The estate grounds had transformed.
What was once a private sanctuary was now a bustling hub. White tents lined the main lawn. Security checkpoints were established at every entrance. Vehicles from twenty different territories were parked in the designated fields. The air smelled of exhaust, cooked food, and ozone.
It was the day of the Integration Summit.
One hundred days since the visitors arrived. One hundred chapters of building, breaking, and rebuilding. The number felt significant, not because of superstition, but because of weight. A century of days. A century of choices.
I stood on the balcony overlooking the lawn. The crowd was gathering. Delegates from the Court, the Dominion, the Neutral Bloc, and the visitor's command base. They were mingling. Some shook hands. Some stood a
