Glitch Clone Trooper Novels & Stories

"It uses our own Resonance against us! The harder we hit it, the stronger the reflection becomes!" ​Leo stood still as his glass-clone approached. It was a perfect replica of his amber-etched form, its eyes glowing with a cold, synthetic orange. ​"You are a glitch, Leo Vane," the clone said, its voice a haunting, shimmering echo of his own. "A flaw in the glass. We are the perfection your father envisioned." ​Leo didn't strike. He remembered Silas’s lesson in the Labyrinth: Zero-Out. He closed his eyes and retracted his claws. He let the amber light in his runes fade to a dull, charcoal gray.

I hate Michelle Grande! My fists are clenched, teeth gritted, anger in my head. Okay Arietta, don't so something stupid, think about something that will calm your nerves. Think about Mitchell Grande being ran over by a truck. No a train is better, think about that and also picture yourself there to witness his tremendous death! I breath in and smiled at the beautiful and nerve calming image in my head.

After Jes entered, he could not see Jeslyn and Sisca's movements because the CCTV did not reach Sisca's bedroom. "You're right, Dave!" He said with a tone full of emphasis. Her gaze was sharp and straight, her jaw stiffened. His teeth were grinding inside. While his hands were tightly clenched. This was the first time he had the wrong target with the wrong guess. He was easily fooled by Jeslyn. Even though he could easily spot the enemy who was pretending to be dead even if they held their breath even. "We go back to the mansion!" Adam's orders. No one protested or asked about it. They just obeyed, turning the car back to the mansion.

The one who had his legs knocked from under him face plants into the dirt, the back half of him smacking the other one in the head. Neither of them gets up right away, which gives me a chance to pounce. I leap onto the nearest one, who’s lying face down in the dirt, and sink my claws into the back of his neck. It’s not as effective as it would be if I had the front of him, but I can still kill him this way. My fangs sink into his flesh, and I rip away, pulling flesh. He yelps and tries to get away from me, but I give him a good shake and hold him with my claws. It’s clear he’s much weaker than I am, probably because rogues have a hard time finding meals for the most part. Technically, I supp

“Don’t shoot. If he’s coded to me, your weapon could trigger his defense sequence.” The clone stopped midway. He looked at Damon with something almost curious. Then he lifted his hand in a slow mirror of Damon’s earlier movement. Damon whispered, “He’s copying me.” Aleksander tensed. “If he copies your fighting style we won’t survive a direct confrontation.” The clone opened his mouth for the first time. His voice came out as a flat, cold version of Damon’s own. “Primary target identified.” My chest tightened. Damon didn’t move. “Secondary target detected,” the clone continued.

Faith saw it, a small, mechanical chip implanted at the base of the clone’s skull. “Control chips,” Leo shouted. “Vane isn't just growing them; he’s remote-controlling their nervous systems!” Suddenly, the clone’s expression went from curious to lethal. Her silver eyes turned a dark, angry red. She let out a scream that sounded like digital static and lunged at Faith. The lab exploded into chaos. Killian shifted mid-air, his massive silver-grey wolf slamming into three clones at once. He was careful not to use his claws. He knew these girls were victims, but he had to use his sheer strength to keep them away from Faith.

Its fundamental logic encountered a paradox it could not resolve. Alarms erupted throughout the ruins. The main display flooded with corrupted code. The forced reboot progress bar stalled permanently at forty-nine percent. Alexander stood beside her. His massive frame remained motionless. He looked at the woman who had crushed her own hand and shattered every chain meant to bind her. The violent blood surging through his body reached its peak. The system crashed. The biochemical suppression program restraining his mutated genes collapsed completely. The clone’s eyes snapped open. Pitch-black pupils radiated something inhuman.

Marco's voice was weak. The doctor suddenly dropped to his knees with a thud. "Don Vitale, the surgery successfully separated you, but… because of the earlier tearing and the chemical burns, the damage to the erectile tissue is severe." "Speak plainly!" "In the future… you may not be able to achieve a normal erection…" Silence fell like death. Marco's face shifted from pale to twisted with rage. Ruined? He, the mighty mafia Don, had been crippled by a woman with a bottle of glue?!

the Clone screamed. The Overseer triggered a corrupted update. The soft white aurora turned a sickly, bruised black. Grief became a weaponized blight, a digital cancer that began to eat the station's integrity. The glass floor cracked. The souls above began to scream in a frequency that made Aradaa’s ears bleed. "You think you’re being a hero?" the Clone spat, but his face shifted. The arrogance vanished. "Wait. The blight... it’s not the Overseer. It’s the Architect’s fear. It’s a manifestation of his own terror of dying."

“Don’t worry, Christopher and Angelo have gone to fetch them. We need to get you as far away from here as possible.” “I’m not leaving until I see Marla.” Seemingly dejected, he temporarily gave up his persuasion and focussed on getting Douglas on call instead. “Douglas, we’ve been tricked.” He said. “They’ve attacked us here. We need more people here right now!” “What do you mean tricked?” April asked in surprise. “Uh..” He stammered. “Now is not the time to explain things-” “Marla,” I mumbled as my eyes caught a figure coming toward us.