I Have Countless Clones Novels & Stories

I'd better have a quick bath before I end up boxing myself unconscious. **** I can't tell how long I have been studying. Yes, if there is one thing that works perfectly well, my brain. My brother and I have got the brains. But his was on another frequency, his brain is like Wi-Fi 7 while mine is still Wi-Fi 5. I was done studying, just playing around with my laptop. An idea crept in: what if I clone Clara's phone? I will get the chance to read her love chat. All her dirty little secrets would be in my palm like a N*****x series.

“I’m not an asset.” She met my eyes. “Neither was I. Until they decided I was.” Damon cursed under his breath. “Clones,” I whispered without meaning to. Liana’s expression hardened. “No. Not clones. That’s too crude. You were engineered variations. Genetic siblings, if you want to simplify it. Designed to survive different outcomes.” My chest felt like it was collapsing inward. “No,” I said again, louder. “That’s not possible. People don’t do that.”

Then express dismissively, "Oh those are our clones, sweetie. They make us money so we can do what we want to do. Like... what we're doing right now, helping people. Or research, studying or traveling without actually having to work a job. Lots of celebrities are witch/wizard clones." She laughs lightly and turns and looks me up and down.

"Probably from Crescent Moon pack. Should we just leave her?" "No." The third voice stopped them cold. "Bring her." They lifted me like I weighed nothing, carrying me deeper into rogue territory than any pack wolf had ever returned from alive. But I was not pack anymore, was I? I was nothing. The Rogue King waited in a clearing that felt older than memory itself. Tall as a tree and twice as dangerous, with scars mapping his face like constellations. When his silver eyes met mine, I saw something I had not seen in days.

"In our world, there are so many powers to the extent that even the blank air gives out powers so why will such a little thing be an issue to us? All I need is a bowl of water, a strand of your hair, and drops of your blood for the ritual which will be carried out by you but under my guidance." "Ritual? What ritual?" Antonia asks begrudgingly dressing her scattered hair. "What better distraction can we give your sisters and mum than you?" "I still don't understand. What are..." Her eyes widen and she gulps when the realization dawned on her cutting off her supposed words and leaving them down her throat. "You want to make a second me?" "It's called a clone. Your clone will serve as a distrac

Every time I hit a roadblock in my work, she'd always say to me, "Marcus, if your cloning research ever succeeds, I want you to clone me before I die. That way, you'll never be alone in this world." At the time, I was deeply moved. I made the same promise to her—that if I died first, I'd leave a clone behind to keep her company. And I actually kept that promise. What I never expected was that my clone would reveal her darkest, most twisted side. Sophie's phone buzzed. It was a new email—from my clone. Her eyes lit up. "Marcus…" But when she opened it, it was a letter from the clone. It read: [Hello, Sophie. I'm Marcus's clone…]

I realized that thousands of Lucases had been cloned beneath the pond, and they were all rising to the surface together! ​Will I be the queen of this hell, or will I lose my existence among these clones? And my father... is he really alive, or is he, too, a mechanical deception? ​The rain of blood turned into a storm. And within the roar of that storm came a hellish laughter—deafening my ears.

The clone’s cold voice whispered into his ear. “Did you really think it was over? I’m not just a copy. I’ve inherited everything, your strength, your memories, your will. And I’m just getting started.” The room pulsed with energy, shadows dancing wildly. Damian struggled, fighting to free himself, but the clone’s grip was unyielding. “You’re not the real Damian,” the clone sneered. “You’ve been fighting your own reflection. But I am the future, an evolution. And I will take what’s mine.”

The absolute worst, most frustrating element was the mindspace itself - that dark realm where my consciousness battled against versions of myself I barely recognized. Every time I closed my eyes in our bed and dropped into that dark, hollow crater with Fenrir and Daekan, the same nightmare awaited me. The eighty percent clone had vanished, yes. But the ninety percent version? That version of myself was an absolute monster… a perfect killing machine that anticipated every move I'd make before I made it, as though it could read the very impulses firing through my neurons.

"Ms. Hart, can you explain how a clone could even be part of this plan? It sounds like something from a science fiction movie." Elena paused and then answered in a simple, honest tone. "It may sound unbelievable, but our investigations uncovered that my father, Richard Hart, had once supported a secret project called 'Project Echo.' The aim was to preserve a person's essence and even create a copy if needed. When my father fell ill, and as betrayal mounted, those in charge used this technology to create a clone of me. This clone was meant to replace me."