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Ryan Brock froze mid–swig, the water bottle hovering at his mouth. His Holoband lit up like a warning flare. He set the bottle down, stalked into his private room, and slammed the door hard enough to make the bulkhead hum.Â
The air turned heavy, as though the room itself waited for impact.Â
“Uh… what’s up with Ryan?” Soren Goodman muttered, leaning toward the kid whose skull pendant swung from his hoodie. “Pressure just dropped. My knees nearly buckled. Go check on him–you’re his favorite.”Â
Bruce Kade shot him a flat look. “You want me dead, just say it. I’ll save you the trouble and drop right here.”Â
Soren forced a grin. “I’m worried, okay? You’re young, you get away with more.”Â
“I’m young, not suicidal. You saw that look–step into that blast zone yourself if you’ve got a death wish. I’m keeping my head right where it is.” Bruce hit the console, cutting the music dead.Â
Silence instantly crashed over the room, heavy and absolute.Â
No one even twitched.Â
Inside the room, Ryan drove a fist into the reinforced wall. “Forced match,” he growled. “Forced. Match.”Â
Thirty–six was far too young to get shackled by legislation. He paced in tight circles. “The Match Bureau still exists? What do my tax credits fund–an antique museum?”Â
He pictured marching into the agency and torching the servers.Â
Bunch of paper–pushing fossils, he thought. They cash checks just to wreck people’s lives. I don’t even want a girlfriend, and now I’ve got a registered wife burned into my records.Â
Heat simmered low in his chest, with nowhere to go. The rules were clear: once the match was certified, the man couldn’t withdraw. Only the woman could. The alert also meant she had already approved it.Â
So that was that–trapped by red tape and rotten luck.Â
Ryan blew out a breath through clenched teeth. Hell no.Â
He flicked his Holoband and pinged his brother. The call opened in a breath.Â
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“Ethan, the Match Bureau force–matched me.” His voice came rough, disbelief scraping every word. “I’m not ready for marriage, sure as hell not to a stranger pulled out of an algorithm. This is insane.”Â
Ethan listened quietly until the rant ran dry. His tone stayed calm. “You got the Bureau notice too, huh?”Â
Ryan blinked. “What do you mean by ‘too‘?”Â
“I mean, I just got mine.” Ethan stacked a few files with clinical precision.Â
Ryan gazed at his brother, unable to speak. Both of them remained silent for a long moment.Â
Finally, Ryan raked a hand down his face. “Any way to make her cancel?”Â
“It’s a forced match, Ryan. We don’t get a say in this.” Ethan’s fingers drummed once against the desk.Â
Ryan flopped onto the couch, forearm over his eyes. “So there’s nothing I can do? I’ve paid those leeches for years. I’m single because I want to be. If I wanted a girlfriend, I’d have one by dinner. I don’t need the government pairing me like livestock.”Â
Ethan’s eyes flicked up. “Who’s your match?”Â
Ryan replied, “Some Ava… something. I didn’t finish reading. I was too busy being furious.”Â
A quick laugh slipped from Ethan. “Then, you’ll love this. Mine’s Ava Morren. The file says she turned twenty–five today.”Â
Ryan shot upright. “Wait—what? Yeah, that’s her! You’re telling me we both got matched to the same girl?”Â
Shock stripped the fury from his voice.Â
“I’ll dig into it,” Ethan replied, voice steady. “We’ll talk after I get some answers.”Â
Across the city, another storm brewed.Â
A department manager stumbled through an annual review while Mason Heiser sat at the head of the table. His expression was carved out of ice, and his brow was drawn so tight it could slice air.Â
No one dared draw a full breath.Â
The air pressed down so thick it could snap bones.Â
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The three closest to him fought to keep their knees from knocking. A few prayed under their breath for the poor soul presenting, while the rest–knowing their turn was next–couldn’t decide who had the worse fate.Â
Everyone in the room knew the boss was in a mood. Survival was the only goal at this point.Â
“Your division missed every single target,” Mason’s voice sliced through the stillness, low and sharp. “Worse than last year. Explain that math.”Â
Cold sweat streamed down the manager’s temple. “I… I can expl-Â
“Next,” Mason interrupted, not even looking up.Â
The next manager barely got to his feet before his legs gave out, hitting the floor with a solid thud. The rest followed like dominoes–some sliding out of their seats, others gripping the table as if it could keep them alive. Papers lifted in the air and scattered. The silence that followed was deafening.Â
Every person in the room could feel that their boss was pissed. His presence rolled through the air like a shockwave, heavy enough to make the ceiling lights flicker.Â
Mason’s gaze locked on the alert flashing across his Holoband. The frozen calm he wore like armor fractured for the first time. He shoved his chair back, rose to his full height, and instructed his assistant, Alton Crawford, to finish the rest.Â
He strode out, the door sealing shut behind him with a hiss.Â
No one moved or even breathed.Â
After a long stretch of silence, someone finally found their voice. “Holy crap. The rumors were true. He’s a Triple–S. My lungs almost collapsed.”Â
Another voice joined in, shaky and low. “Guy’s wasting that power behind a desk. Should be leading an army.”Â
A third turned toward Alton. “Mr. Crawford, do we… continue?”Â
Alton straightened his tie, smiling like a man already buried in overtime. “Of course. The boss might get a day off. We don’t.”Â
Far out on the eastern border, a drawer in an empty barracks glowed quietly. A lone Holoband pulsed, waiting. Night rolled over the base. No one came back for it.Â
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Charter Beige forn 2Â
At the Holcomb Biotech Labs, Keith Holcomb sealed the final test vial with his core team when the lab door burst open and a small whirlwind sailed in.Â
“Keith!” a young voice chirped, her ponytail bouncing behind her. “Your Holoband won’t top buzzing!”Â
Only one person in the entire facility dared to storm a live lab without clearance–Lila Holcomb, the ten–year–old golden darling of the Holcomb Corporation.Â
She launched herself into her brother’s side like a bird to its perch.Â
Keith peeled off his gloves and held her at arm’s length to keep the sterile coat clean. Lila, you cannot sprint into a hot lab. Dangerous lives in here.”Â
Her checks puffed, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I had to! You got a message from the Match Bureau. You have a wife now!”Â
Keith blinked, a laugh breaking loose despite himself. “You little menace.”Â
Laughter rippled through the team. Everyone in the lab knew their prodigy dated data and nothing else.Â
Keith sent Lila to his office and changed.Â
When he stepped in a few minutes later, she was spinning in his chair, clutching his Holoband. “See? I told you! Look–it’s from the Match Bureau!”Â
He checked the alert. The text glowed clean and undeniable.Â
His gaze lingered on the name before a crooked smile touched his mouth. You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m force–matched with Ava Morren?Â
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