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If not for the fact that he still prized his teaching position at the Eden Institute, he would have been handling more important matters at this time.

"Professor?" The projection of Alexa Striker walked up to him. "Master Laila Rebecca Devos wants to have a word with you. She has been waiting outside for several minutes now. Is it convenient for you to meet with her so that you can discuss matters of import?"

Ves glanced carefully at his teaching assistant. Ever since his return from the conference, he had noticed that the young Apprentice Mech Designer conveyed a significantly different vibe from before.

He used to regard her as a bright and intelligent Terran mech designer who managed to get lucky enough to enter the academic track. She was thoughtful, knowledgeable and sociable enough to be an excellent fit for the job.

There had not been any cause for him to think she was more, until today.

Ves had a lot more experience with interacting with first-raters than before. The week he spent at the conference had deeply immersed him into the world of the top first-raters that held considerable sway over human society.

He not only expanded his horizons and got to know a lot of powerful first-raters, but he also became a lot more familiar with their social engineering practices.

Right now, Alexa Striker exhibited various signals and behavioral traits that reminded Ves of the young elites he met during the conference. She had more in common with highborn scions such as Kelly Herrera and Polak Neziri than a woman with a more ordinary Terran background.

Even though every Terran citizen was technically a first-rater, there were still huge gaps between the top and the bottom. First-class citizens could be divided into many subclasses that all shared many similarities with each other while also finding it difficult to move up and down unless exceptional circumstances had occurred.

Ves grew more and more suspicious at Miss Striker\'s actual identity. He was afraid that the Terrans had already marked him out as special long before he unveiled most of his astonishing work at the Survivalist conference.

Was the Eden Institute in on this scheme? Ves found that unlikely. Miss Striker may have been sent by a different Terran organization that developed a deeper interest in him at an earlier date.

Why go through this effort? What were these Terrans after that necessitated the allocation of a young first-class mech designer who likely descended from one of the powerful Terran clans?

Perhaps the Terrans had studied all of the notable battle footage of the Larkinson Clan and developed an interest in glows and battle formations.

That did not sound likely, though. The Rubarthans had access to the same information but never reached out as far as he was aware of. His status as a second-class Senior Mech Designer meant that he still had a lot to prove before his design philosophy and his work earned enough credibility to be eligible for widespread adoption.

There was another possible answer. Alexa\'s interest towards him may be due to shenanigans that occurred during one of his Mastery experiences.

The question now was whether Alexa\'s covert mission had come about due to a Mastery experience that already occurred or one that he was meant to embark upon in the future.

Ves already started to grow a headache as he thought about the latter possibility. The mental burden was too great!

Perhaps it was best to keep it simple. Occam\'s Razor. As far as he knew, there had only been one Mastery experience where he had inhabited the mind of a Terran citizen.

"Axelar of the Streon Ancient Clan." He spoke out loud.

His teaching assistant\'s eyes widened. She did not appear to put up any facade. She exhibited genuine surprise at his outburst, and did nothing to suppress this impulse. She wanted to lay her cards in the open and convey as much sincerity towards him as possible.

Ves turned fully in her direction even as he utilized his cranial implant to look up information on the galactic net.

A partial match. The first name was identical. The last name shared a vague resemblance but was not the same.

Probability of subterfuge substantial. Fake name. The Streon Ancient Clan easily possessed the power to forge a false identity for the young lady.

Visual comparison does not match. Height and built were roughly comparable, but variations in outfits could produce considerably different silhouettes.

The faces shared a closer resemblance. Different applications of makeup as well as subtle facial surgery could easily make a woman indistinguishable from her previous appearance.

Voices did not entirely match either, but specialized training paired with light modifications to vocal chords could easily produce major differences.

Hypothesis. High likelihood that \'Alexa Striker\' was related to his only Mastery experience with a Terran mech pilot. Her reaction to the mention of his name strengthened this possibility.

Hypothesis. \'Alexa Striker\' was a member of the Streon Ancient Clan. Knowledge, wisdom and understanding of Terran high society exceeds what a civilian mech designer should know. Competence is unusually high. Estimated specifications of augmentations likely exceed the range that is attainable by average Terrans. Only a wealthy and established Terran organization could afford this level of training and augmentation.

Hypothesis. \'Alexa Striker\' was Alexa of the Streon Ancient Clan. First name an exact match. Likely chosen to minimize mistakes and avoid long-term identity dissociation. Could be an irrational decision driven by emotions. Serious flaw and vulnerability that could have exposed her deception in advance. Not a professional spy or infiltrator. Calabast would have given her a failing grade.

Alarming observation. Why the hell was Ves thinking like the Polymath? Spent too much time among the Survivalists. Learned and adapted their efficiency-oriented analytical approach. Has clear advantages. Data modeling was superior when compared to his intuition-based approach. Thinking more like a first-rater.

Has clear flaws as well. Polymath\'s downfall was a clear warning about developing an overreliance on observable and recordable data. Intuition not obsolete. One of humanity\'s strongest advantages. Must find a middle ground that could combine advantages of both. Possible future research project. Low priority.

Need to get back on topic. Cannot let uncertainty continue. Must gather facts to confirm or disprove theory.

Ves took a deep breath before he formed a proper sentence. "You are the granddaughter of General Axelar Streon, previously of the Greater Terran United Confederation, now hailing from the Terran Alliance."

Alexa did not show any sign that she intended to deny this accusation. She dropped all pretense of being a weak and diligent teaching assistant. Her demeanor grew more assertive and confident in a way that only highborn scions could convey with perfection.

"You are correct. I am indeed Alexa Streon. I intended to ease you into the truth over your next two classes, but I underestimated your observational skills. Your visit to the Survivalist conference has changed you much more than I expected. I am impressed. May I ask whether you are still open to meeting with Master Laila Devos? It is not polite to keep her waiting."

Ves crossed his arms. "I\'m not interested in talking with the dean at the moment. I am more interested in you and who is behind you. I think this discussion is more important."

Alexa nodded in agreement. "Very well. I have informed Master Laila Devos to return at a later date. Let us hold this discussion in a more appropriate area. Your office is secure enough."

The young lady soon teleported away.

A second later, Ves experienced an illusion of getting teleported. What actually happened was that the Hyper Chamber stopped simulating the lecture hall and instead depicted the much smaller and more cramped office room situated elsewhere on the campus of the Eden Institute.

The woman had already moved to sit down at her usual chair. A warm cup of green tea materialized on the desktop. She lifted up the cup and took a sip, the temperature being exactly right to stimulate her without crowding out the subtle flavors or scalding her tongue.

Ves moved behind his desk and took his seat on a much more luxurious chair than the one in his main office. He needed to do something about that glaring difference. A tier 3 galactic citizen deserved to rest on a better throne.

"How deep does this conspiracy go?" Ves decided to speak up first. "Since when did the Terran Alliance plot against me? How many people are involved in this deception?"

Alexa raised her palm in innocence. "This is not a conspiracy that is targeted against you. I admit that I have not been as forthcoming as I should. I did not want to overwhelm you with my identity or drive you away. I can tell you that this is my own initiative. While I kept my grandfather in the loop, he did not assign me a mission or told me to approach you under an assumed identity. I actually developed an interest in you a few months before you applied for a teaching position at the Eden Institute, but it was only after you sent your application that I intervened and engineered a circumstance that brought us together."

Ves lowered his eyes. He always had a feeling that it was too good to be true. The Eden Institute probably would have rejected his application if not for Alexa\'s secret intervention.

Though the Eden Institute was probably delighted that it had taken him on once he had proven himself, he still found it disappointing that he hadn\'t been able to get hired in the first place by relying on his own merits.

He tried his best not to let his disappointment affect his judgment. He needed to be at the top of his game in order to navigate this delicate situation.

"What is your goal?"

"Nothing nefarious, I can assure you." Alexa spoke as she tried to appear as forthright and reassuring as possible. "My primary goal is to learn how to design a mech like that of my grandfather. Out of my exhaustive search of mech designers that have a record of developing comparable machines, you are at the top of my list. I sought to learn from you. I wanted to understand the secrets that allow you to design your iconic living mechs. My hope is that... if I learned enough from you, I may eventually be able to solve my grandfather\'s problem and loosen his bottleneck."

"What do you mean by that?" Ves frowned.

"My grandfather is famed for piloting the Ouroboros. I am sure you can find many records on this famous ace mech on the galactic net. It has powerful qualities aside from the obvious, but its evolution has reached a bottleneck that prevents it from improving any further. My grandfather believes that it suffers from several major deficiencies that hold it back. I speculate that your design philosophy and some of your design solutions may be able to fill up the gaps. If that is not possible, then I hoped to absorb your teachings and form my own design philosophy that should eventually be able to fulfill one of my ultimate goals."

"I... see. Thank you for being honest. Let me think for a moment."

Ves needed more data. He had made a conscious effort not to look into General Axelar Streon too much due to various reasons. That may have been a mistake.

He began to scour the galactic net about any pertinent information about the famous Terran ace pilot and his celebrated ace mech.

His old work had changed beyond recognition, but it still maintained the essence of the hero mech that he had hastily designed with the help of an autodesigner.

Ves hated the design process of the Ouroboros. It was too automated. He was forced to cut too many corners. He hadn\'t been able to fabricate the mech properly. It shouldn\'t have been a surprise that the poor machine had started out defective.

As Ves studied the footage of the Ouroboros in action, he noticed that as the years went by, its spiritual growth remained stunted for the most part.

It was difficult to glean too many details from archival footage, but Ves could clearly see that the machine had never managed to outgrow its congenital defects.

"What a poor machine..."