nsel didn't even flinch. His composure was so absolute that Sarah, watching from the control ro

was whisked away

ting... Calibration succe

anted this nightmare to be over. Rory pouted, disappointed that the s

ntic scroll of data on the m

reat hall. Every eye w

ared, written in b

solemn, synthesized voice echoing through the hall. It was a protocol that on

ns. A perfect match

froze. A perfect

r and resonant. "Matching subject: Anse

lassification: Tier-8 Alpha. Titl

a nuclear bomb detona

rity guards-stopped what they were doing. They sta

in awe. "The youngest general in Imperi

that's the pinnacle of th

He stared at the screen, co

horror. "No... impossible!" she shrieked, her voice cracking. "The sys

red her outburst, delivering

ibility

ndred

e, collective shock. A 100% match was a theoretical possibility, a myth from the history books. It ha

bbed the wall for support, his legs threatening to give out. He seized Rory's shoulders

e kept re-running the diagnostic, her hands

t all, Ansel Greer sat

dcast. He had seen th

no excitement. Only a flicker

furrowing slightly. This was not part of the pla

hall was broken by a risi

ho is this Ansel Greer? I've

rupt, washed-up noble house?

of a moment ago was a distant memory, replaced by glorious, intoxicating pride. Ro

analyzer

n in the Bureau. Sarah stared at the new stream

so violently that her chair crashed to th

ell silent

rembling hand covering her mouth. "Th

lowly lifted her head. Even Ansel

peak, the announcemen

fect match

ibility