Attack Of The Clones Novel Novels & Stories

“The Question is, why did they clone Nova?” Kieran's face turns white as snow. Suddenly, Mirror-Me attacks and moves my body without my consent. Gideon almost dodged the attack, but my fingernails scratched his scars. And red lines appear on his skin. “Gideon!” I scream in my authentic voice. “It’s the clone using me.” Mirror-Me reacts inside my head. “Shut Up!” Pain spread into my brain! I fall, rolling in the snow. Everything turns blurry, but I see Kieran running towards me.

Echo intercepted her mid-turn, grabbing her by the collar and shoving her back into another clone so hard they both staggered. Then the world exploded into motion. I slammed my shoulder into a blurred-faced clone, knocking it sideways into a beam. Another grabbed my wrist; the marked one, and heat flared so sharply I cried out. It was like my skin had touched a forge. The clone recoiled instantly, hissing, as if the mark had burned it. Echo was a storm beside me, ducking under a swinging arm, her elbow cracking into a throat. The clone gasped, collapsing, but another stepped over its body without hesitation.

“Why? Why keep building more of me?” Lucien’s smile darkened. “Because you were never one woman. You were always a formula. The perfect equation. And I” he tapped his temple, “am the answer.” He pressed a button. And all the tanks lit up. The clones inside began to awaken. The Final Fight Begins Roman and Petra opened fire, taking down the first wave of Lucien’s guards. Lena hurled a pulse grenade at the control panel, buying them time. But the clones, half-born and confused, began to move.

Even if we didn’t leave to hunt the entire season, we wouldn’t starve. Camilla, on the other hand, still believed that, just like in the last life, the war for territory would only begin after winter ended. I had no intention of waiting until spring. The only way to win was to strike first, when no one expected it. While Camilla hid in capital, dreaming of ascending to the throne of Luna Queen, I led a fully armed pack, launching a surprise attack under the cover of snow. With the coordinated combat I had trained them in, we quickly crushed the surrounding packs, which were already weakened by cold and hunger, and forcibly absorbed them.

I asked, but he only laughed like the monster he was. Ian was nowhere in sight, and I noticed Father’s clones had grown taller and bigger. They weren’t just replacements—they were weapons of mass destruction. The first thing Father did in the room was stab me in the neck with a knife. I coughed up blood, falling to my knees. The attack came out of nowhere, and I was too fixated on the clones to see it coming.

As he took action, the clones were knocked away one after another. Chuba and Zemra were briefly overwhelmed by the sight and unable to react. However, moments later, they immediately realized their grave situation. With every injured clone, they suffered a backlash and had to quickly retract their clones. “I’m sorry!” James roared, then struck the final clone. After finishing off the clones, he leaped into the sky. Chuba and Zemra coughed up blood from the repeated backlash sustained from their injuries clones. However, they did not stop to recover and immediately transformed into light rays, shooting at James.

Five. I looked up at the soldiers. They weren't wearing police badges. They were wearing the Lotus-Pharma logo on their helmets. "He’s the one," the leader said. He raised his rifle. "Kill the clone." I rolled behind the fountain as the world turned into a wall of lead. The stone shattered. Water sprayed everywhere, mixing with the red in the grass. I looked at the burning house. I looked at the sky. The helicopter was a black speck against the moon.

The pods around the room began to pulse with light — slow at first, then faster. Isabella stepped back, eyes wide. “They’re waking up!” “Get behind me,” I ordered. The first pod shattered. Then another. Then another. Figures stumbled out — malformed, enraged, their veins glowing faintly blue under their skin. Clones. Experiments. Soldiers made in my father’s image — in my image. They roared in unison, the sound inhuman. Damian shouted, “Weapons up!” Gunfire erupted. Bullets tore through glass and flesh, but the things didn’t fall easily. They moved too fast, too wild. I fought with everything I had — blades, bullets, bare hands. Each strike felt like hitting a piece of my own past.

Though the term is more famous in high school, college has its own cliques. Their particular clique is strange. There were a bunch of muscular men around lanky guys with glasses, yet they were all conversing and mixing in naturally. And he was in the middle, a black-haired muscular guy in specs. His white long-sleeves were neatly folded up to his elbows as he quietly ate pasta, pushing the frame of his glasses up his nose every time they slide down when he leans into his plate. He had tattoos too. Long, swirly, and tribal ones from his neck and down to his forearms, undoubtedly covering the entirety of his right arm. Anna was particularly enamored by the irony of his gentle actions which wer

Nocté reached out to the dying newt and closed his eyes. “Come back, my lady! Nothing can help him.” Agnes's voice brought the girl back to the grotto. Nocté’s body, seized by a sharp weakness, became numb. The left arm stopped obeying. She turned to Agnes and began to wade through the water, slowing her pace until she stopped: the cold cooled her conflagrant mind, the maid's scream got in her ears, and the girl lost consciousness. *** The Black Cliff. Sixteen years ago