Gino was just a boy the first time he ever visited Chivo. It was a chilly fall day in November, the type of weather that wasn’t quite cold enough to wear a coat, but certainly warranted zipping up your sweater.

Gino remembered his first impressions - despite growing from it’s royal roots, Chivo still resembled the capital of a medieval city. The castle of the Nekonian royalty still loomed large on over the hill overlooking the city - a beacon of hope (or a symbol of coruption) - depending on your perspective. The city even back then had done a great job of melding the old with the new, the cobblestone streets and statues with the skyscrapers and office towers.

Back then, his dad had taken him to the Capitol Building - Uluru - old Nekonian for the Philosopher King. It was the home of the Nekonian president and cabinent and neighboured by the Kalopolous - Old Nekonian for the Meeting Ground. In the Nekonian revolution - the people rose up against the old kingdom and pushed for a new order - one ruled by a president, meant to serve as a philiosoher king of sorts for the people. However, unlike a monarchy, he was to be held accountable by the people, as represented by the members of the Kalopolous.

The Uluru was a majestic building - it possessed a domed roof that pushed inwards like a U with corinthinan columns and a public garden in its front yard. The building was a bright orange and in the tint of the sunset - you could see the sun setting behind the Uluru, with the buiilding matching the twilight orange twinge of the sky.

His father had been the first one to take him to Chivo. They were there for a family wedding but knowing how much he followed politics, he made it a point to show Gino the Uluru.

Gino remembered what his father told him when seeing that building “it doesn’t matter if the president lives there or his janitor - the building was still built brick by brick from people just like you or I. No matter how big or small, the most important thing is to lay the first brick.”

His dad was in construction, so laying bricks was the most natural analogy. But it was good advice that Gino internalized at a young age - that even the most complex tasks could be tackled brick by brick.

“Sir - you’ll need to put your seatbelt on, we’re beginning our descent.”

Gino jolted up in his seat and looked up at the flight attendant waiting patiently for him to tie his seat belt. He looked down at his phone and a photo of his 7 year old self in front of the Uluru, during that same visit with his dad. He glanced at the clock on the side of his phone - 10:30 AM, CST (Chivo Standard Time).

Within moments the plane had set down and at the airport, there was a motorcade waiting for him. He recognized some of the faces from previous events he attended in Chivo as members of President Ritchie’s transportation apparatus.

“Welcome to Chivo, sir. We trust your flight was comfortable. The president apologies he couldnt send a private flight for you. We did not want to raise suspicions by using one of the Ulurus private airplane - if the press got a hold of that, it could get ugly.”

“So have me flying commerical is the solution, huh. Real discrete” - thought Gino.

No problem guys, just happy to be here. - Gino responded.

The ride to the Uluru typically took twenty minutes without traffic. Gino looked out the window at a city that was changing rapidly. The symbols of old Chivo still stood strong - the royal castle, the cobblestone streets, old city hall. But a new glass skyline gleamed above the city along with construction cranes everywhere you could see. This wasn’t his father’s Chivo or even Gino’s - the city now belonged to the technooptimism of the youth.

Gino