“You do it.”
“No. You go and do it.”
“Why do I have to go? I’m the real one. You’re the clone, so follow my orders!”
“What are you saying!? You’re the clone! Stop saying bullshit!”
“To think I built the Cloning Machine and created you, my clone, to avoid Anthemia’s training, just to have you pretend to be the real … Stop fucking around and go to the training! It’s an order!”
“As if! You’re the one who’s pretending to be ! And that hellish training!? I’d rather eat the remains of a zombie excreted by a colossal rat than spend a single more minute training!”
Two identical n shout at each other, fingers pointed accusingly. From the whiskers at the tip of their snouts, to the stitches on the neck, to the darkened claw-like hands, to even the clothes they’re wearing… The two n are identical.
They glare at each other, and electricity starts flowing around their hands.
Then, a third man intervenes between them, pulling them apart. He, too, looks identical to the other two.
“Who are you to say this? You’re both clones, so shut up both of you and go to the training. I don’t care who or how you choose, just do it.”
“You’re calling a clone, clone?”
“You two are the clones, not !”
The three engage in a verbal battle to decide who’s the clone, and who’s real, completely losing track of the original reason they were arguing in the first place.
“That’s it. I’ve had enough.”
“ too.”
“Yeah, enough!”
“““I’m the real , so I’m the strongest. I’ll prove it by defeating you two, hahaha!””” The three shout at the sa ti, before lunging forward.
Lighting flies everywhere, followed by frost blasts and light beams. They don’t mind using everything at their disposal to demonstrate they’re the real ones, and that the others are re clones.
Fragnts of tal and wood from the broken furniture fly everywhere, accompanied by light flashes and explosions.
“You fucking clone…!”
“I’m not the clone, you’re the clone!”
“Shut up, my clones!”
Finally, when their bodies are as much of a ss as their surroundings, the three stop for an instant and glare at each other. They know they won’t achieve anything like this, so it’s ti to take out the big guns.
“““Dieeee!”””
Light starts coming from their bodies. It charges up for a few seconds until it bursts forward.
The light expands with an explosion, obliterating everything in its path. When it fades out, there’s just one of the three n standing; the other two lie dead on the ground.
“Fufufu! Hahaha! See!? I’m the strongest one, which ans I’m the real one! Now, you clones go and train under Anthemia’s guidance…!”
The survivor suddenly stops talking, looking around him. He stares at the two dead ‘clones’ before turning his head towards the broken Cloning Machine. Then, he drops to his knees, despair etched on his face.
“Ah, shit… I guess I’ll have to go and do it myself… Sigh! All this work for nothing…”
This clever montage, achieved through the clever use of cara tricks and AI, inspired by what Andreu saw in the Hellschool dungeon, took the community by surprise at the ntion of the na ‘Anthemia’.
He was very happy with his video’s success… until Marta saw it. This wasn’t the first ti, nor the last, that Andreu regretted his actions.
‘I’m s-sorry. I won’t do it again! Please, spare … Training, no more… Ugh…! S-sobody, help…!’
Andreu didn’t touch the ‘Cloning Machine’ ever again. Just in case.
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