Morad knew he had the clone in a check mate. There was nowhere for him to move, no move he could make that could stop both of them at the same time while defending himself. With the unignited hilt on the clones chest, Morad squeezed a few words out of his choked throat.

"You make.....a move....and I'll.......cut you........in half........."

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Truth, is only what we say it is. What if we're wrong?