The Imperial Council chambers had never hosted anyone with my footprint.
I took the circular podium usually reserved for guild petitioners and trade arbitrations; the geometry was the same, but the air was different. A hundred seats curved around me in a quiet arc, the usual shuffle of aides replaced by the held-breath stillness of people who knew this wasn't routine governance. This was the moment the machinery of the old world tried to describe the new one—out loud, on the record.
"Guild Master Arthur Nightingale," Chancellor Amelia intoned, formality wrapped around fascination, "the Council recognizes your request to formalize integration of essential-services technology into continental law."
Polite phrasing for a simple fact: Ouroboros now ran more of the continent's vital systems than most nation-states. And the law didn't have words for that—yet.
