(Note: A brief amount of exposition. This story takes place in a slightly more sci-fi version of our reality. The only major known invention that comes into play is the cloaking device (allowing oneself to look like anyone else). This device does not actually appear, but needs to be known for one small section to make sense).
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A gruff man entered the only non-vacant apartment on the 31st floor of a metropolitan residential building. Disheveled from a long week of work, the man quickly kicked off his shoes and leaned against his kitchen counter for a breath. Being it was Friday, you would expect a 24 year-old man of his caliber to be out on the town with friends or coworkers. However, shocking as it may be, this was actually a normal end-of-the-week for Capt. Logan Logan. Yes, he has the same first and last name.
Logan Logan has always had a standoffish personality. His everlasting seriousness tied with his fear of failure or rejection has always kept him away from bonding with others. Despite being respected at his work at a top secret government facility, this respect did not carry over to camaraderie. But to Logan, this respect was enough to fill his pride and ego. He did not need the affection of others as long as his pride remained. And prideful he was. While not necessarily a serial narcissist, Logan believed he had a perfect body, voice, and skillset that put him above anyone else. No one was a competition to Logan, which kept him at ease.
Logan slipped out of his clothes and into the shower. The hot water felt nice on his head of short hair. He rubbed his muscles with soap and water while getting mildly horny. It was proven to Logan time and time again that no one could satisfy Logan's lust except his own hand. While masturbating under the warm drizzle, he thought of some of his crushes at work. Deeply in the closet and a victim of internalized homophobia, Logan tried to think about women, but could only think about muscular men. The only man he could think of however, was himself. This weirded Logan out to the point that he stopped masturbating preemptively and got out of the shower.
After drying off, Logan returned to his room, where he put on a white, form-fitting t-shirt, black trunks that outlined his bulge, and white crew socks. Aiming for a glass of water in the kitchen, Logan stopped in his tracks when traveling through the living room. In front of the TV was a tall, rectangular cardboard box that was not present prior to Logan's shower.
"Who's there!?" he threatened. As a member of a secret agency, he was always ready for intruders that may want to steal classified information. Steadily and cautiously, he motioned towards the box, a wooden bat from underneath the couch in hand. Tapping the box, the cardboard fell, showing that there was something inside the box, and that the cardboard was not readily attached. What was inside appeared to be a metal locker with a slight blue light shining through three narrow slits. Completely dumbfounded as to what this could be, or where it came from, Logan looked through the slit. He saw nothing, but jumped back when the locker made a *ding* sound.
Ready with the bat, Logan stood as the locker opened up, and a figure stepped out from the light. A muscular man with short hair stepped out, silent. Logan dropped his bat from shock when he realized who he was looking at. It was himself. An exact replica of Logan, wearing the exact same clothing.
Coming to his senses, Logan yelled at the double "You can't fool me. I know about those cloaking devices. I am a trained agent. Take off your disguise now!"
The other Logan looked just as confused. "What is... going on?" He looked back at the locker, and then back at Logan. "Where... did you come from? What is this thing?" Logan leered, not falling for any tricks. "Great show dude, now drop the act or I'll attack."
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Clone Royale
Science FictionA man full of conceit meets the only possible people who can match him in that regard.