Kamino Clone Novels & Stories

she asked, not wanting to believe it was possible, but she didn’t see any alternative either, what with the dragon being gone and having not taken off from the mountain behind him. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” he said, folding his arms across his muscular chest again. “I’m Slate Everclaw. I come from a long line of shifter dragons. We used to occupy the land where your kingdom and the other eleven are now located, before we were robbed of our most precious treasure, one that allowed my people to withstand the human threats that were slowly encroaching on our lands. Without the gem, my kind cannot transform without the moon in the sky. So… we were forced to take to the mountains. We

USER sends 1000 diamonds to the streamer. USER sends 1000 diamonds to the streamer. USER sends 1000 diamonds to the streamer. USER sends 1000 diamonds to the streamer. It keeps on flooding their conversation, and Sam doesn't have any choice this time. The man rips his thin clothes as he is witnessing a perfectly fitted muscular body. His jaws nearly drop, seeing those on the screen of his laptop. [Why are you stunned? Do you like this body of mine?] it types his message as Sam, on the other hand, pulls himself together.

Not if I want to stay alive. This place is not like a prison but more like a dump site for people who have nowhere else to be sent. Even dogs can't live the way we do, yet we do. I let out a breath my stomach grumbling. I haven't eaten since yesterday and I have no money. “Boss,” Juno calls looking around holding a white package. I met him the first days of being here and if it wasn't for him I would already be dead. “What is that?” I ask stepping towards him.

She looked at it, then looked at Faith. “Sister,” the clone whispered. Her voice was an exact match for Faith’s. “I’m not your enemy,” Faith said, stepping around Killian. She held out her hand, palms up, showing she wasn't a threat. “Vane is using you. He wants to turn you into a weapon.” The clone blinked. For a second, the silver in her eyes softened. But then, a sharp, red pulse glinted in the back of her neck. Faith saw it, a small, mechanical chip implanted at the base of the clone’s skull.

So she node again, she is not in position to ask any question. "After you clear your exam we are going to set some rules and if you break any of the rule wifey believe me you don't like the consequence " Allen node again "Words" "y-ye-es" "Good" he kiss Allen forehead and continue to eat his own breakfast. 'God what I did my past life to deserve all this'

Losing Arturo was not the end — it was the spark. The holo-screen flickered to life, showing the cracked face of an old contact — someone from the shadows, someone with new weapons, new alliances. “We have the resources,” the contact said quietly. “Not just guns and men. Something… unprecedented.” Valeria’s eyes sharpened. “Explain.” “Cloning tech. Advanced. You think Bain’s team stopped the last factory? They only scratched the surface. We’ve secured facilities in places no one dares look.” She smiled, cold and calculating. “They think they can destroy me. But they’ve only forced my hand.”

“Think again. I hate all of you just as much as you hate me. I am the Luna of Nicholas Klain. My soulmate.” I raised a hand toward Lucas, who had gone eerily silent yet made no move to stop me. “And this phony king?” I let out a mocking laugh. “He’ll never be anything more than a thorn at my side.” The crowd gaped at me in disbelief, but I continued without missing a beat. “Nicholas Klain is coming,” I declared, my voice echoing through the room. “And when he does, every single one of you will regret ever existing.”

There was uncertainty in her eyes, something fragile, but she did not move away. She nodded. That was enough. For now. "You're mine too... you understand that, right?" she replied softly, her voice deeper than before, mimicking his . Kane let out a low chuckle. "Yeah, princess. I'm yours too." ⸻ The city streets were still damp from the storm the night before, the air cool and clean. Kane's black Aston Martin rolled to a smooth stop in front of Mona's apartment building. She played with the hem of his t shirt before turning toward him.

I open the bag. A key glints in my palm. Old-fashioned, heavy, not a practical key at all—one of those glossy, romantic replicas, long neck, ornate head cut into a heart if you tilt it, into a blade if you don't. A tiny metal tag hangs from black thread: MINE on one side, TO KEEP on the other. The room tilts. Sound drops out to a pinpoint. The kettle clicks in the kitchen; I'd forgotten I'd put it back on. My phone buzzes with a calendar ping. The spreadsheet waits on my screen.