Kaldur sank to a crouch, gazing at the face of the Blackadder with a frown.
"Clones? Can such a thing be possible? Our own friend Superboy is proof the technology exists, but on such a scale? The Bestowed were not clones, they displayed gender dimorphism and racial diversity-- independence and individuality despite their demonic hive-mind... but perhaps it is harder to genetically duplicate mystical potential than it is to manufacture cannon-fodder foot soldiers... and you say their combat skills are identical? Could they be programmed? More brainwashing than sentience? ...dare I ask if philosophically they even count as human?"
"Anything is possible these days. But their skills do imply some sort of programming. There was no imagination in their fighting. That was the clue that led me to suspect that something wasn't right with them." Nightwing replied. "It doesn't matter if they were created by a God or man, the moment we start killing we lose any right to call ourselves human." He couldn't believe that he had just said that. It had been hard lessons learned from both his father and Dick. He wasn't afraid of it and knew he could if he had to. But he also knew that there was always another way. "We need to get to the leader. no matter how he made them he has some way of controlling them."