Brass Eagle peered down the corridor, wary of any sudden traps or alarms. Mug did his best to keep quiet, though his footsteps boomed throughout the hallway.

They stepped into another hall, this one full of floating clones, drifting up and down in their confines. Brass Eagle looked ever sharper, watching for anything that might come their way.

“C’mon,” he said, motioning to Mug. “All clear.”

Mug nodded and followed him. They walked cautiously, step by step, one foot in front of the other. Mug jumped.

“Eagle?” he whined, almost sounding like a toddler who comes in to his parents’ bedroom after a nightmare. “Did that one—move?”

“If it did, we better get out of here,” Eagle said, and increased his pace a little bit.

But it wasn’t enough. Every tank burst open, spilling its contents all over the white tiles of the hall. In a huge, seething mass, every clone rushed towards Mug and Eagle.