Gregor Clone Trooper Novels & Stories

She spun toward the jet, every movement sharp, almost electric. “The Queen is weak!” the clone screamed, her voice crackling like a broken radio. “She gives the power away! We’ll take it back!” The “glitched” clones started running at Julian, but not like normal people. They moved in jagged jumps, flickering in and out, like a video skipping frames. “Get to the jet!” Julian yelled. He slogged out of the water, boots heavy with wet sand.

I fought against the restraints, but they held tightly. “I already said this before…you new gen wolves are dumb,” she muttered. Before I could respond, her form shifted again. This time—it wore my face. “I’ll do well to send my regards to your father,” my clone said, leaving me fighting the shadows as he walked away. ********

We also lost the packlands as they were destroyed beyond repair, and with me being the oldest Alpha family member left, the remaining pack members turned to me for guidance, and I took on the role even if it went against every fiber of my being. So yes, I may have got my wish to not live on pack lands and become a Rogue, but my life is nothing like I planned. Instead of being free to be me, I'm now responsible for over 80 pack members and absolutely hate it. I even offered the role to Johnny, but he doesn't want the responsibility, and I don't blame him, but neither do I.

Made Jes's heart warm. Adam stepped back, carrying Jes casually. Looks like Jes weight is not much for him, very light. There was no look on his face that looked tired or any sign of wanting to complain. Even though Adam carried Jes from the ground floor to the third floor and did not use the elevator. Adam climbed the stairs one by one.

Thomas I nodded and smiled as he got himself kitted up and ready for the fight. Thomas I was the ultimate clone. He was the first successful experiment with even more strength than Thomas II. Everything else was the same with both clones except for speech. Thomas I could speak. He was the machine the president boasted of. Formed from different DNAs of werewolves of the past, he birthed thousands of other clones like him except for Thomas II who was formed from Tom. Thomas I’s siblings had no speech but they did have the same strength as he did. Thomas I had super speed and never got exhausted so he ran to the mainlands on foot wearing his gadgets for the war.

CLOVER The short cut was very narrow and eerily quiet. My skin crawled and the hairs on my neck stood at attention. Since I was the strongest here, me being a Luna, my senses were higher. As we went deeper, I could feel something watching from the trees, “ Hey...we’re being watched. Don’t panic or else they’ll attack. These rogues have lost their senses so they rely on sounds and body language. They’re extremely irrational and unpredictable so try to stay calm and don’t look them in the eyes” I said quietly and they nodded in response.

Adrian said, stepping forward. “You don’t understand,” the clone replied, tone almost sympathetic. “I am not your enemy. I am what you were meant to become.” Adrian’s finger hovered over the trigger. “Then you’ll die proving you’re not.” He fired. The bullet struck the clone square in the chest — but instead of falling, the replica staggered, then steadied himself. Beneath his suit, glowing threads pulsed like veins of light, repairing the damage. Lena’s breath hitched. “They’ve integrated nanotech.”

Not before making sure to record it for future reference, mind you. As the projectile and the clone were getting closer to their intended target, the clone decided that it was time to make its move. With its wires still attached to the projectile, the clone allowed itself to lift off of the back of the projectile. It only took a split second for the wires to go fully taut, following which the clone's body used the recoil of the wires to launch its body towards the projectile. If a person was able to observe the clone's body from up close, they would realize that there was a blackish aura gathered around the right foot of the clone that looked as if it was a stomp towards the projectile. They

The doppelgängers wake. They're not mimics. They're *upgrades*. --- **The Perfections** The Kelly clone moves first, her static a controlled storm, her eyes glowing with the Arbor Prime's green light. "You're flawed. Let us fix you." The Hunter clone phases through solid matter, his roots razor-sharp. "You'll thank us later." The Kael clone aims a rifle forged from pure entropy. "Stand still. This'll sting." Veyra and I retreat, but the garden shifts, walls of thorns cutting off escape. The Custodian watches, bored. "This is why we use clean templates. Organics are so... *messy*."

"This is a rogue pack. We run by our own rules here. The rest of our kind have all kicked us out, shunned us from their traditions so here we are." "How do I trust you? I've seen what your kind has done. All those people you've killed." His eyes harden as he stared at me. "Look, we're not the only rogue pack out here. I can tell you that we are not the savage kind. We have killed a few hunters over the past few years but not recently." "It's a lot to take in," I said and he nodded as he stood up. "I'll someone come and bring you food until I'm certain that you won't try to run or harm us," he said before he left the room.