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
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