They had watched Spain flip.
Not crumble.
Not burn.
Just shift.
From nation to network.
The reports didn't say "fall."
They said "realign."
In London, they stopped calling it the Spanish Civil War.
They started calling it "the Incident."
Then "the Integration."
No one knew who coined it.
No one corrected it.
At the Foreign Office, Chamberlain stared at a dossier stamped three times by the same hand.
Different departments.
Same conclusion.
"Spain has no military left."
"Spain has no resistance."
"Spain has no Spain."
He pushed the folder forward.
"We're calling the summit."
No one objected.
In Lisbon, the quiet grew heavier.
Salazar hadn't left his residence in three days.
His cabinet rotated hourly, slipping reports through his aides, waiting for reactions that never came.
At the consulate gates, a French attaché arrived with a sealed letter.
It was not opened.
But it was not refused.
