“Boss?” a voice called.

“What?” Said another.

“Do we initiate the cloning process?”

“Yes,” he said, looking at the machine humming with activity. The room was dimly lit, illuminated only by the flickering screens of the device.

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“Alright, all systems go. With the material duplicated through pistons and carpet dispensers, molded with iron and copper, three masks emerged: fury, sorrow, and content.”

The masks shone under the machine’s lights. Fury was fierce and sharp, Sorrow smooth and melancholic, and Content calm and serene.

“Now we just need to train them. Remember, they’re like infants; they don’t know anything yet.”

Music began playing in the background, specifically, “I’m Still Standing,”.

He led the masks to the training grounds, a vast area filled with various training equipment. The place was bustling, filled with the sounds of clashing weapons and grunts of effort. There, the masks trained for weeks, learning the skills and knowledge they needed.

Each day followed a rigorous routine. They started with physical training, learning to move with agility and precision. They practiced combat techniques, mastering the use of various weapons. They were taught strategy and tactics, how to think critically and make quick decisions.

Despite the intense training, they remained unaware of their true purpose