier now, thick flakes swirling like the chaos inside my mind. We took shelter inside an abandoned ranger station deep in the woods—Jace had found it years ago during a mission that no longer mattered. Everything from our past was unraveling, bleeding into the present, and now… I wasn’t sure who the real enemy was anymore. A clone. Someone who looked like me, moved like me—was created using me. And now she was being used as bait.

And they had resolve. Inside the facility, they encountered what they had feared: new clones. Not like Eli—grown, trained, enhanced. Already wearing the faces of old enemies and long-dead allies. Damien fought through them with fire in his veins. In one corridor, a clone with Mara's face stood before him. Cold, perfect, a ghost from a path not taken. He hesitated. The clone did not. She attacked, and Damien defended—not just with skill, but fury. When it ended, he stood above her shattered form, panting.

Afterward, they held each other, Damian’s hand resting on the belly, feeling the child move. But victory was hollow. The Architect’s death had released something worse. New threats simmered in the shadows. The clones had not all been destroyed. In the chaos of the final battle, several enhanced duplicates had escaped the labs. They were out there—looking exactly like Damian, programmed with fragments of his memories, but loyal to the old syndicate’s remnants. They moved in the shadows, gathering followers, whispering promises of a restored order. One week after the fleet’s fall, the first clone appeared.

Chloe gasped, backing away. The shadow didn't speak. It simply pointed at the two remaining clones. The clones froze. Their green eyes turned violet. They turned around and looked at Chloe. "What are you doing?" Chloe screamed, clicking her remote. "I am your master! Obey me!" The clones didn't obey. They lunged at Chloe, their black claws gleaming in the flickering lights. Chloe barely had time to scream before they dragged her into the darkness of a side room. The sounds that followed were enough to make my stomach turn.

“She’s been cloning more than me.” A soft hiss drew their attention. The door behind them slid open, and the clone stepped in. His shirt was torn, bloodless despite the fight. His face was calm again. “You can’t run from perfection,” he said. Liam stepped forward, shielding Ava behind him. “You’re not perfect. You’re empty.” The clone tilted his head. “And you’re obsolete.” He moved first too fast. Liam barely blocked the first hit, but the second landed across his jaw. The fight was brutal, silent except for the sound of fists meeting flesh and the hum of the pods vibrating from the impact.

It was a small, shy smile, exactly the way Faith used to smile when she was a child. “Help us,” the clone said. I will, Faith promised. The sound of the vent cover being ripped off echoed through the room. The soldiers were here. Faith stood up, and beside her, the first clone stood up too. “Leo, how much longer?” Faith asked, her hands beginning to glow. “Two minutes!” Leo shouted. “We only need one,” Faith said. She looked at the soldiers dropping from the ceiling, their guns lifted. Then she looked at the rows of waking girls.

She was entirely exposed, standing at the control pedestal on the metal platform, frantically ripping wires out of the console and splicing them together with her bare hands. The floor finally gave way. The transparent marble shattered completely. A tide of pale, grey-skinned clones poured up from the shaft into the throne room. They did not roar. They moved in terrifying, silent unison, their blank white eyes locking onto us instantly. "Hold them back!" I ordered the remaining beast-kin warriors. The five surviving fighters formed a half-circle around the elevator platform, thrusting their heavy obsidian spears into the advancing grey wave. They fought with the ferocity of cornered animals,

Byron I strode through the dark corridors of the dungeons, passing by several cells, most of which held Hollowborns we captured. Hollowborns were the second plague of our time. Capturing supernaturals and stealing their magic. I always enjoy torturing them. But today, I'd come for a different reason. I stopped before the cell that held the werewolf. The gates had been laced with wolfsbane, making it impossible for her to try to escape. It didn't seem like she was planning on it, judging by how she curled against the wall, hugging her knees tightly. She didn't seem to notice my presence, or maybe she just didn't care enough.

It's so surreal to see real clones and even weirder that they're Eric's clones, who I have come to know as somehow a friend, but then I'm already part of a new world, and suddenly meeting Abby for the first time with my face was no longer such a big deal compared to actual cloning. My consciousness of the current scenario has been jolted back as Eric throws two more knives at the assassins, making them move away from us and geared to attack her instead. Their movements were very fast, the floor was very big, and every crisp punch and muted kick slap reverberated throughout the room. All the blows with the fist could be heard, but not a single groan from any of them.