Jon doesn't hide that Ambrose has scored a hit - his face tightens and both hands clench into fists. But it doesn't distract him. Doesn't reach his eyes, still wide and focused, hard as glass, the pupils as deep as the well Ambrose brought him through. He's begun this, and there's no stopping.

And don't think he missed that 'eliminate.'

"What, exactly, distinguishes those of us you wanted from the 'mistakes?'"