Romans & histoires Homeless Clone Trooper

The rogue clone jumped into the driver’s seat, tires screaming as she tore out of the blackened circle of the bungalow. As they hurtled through the rain-slicked streets of the city, the clone reached into her vest and pulled out a small, encrypted tablet. She tossed it into Maya’s lap. "My name is Seven," the clone said. "Or at least, that’s what’s etched into my bone marrow. There were twelve of us in the Delta batch. I’m the only one left who hasn't had a total neural reset."

The building was about to blow. “How do we get out?” Maya asked, limping toward her copy. The clone looked at her, then reached into her own chest and pulled out a small, glowing blue crystal—her heart. “There’s only one escape pod left,” the clone said. “It only opens for a Rossi heartbeat. But I don’t have a real heart, Maya. Just this battery.” She pressed the crystal into Maya’s hand. “If you put this in your ankle, where the spider was, you’ll have enough power to move through space. You’ll be back at the safe house in a second.”

The black-clad man almost hadn't seen him because of how short he was! Ambrose's little face was calm, and he stood there with his back straight. His beautiful eyes were sharp and cold, and the perfect curve of his lips was impassive. There was a tiny sound from outside the window, and Max slipped in from outside. "Mr. Hamilton, they really came for you!" Ambrose said in a low voice. "It's a clone." "What?" Max's expression changed subtly. "The Twilight Group succeeded in their experiments?" "No." Ambrose shook his head. "This is a defective product with a limited survival time. It can only be used as a mindless humanoid murder weapon."

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*."

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.

Janus’s men clung to my legs. “STOP IT, TREVOR!” they exclaimed. “We’re not here to kill innocent lives. ENOUGH!” The biggest fighter held down my leg. With his brute strength, he pushed me down to the ground and kept the homeless man alive and unharmed from my claws. The others followed and pinned my limbs. I was unable to move. I struggled against these fighters. With frustration gnawing at me, I shouted. “How can you be easily deceived by this brute?! Surely Melina is hiding somewhere! Didn’t you hear what Roger told us?! Melina could be here!”

Its location was surrounded by sheer cliffs and dense foliage on all sides, almost like a natural fortress that was nearly impossible to penetrate. Marcus slipped inside, blending into the darkness. The sound of his footsteps was muffled by the soft, damp earth. He found Ronan waiting for him. With little time to spare, Marcus approached Ronan, ignoring the bleak state of the camp. The situation was truly bleak; not even a single campfire had been lit to keep them warm. This was to avoid taking any risks that might reveal their position to the Frostholm Pack. As a result, they treated their wounds with the biting cold that pierced through them.

I had not even a penny to my name because all I thought of was being a perfect wife and Luna to Declan. "You don't have anywhere else to go, do you?" Tristan asked. I hesitated, “Yes.” "Seeing how you are not ready to talk about what happened to you or why you are homeless, I won't question it and I will allow you to stay here. In return, you will pretend to be my Luna and when you give birth to the baby growing in you, he will be mine," he proposed. He was willing to take responsibility for the child that wasn't his? I couldn’t believe my ears.

Glimpses of the side characters of His mania ----------------- Hey everyone, hope you remember Trevor our dear third in command of our dominant hero AIDEN, so let's see what he thinks about the situation. TREVOR POV… I am Trevor, with no surname, I don't even know who is my sperm donner and my infant body carrier. I was a dirt for them, who left me on the street. But today I am not a nobody I am Trevor, who has everything a man could ever desire, women who throw themselves on me, money, cars, everything, still I feel incomplete.

A small blue light was released into her and she gasped before fainting. I can’t believe it. Syria was a traitor. I searched the crowd for Brock but I can’t find him. I try to mindlink him but I couldn’t sense him anywhere nearby. It was like he just disappeared. Gritting my teeth, I looked down at the ground when I see a pair of black leather boots stop in front of me. I looked up and “Hybrid,” he mutters as if the very word was venom in his mouth. He glares down at me with the same look in his eyes since I got here, and I can’t help but wonder why.