"Thank you, Kara, for your service. That will be all for now. I should talk to my dear little brother alone."
The voice that followed sounded like a guy trying his hardest to sound mature and regal, reverberating across the balcony like a phony superhero's cheap-looking hologram.
The hover bike had reached the castle in about 10 minutes, and Kaisen had gawked at the city below.
One thing he noticed was that the residents weren't living peacefully; instead, they were busy cranking out weapons and armor like a dystopian Santa's workshop preparing for a very bloody Christmas.
Big restaurants, or at least that's what Kara said they were, dotted every major block, and small vendors with food lined every other street. It was for the rebels to eat and drink as they toiled away in the smithies and workshops, keeping the war machine well-fed and well-armed.