CHAPTER 835 193.3 - SELENE

Selene's gaze remained steady on Astron, her interest deepening with every passing second. The crowd's murmurs around them were fading into a distant hum—background noise, irrelevant.

Her true focus was on the young man before her.

As she continued to observe him, a faint pulse flickered across the corner of her vision, subtle yet distinct—a confirmation that the data was still streaming.

Her lens was working as intended.

A recent prototype from ThornTech Industries, one of her family's more discreet tech divisions, the lens wasn't just for aesthetic enhancement. It allowed real-time analysis—minute fluctuations in facial expressions, micro-adjustments in posture, variations in pulse rate and thermal output. All of it, compiled and cross-referenced against behavioral databases.

And yet, despite all of that—

Astron's readings were… frustratingly stable.

Heart rate: Unchanged.

Body temperature: Within expected range.

Pupil dilation: Minimal reaction.

Microexpressions: Suppressed.

Selene's fingers tapped idly against her forearm.

'How interesting.'

Selene's fingers curled slightly, tapping against her arm in a slow, thoughtful rhythm.

Her lens was still active—its faint digital overlay shifting subtly in her vision, confirming that the data was still streaming.

And yet, the results were... peculiar.

'Is it malfunctioning?'

The thought crossed her mind, but she immediately dismissed it.

It was a prototype, still undergoing refinements, but she had tested it enough to know that even in its early stages, it was highly functional. It worked. It had worked flawlessly against trained individuals before—picking up the smallest signs of tension, subconscious tells, even physiological shifts people weren't aware of themselves.

Yet, as it continued analyzing Astron, the results remained frustratingly... neutral.

No stress indicators.

No fluctuations beyond the ordinary.

No discernible deception patterns.

'Impossible.'

Even the most composed individuals exhibited something under direct scrutiny. A flicker of uncertainty. A micro-adjustment in their stance. A pulse shift, however minor.

But Astron?

It was like he wasn't even

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