The Presidential Island looked peaceful that afternoon. The sea stretched quietly beyond the cliffs while the soft wind carried the scent of salt and flowers from the gardens that had been carefully maintained for years. Ten years had changed many things in the world. Nations that once stood divided had become one under cooperation.
Wars had ended. Cities destroyed during the Sovereign conflict had risen again brighter than before. Humanity had stepped into an age that people once believed only belonged inside books and dreams. Yet among all those changes, this island somehow remained the same. It still carried the feeling of home. The place where victories had been celebrated, losses had been mourned, and countless memories had been born.
Sabrina Jonah arrived that afternoon.
