In the main hall of the Hunt estate, where most of the distinguished guests had gathered, hushed conversations mingled with the clink of glasses and the low thrum of old generator systems that powered the estate's reinforced walls.
People spoke in voices just above whispers, their expressions a mix of curiosity and wariness.
"Can you believe it?" a man in a weathered military coat muttered to his colleague, his gaze fixed on the towering columns draped with the Hunt family's black and gold banners. "Fifty years ago, we were fighting over scraps in the old city ruins. Now look at this place—like something out of a dream."
"Dream or not," his companion replied, her voice carrying a trace of caution, "you can't deny how far they've come. To gather this many factions in one hall without a single skirmish...only the Hunts could manage it."
Near a cracked support pillar patched with alloy plates, two younger guests—both dressed in simple reinforced uniforms—spoke in hushed awe.
