Infinite Shadow Clones Mastery! Chapter 4: The Couch Commander.

Chapter 4: The Couch Commander.

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Ray was back on his couch, right where he belonged. The TV was on, Amor en Llamas was paused mid-dramatic close-up, and a bag of chips sat nestled in his lap. He took a deep breath, savoring the quiet comfort of his apartment. The chaos of the Chitauri invasion felt like a distant nightmare, though the memories of his decoy clone’s experiences were still fresh in his mind.

He had left one of his clones behind to act as the “original” Ray the moment the Avengers discovered him. It was a brilliant move, if he did say so himself. While the decoy helped with the cleanup, ate shawarma with Earth’s mightiest heroes, and fielded their endless questions, the real Ray had slipped away unnoticed. Now, as the decoy dissolved itself after parting ways with the Avengers, its memories flooded back to him.

Ray leaned back, processing the clone’s experiences. The cleanup had been exhausting—lifting debris, helping injured civilians, and dealing with the Avengers’ constant curiosity. The decoy had even managed to hold a conversation with Tony Stark, which was no small feat. But the highlight, apparently, had been the shawarma.

“Shawarma,” Ray muttered, his stomach growling in protest. “Of course the clone got to eat shawarma with the Avengers, and I’m stuck here with stale chips.”

He sighed, then paused. Wait. The clone had eaten shawarma. That meant his clones could eat. And talk. And apparently hold their own in a conversation with Tony freaking Stark.

Ray sat up, intrigued. He had never tested the limits of his clones’ abilities. Sure, they could clean and cook, but eating? Talking? That opened up a whole new world of possibilities.

“Alright,” he said, setting the bag of chips aside. “Let’s see how far this goes.”

He performed the hand seals and created a new clone. It materialized in front of him, identical in every way except for the blank expression.

“Speak,” Ray commanded. “And be honest.”

The clone blinked, then looked him dead in the eye. “You suck as a human being.”

Ray stared at it for a moment, then waved his hand dismissively. The clone dissolved into smoke.

“Okay, too honest,” he muttered. “Let’s try that again.”

He created another clone. This one looked nervous.

“Uh, hi,” it said, glancing around. “So, uh, how honest do you want me to be? Because I’m kind of afraid you’ll destroy me if I say the wrong thing.”

Ray considered this. “Be 50% frank.”

The clone nodded, then looked around the apartment. “You’re getting lazy, you know. Having all these clones do everything for you. It’s unhealthy. You should get out more. Socialize. Maybe even exercise.”

Ray scoffed. “You sound like my mother.”

The clone shrugged. “Maybe she was right.”

Ray glared at it. The clone raised its hands defensively.

“Hey, you said 50% frank. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

Ray sighed. “Fine. But I’m not taking advice from a clone.”

The clone hesitated, then said, “You know, I don’t actually know what happens when I die. Like, do I just… stop existing? Or is there some kind of afterlife for clones?”

Ray raised an eyebrow. “You just return to me. But if you’re unlucky, you might meet a God who’ll transmigrate you to a dangerous world where you’ll experience the Dr. Phil version of a self-intervention.”

The clone shuddered. “That sounds terrifying.”

“Yeah, well, life’s tough,” Ray said, then dissolved the clone with a wave of his hand.

He created a third clone. This one didn’t say anything at first. It just walked over to the couch, grabbed the bag of chips, and plopped down next to him.

“Sup,” it said, propping its feet up on Ray’s lap.

Ray stared at it. “What are you doing?”

The clone clicked play on the remote, and the telenovela resumed. “Watching TV. What does it look like?”

Ray grabbed the bag of chips and threw the clone’s feet off his lap. “You’re awfully chill for a clone.”

The clone shrugged. “We’re the same person, remember? I’m just the version of you that doesn’t overthink things.”

Ray narrowed his eyes but didn’t argue. They sat in silence for a while, watching the telenovela and occasionally sharing their frustrations at the leading lady’s poor life choices.

When the episode ended, Ray turned to the clone. “Alright, last words?”

The clone thought for a moment. “Not really. I mean, I got to watch the telenovela. That’s all I wanted.”

Ray raised an eyebrow. “You’re not afraid of being destroyed?”

The clone laughed. “We’re the same person, remember? I know you’re not actually going to hurt me. Besides, I’m satisfied with my existence.”

Ray fist-bumped the clone. “My man.”

He was about to dismiss the clone when it suddenly spoke up. “Oh, wait. I do have one thing to add.”

Ray sighed. “What is it?”

“You need to learn how to fight,” the clone said. “You can’t always rely on swarming the enemy. Sooner or later, you’re going to run into someone who can handle your clones. You need to get stronger.”

Ray frowned. “And how do you propose I do that?”

The clone rolled its eyes. “Use your pretty little head. This is the Marvel universe. There are a million ways to get stronger. You could train, find powerful artifacts, or even learn from the Avengers. With our powers, you could learn what takes people years in months—or even days. And if you’re too lazy to do it yourself, send the clones. They can search for artifacts, infiltrate dangerous places, or even steal from powerful people. Death can’t stop us, remember?”

Ray’s eyes widened as realization dawned on him. “Ohhh. I could save the world from my couch. Without having to socialize with anyone.”

The clone nodded. “Exactly.”

Ray grinned. “You’re a genius. You’re officially my number one clone assistant.”

The clone suddenly looked terrified. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I’m not the doing type. I was created from your lazy side. I’m just here to chill.”

Ray smirked. “Too bad. You don’t have a choice.”

The clone panicked, grabbed a nearby fork, and stabbed itself in the neck. It dissolved into smoke before Ray could stop it.

Ray fell to his knees, clutching his chest dramatically. “Noooo! My best self-friend! Why?!”

His stomach growled, interrupting his melodramatic moment. He stood up, brushing himself off. “Alright, fine. I forgot to eat in all the excitement.”

He created another clone and pointed to the kitchen. “Make me shawarma.”

The clone gave him a clueless look but obeyed. Ray sat back down, chuckling to himself. “That fool killed itself without seeing the conclusion to the cliffhanger. What a waste.”

He grabbed the remote and started the next episode of Amor en Llamas. As the dramatic music swelled, he added, “But at least it gave me an idea. I’ll become the strongest hero in Marvel. Right after I finish this episode.”

And with that, Ray settled back into his couch, content to let the world wait while he caught up on his telenovelas.