Kamino Clone Novels & Stories

"But if we just run, Duncan will hunt you to the ends of the earth. He will bring the entire Council army to the mountains. To keep you safe, the world needs to believe you are gone." He turned back toward the window and whistled softly into the dark. A second Wayne enforcer climbed through the frame, carrying a heavy canvas duffel bag. Without a word, the enforcer unzipped the bag and pulled out a specialized anatomical decoy body. It was a synthetic, medical-grade clone body often used by rogue packs for deep-cover extractions. It perfectly matched Amora’s exact height, her weight, and her general physical structure.

The mines that provided us with our most needed minerals had sat flush against the mountains of the Diarna, and had been the first places attacked and utterly decimated by the shades. "I didn't know they were that hard to come by out there," he said, stopping outside a red curtain. This whole wing had red curtains for doors. "You mean you guys don't have a shortage?" He shook his head. "We have a small mine at one of our other nests. The toxicity keeps the population small, but they get the job done. Aaron, you in?" "Burney? What the hell are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay -"

A double-reinforced vault with retinal scan access. As Chaewon stepped forward. The scanner lit green, access granted and the doors opened. And there she was, the clone. Standing in the center of the room, wearing Chaewon’s wedding gown. The exact same one. “Hello, Chaewon,” she said softly. “I’ve been waiting.” Han raised his gun. The clone didn’t move. Jian stepped in front of Chaewon. “Kang. Where is he?” “He’s already moved,” the clone said. “He doesn’t need this facility anymore.”

“Cloned from a modified genome heavily altered with regenerative cells. She’s a genetic echo.” “She’s me,” Alma whispered. “Or a version of me.” “She’s what Damien was building you to become,” Lena admitted. “An heir. If he couldn’t have the real you, he’d create a perfect version. One he could control.” The cryo chamber began hissing. Roman swore. “EMP pulse must’ve triggered her wake sequence.” The clone’s eyes fluttered open, unnaturally silver. Roman raised his gun. Lena grabbed his wrist. “Don’t. She’s unstable. If you kill her while she’s waking, she’ll go into shock. She could take half the lab with her.”

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."

Alex and Damian became the reluctant leaders of the new provisional government—symbols of survival, the collared pair who had fought through hell and emerged still holding each other. But new threats simmered beneath the surface. The clone program had not been fully destroyed. In the chaos of the final battle, several enhanced duplicates had escaped the labs. They were out there—looking exactly like Damian, programmed with fragments of his memories, but loyal to the old syndicate’s remnants. They moved in the shadows, gathering followers, whispering promises of a restored order. One week after the fleet’s fall, the first clone appeared. It walked into the provisional council meeting wearing

they had the same massive shoulders, the same stature, but their faces were faceless – smooth masks made of black polymer, broken only by one single, horizontal visor flash in which a red light pulsated. Instead of hands their arms ended in organic plasma blades and integrated kinetics runs. “They... they clone you,” Nova was horrified and approached one of the capsules. The red light of the unborn clone apex flickered in the rhythm of her heartbeat. ‘She build a whole army from you.” “Not from me,” Kael grumbled. He approached the central capsule, and his look was

Amy didn’t realize that she was moving her high heel sandals closer to the door. Her feet made subtle movements and every time she’d take a deep breath, her feet would slide closer to the exit. “I created an evil drug lord, masking herself as a CEO. Irena Jenkins was my creation. Did you like her name, Princess Death Row? I thought it would be clever to give you an evil twin who was a drug dealer. I also created monsters inside the game like the albino shape-shifting people who I called the Orexecons and the Boneseeker Men.” The gunman paused for a second, admiring his words again, and waiting for the time to seize his moment.

I said, though my vision swam with exhaustion. “Liar.” A faint smile touched my lips. “You always know.” She tried to smile back but couldn’t. “You think she’ll come for us?” I looked out through the broken window — the horizon still glowing faintly orange. “No. She won’t need to. She’s already winning.” “What do you mean?” “The clones,” I said quietly. “They’re not soldiers — they’re seeds. She’ll scatter them across the world. Each one designed to infiltrate, adapt, and replicate. She’s not building an army. She’s building a new species.”

The bay doors opened as the marines take in the luscious scenery of forests, oceans, and mountains. Some of them took off their helmets as the vast scenery of Ren'veil swept the hearts of each warrior, as though they had fallen in love for the first time. One of Kent's close allies and friends aboard the Night Hawk, Clayton Carmive, is the Resident muscle of the Strike team. He often wore a Generation 4 Tactical Knight armor – Heavy Herculio. Like Rex's suit, it is also equipped with jump-kit boosters, gravity boots, and a grappling hook gun. The suit can be compared to a behemoth in terms of size due to its base design was derived from the heavy knights during Terran Age 2942 in Xheronian t