Chapter Sixty-three

The Dala Alvon hall was by far one of the most magnificent and most beautiful halls in the city and of course the top ten in the world.

Why wouldn't it be? His father had built it in honor of the man he held up so much respect.

“A real mentor”, he'd often say. And to think that he and Dala Alvon had been childhood friend was crazy. Crazier than the thought of being US president.

And then, it had been his father. His father had always had a thing for architecture even when he'd studied Megatronics And Global Technology. Perhaps that was where his own passion had stemmed from. Only looking at their Voxx Headquarters, one could already tell that only the architects couldn't have inculcated such an idea plan. Of course they'd brought it to life but the details and specificity of every corner, every edge, every plot and every block, could have only been prescribed from his fathers wildest of imaginations.

Alistair smiled, happy and sad memories reeling in his mind in considerable slow mo.