“Zoë dismantled the remaining robo-cones with a few quick karate chops. A roundhouse here and an eagle claw there took care of them. The robots didn’t know what hit them—again and again and again. But when the last of the robo-cones fell, a new danger arose. The cafeteria line hadn’t slowed, and the people of Traverse City had filled their bowls with more alien ice cream. Spoons in hand, they faced the heroes. “Eat your ice cream,” they chanted.”