"It's nothing against you, General. There's just been a mistake."

Rex is still trying to rationalize exactly what he's seeing. A set of words on his wrist— your name— and his name on your arm in the same spot. His chosen name. Not just his CT number.

He didn't have a soulmark before. It just appeared when you grabbed his hand to show him something.

"Us clones," he says. "We don't have…"

He trails off, chest aching with something guilty.

You deserve better than a fluke.