Enrec--
Brock
--
I’m aboard a giant, oval aircraft that’s painted the color of blue steel. Along with five hundred strangers, I’m sitting within one of several rows of black, leather seats. Directly in front of us all, we see the holographic projection of a soldier dressed in combat gear. The soldier sits with his palms flat against his lower thighs and with his back upright, with instructions in bold letters above reading: “Correct your posture accordingly.”
Outside the long, horizontal window panels around us, I catch a glimpse of the Lower-City of the Citadel as we make our descent into the World Below. It looks peaceful from where I’m sitting, but we’ve lost at least one-third of our country. On the insides of its walls, there’s no one left who I can help. Not yet.
A deep, electro
