Snow frowned. 'I don't want to believe a word he says, but that could explain a lot of things.'
Isolde pressed her palm on Mr. Manhattan's face, and her eyes gleamed with violet light.
Mr. Manhattan's eyes turned violet. His face paled, and he trembled as Isolde pierced into his mind.
She went deeper, filtering through all of the true Mr. Manhattan's memories until she got to when he was made.
She stood there in a translucent form as Cain, a dark-haired man, molded a human-size figure out of white clay. She looked around and saw an endless number of human-sized sculptures and monsters.
Men, women, children, even babies and very old men. Isolde couldn't believe her eyes. Cain's clones could be in tens of thousands, and after lots of reproduction, their numbers had multiplied greatly.
