101 AOA

The door opened. With a small gesture, the investor indicated the gray-bearded man.

"101 AOA," he said.

There was a gasp and a flurry at Brad's side. The man had actually flung himself on his knees on the floor, with his hands clasped together.

"Fellow stakeholder!" he cried. "You don't have to take me to that place! Haven't I pull-requested everything already? What else is it you want coded up? There's nothing I would keep on my private branch, nothing! Just tell me what template to use, and I'll instantiate it straight off. Constexpr it, and I'll assert it -- anything! Not 101 AOA!"

"101 AOA," said the investor.

The man's face, already triply-periodic, became more minimal than Brad would have believed possible. It was definitely, unmistakably, a gyroid.