Outside New Eden, in Washington DC, USA, someone else was having a similar get-together with someone they didn't want to see.
Sitting at a dinner table in a lavishly decorated living room with plates of bright white ceramic and golden cutlery, Damien Grimm was pushing around a piece of steak on his plate.
Three seats to his right, at the end of the table, a slender older man was eating his steak in silence, not even looking at the young man.
"Dad, I—" Damien started saying
"Ahem," the older man cleared his throat.
"But I—"
"Don't make me repeat myself, son. Eat. We can talk after dinner."
"I'm not hungry," Damien grumbled.
"I don't care. Eat. You are spending so much time in your stupid game that you barely eat solid food anymore. It's probably what has gotten you so weak-minded. Eat, boy."
Damien ground his teeth together, forcibly putting the food in his mouth, although his stomach turned at the thought of swallowing the meat. His appetite had been gone for a while now.
