The commercial flight descended through the familiar, neon-tinted clouds of Green City, bringing the retired absolute sovereigns back to the very epicentre of the world they had violently conquered and flawlessly pacified. When the heavy steel doors of the private biometric elevator finally hissed open at the absolute pinnacle of the central tower, it did not reveal a bustling war room or a tense tactical command centre.
It revealed home.
The sprawling executive penthouse was perfectly, breathtakingly silent. The golden afternoon light filtered through the reinforced panoramic windows, casting long, warm shadows across the plush carpets and the polished teakwood floors. The air was rich with the faint, lingering scent of the blooming night orchids drifting in from the attached glass conservatory. It was exactly as they had left it — an absolute, unyielding sanctuary of domestic peace.
