Fabian, his brow furrowed in curiosity, turned his attention to Luke. The latter had been observing the various weapons on display, his eyes reflecting the glinting steel and polished wood. "So, what'll it be for you? A sword, a bow, perhaps something more exotic?" Fabian inquired, his voice echoing in the vast armory.
Luke, his fingers tracing the edge of a nearby table, pondered. His eyes drifted over the assortment of weapons. His gaze was thoughtful, almost introspective, as he considered his options.
His eyes then settled on Fabian. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I think I'll go for a Flyssa," he said, his tone confident but not arrogant.
Erik, standing a few feet away, couldn't help but chuckle at Luke's choice. He'd expected nothing less from his clones.
They shared more than just appearances; they shared skills and preferences too.