Year Of Change
In the morning of the last day of the first week. Proteros, presidential precinct.
Luis sat at his desktop, looking at the various screens on the opposite wall reveal the images of various countries going through their election campaigns. The entire world was experiencing a worldwide election, not for some sort of supreme power, but that of their nation. Altogether, in a single year.
Usually, most happened in the first month, further confirmed in the first week of the second month. Only for certain circumstances that the public alone could understand and spiritually ‘allow’ would these be delayed even one or two months in the end.
Lýmoca had always followed this trend, until the previous reforms changed it, moving the day the elections started and the results were known more towards the end of the year. In this year, it also seemed like many thought of similar things, but Lýmoca did so randomly, leaving little to no time to do something like they did.
The president has been opportunistic in this matter, too. Regardless, it seemed like this year, only a few countries followed the previous trend, with their results soon showing in the following weeks. Some of those who did were Zyckevele, KAA, Merula, and the EPA Commonwealth.
The rest of the globe, however, were taking similar delays. With the ‘global’ phenomenon happening, the population of a country couldn’t just say no when it happened everywhere else. Although there could be someone or a country whose civilians manifested for this matter, but they, too, were taken by surprise.
Most of the south of the Moonblue supercontinent were showing results in the 2nd and further weeks of the second month. But one that would take a little longer, especially because of their almost 1 billion population, was ANS.
Currently, with all the previous campaigns finished for the other countries in Moonblue, ANS was still amidst its debates transmitted worldwide. At this time, Luis watched one of these, quite early, transmitted live in the morning, but still a substantial piece of news that the world couldn’t miss.
Luis watched, having finished all the meetings and preparing for the daily press conference, all still in the morning. In one of the screens, unlike the others showing news and the support of some news anchors towards some candidates in their respective countries, he saw the ANS candidates for presidency.
Unlike Lýmoca, which had political parties that mattered, and others that scrapped the votes of those who don’t care or want to know nothing of politics and throw their votes to the small ones. ANS had a much more centralized method, so to speak.
It allowed any politician to postulate. Of course, for this matter, the civilians must make 2 elections every time. One was to vote for those who wish to run for president; these must be voted by the population. They must receive a certain percentage of votes to be granted the opportunity. Usually, no more than 10 people dare to do this.
After all, it was an immensely competitive yet also venomous struggle. The pre-election votes not only showed the overall popularity of a possible candidate, of which the candidates could increase the support from the people however they deemed fit, but it also exposed them.
Anyone who started low but seemed started doing better might just be found out to have verified evidence on something nasty, or straight out crooked. It was a year when the nastiness of the political world were shown the easiest, although it was more of an ANS art than anything.
In this election, besides the current president running for his charge again, ANS welcomed more than 30 individuals trying to run for president. In the end, 8 people were voted above the percentage. Of the 8, 3 were women, with another 4 males besides the current president.
In the debate, everyone was arranged randomly in half a circle, a little close to each other. A middle-aged finished speaking with the best smile she could form, kindhearted. The announcer thanked her before looking at the current president, “Now, the moment everyone has been waiting for. Mr. President Gant Comfor, how are you doing tonight?”
“About time,” an old man with white skin and the only white hair remaining at the sides and back of his head responded in a humorously bad mood. He had brown eyes and a stern face, but he seemed at ease, and more so with the commentary just now.
“Hahaha,” the announcer smiled before moving some papers on his desktop. He looked up at the president and continued smiling. His small eyes flashing a little crafty, “Sir, the world has seen strange changes in these times of the global term 1,020 - 1,026. What do you have to say about this, Mr. President? Do you think this will bring worse situations to the world? To our country?”
“Tell you what, before answering you professionally, I’ll start with this. If the world is in trouble, ANS won’t.” Gant Comfor said, not expressing many gestures, but leaving it clear and loud enough. The announcer pressed his lips together and cocked his head a few times.
“This term has been a wild goose. Since the moments we checked in with the presidents’ elections, we had the Preut Civil War, the Disastrous War since 1,021’s 11th month.” Gant Comfor gained nods from the announcer. “It lasted too long, you know why? Lýmoca didn’t face the problem as expected. Their neighbor suffered, but they did nothing. So much suffering…”
“Are you saying they could have finished it earlier on?” The announcer caught on quickly, grabbing the foot. Gant Comfor nodded, moving his old lips while gulping a little. “With just their military, no matter if the pariahs united for this matter, they could’ve strategically surrounded those rebels and be done with it.”
“In our lifetime,” Gant Comfor looked at the ceiling and opened his palms, also facing it, “Heaven's forbid, the Disastrous War ended in 1,025. But if they had just done a little intelligence and waited the right moment, this would have ended in the 1,022, easily. No centralized parliament’s dispute.”
“Sir, you say this about Preut and Lýmoca so much, and I can’t help noticing the care you show for this matter.” The announcer nodded and spoke, with Gant Comfor’s nod and ‘that’s right’ before continuing, “Do you have anything to say about this? We know it was a tough and brave stance you showed that time. What can you tell us you didn’t dare, until now?”
The announcer was charismatic, putting it in Gant Comfor’s plate. The ANS president seemed thoughtful and even debating in his mind whether to speak or not. After a few seconds of building silence, he lifted his chin and cocked his head to the right. “It’s simple, Varus. Lýmoca was not up to the task. ANS takes over, imprisons the perpetrators, and frees Preut. We would even let Lys and pariahs have talks if they wanted to return to the past, or continue their separation.”
“Help in the primary reason this tragedy occurred. Indeed, Mr. President. You think of everything for everyone.” The announcer wore a neutral expression when he said this. Gant Comfor nodded, adding, “Instead, you have an actual kid go around and assassinate those so-called generals. Isn’t that the most absurd thing?”
“Yes, indeed. And actually, Mr. President, I’d like to talk about you about that, of the matters leading to nowadays Lýmoca.” The announcer became excited and spoke quickly. Gant Comfor nodded with a smile, lifting a palm, “Calm down, young man. Go on and spill it, but slower, I am so old and need to hear everything better.”
“Oh, yes, I apologize, Mr. President.” The announcer commented before clearing his throat. “There has been this lagj discovery, and now, with a sensational kid emerging from the shadows to become a brand-new, most important role in our southern neighbor’s administration, the Chief Secretary of Security. What can you tell us of these things? Because, it appears to me so bizarre!”
“Mn, yes, well… sigh.” Gant Comfor rapidly gulped and took half a second to put life in his semi frozen visage. “There are things in the world of this Sanctum Order that need explaining. Either from one country or many. But fret not, when the time is ripe, it will happen. It won’t be catastrophic as the Lýmocan government has irresponsibly shown it, and surely not with unreliable people like an 18-year-old.”
“Going with all of this, I’d like to ask now… Isn’t it strange that Lýmoca entered into a war-like state, where they are now struggling with their organized crime? Of which, 87 to 90% are from Lýmoca selfsame. When they ignored Preut, but even have news of warplanes overflying the cities and wilderness with explosions and loud noises?”
“It’s horrible,” Gant Comfor shook his head, “Horrifying. There could never be something worse than a leader who doesn’t know what he’s doing. People’s lives are in danger because of it!”
“And let me tell you, there is something I can tell the president of Lýmoca right now, and is important, for him and his country. Let us help you, let me show you the way. I can send tens of thousands of soldiers who will know what to do and how. They will have access to better equipment, better suited tools, and won’t harm a single civilian in that land!”
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“That’s… thoughtful, Mr. President, but please refrain from over-campaign propositions like the other candidates here did, thank you.” The announcer immediately spoke after the president did, showing some heavy imploring.
“But this is important!” Gant Comfor looked at the announcer and grabbed the sides of the tall stand before him. The announcer slowly blinked, “I know, Mr. President, but rules are rules… Lastly, I’d like to ask you this, before finishing this section. Mr. President, what do you think of the ‘term’ that the world is starting to use yet again to describe us? It is ‘Leaftree’.”
“It’s not fair. There is no point in a conversation with people who know and use this word where they know what they’re doing. And let me tell you, they like it. I do not accept it! Anyone who does is a person of poor mental capacity who does not appreciate the world ANS has created with its peace.” Gant Comfor commented, but he was far from over.
“It’s a remembrance to the historic poverty that we have apologized for, and within reason. Everyone thinks back to that name when we mention it, be it in class or in public. It’s a slur for us, now. Besides, it comes from the State of Estuar, who are the reason why the coalition was called that way, even after we fled.”
“So it isn’t only a slur for us, but an insult to them whenever it’s mentioned. It’s my valid opinion, regardless how people think it through.” Gant Comfor said before finishing his part. The announcer nodded with a serious expression, noticing the president’s slightly relaxing tension.
“Well, Mr. President, it’s been almost 8 minutes and a half of your 10, the rest is yours to speak freely.” The announcer declared with a knife-hand gesture to Gant Comfor before the latter nodded, he started by shooting evidence bullets left and right to every present candidate.
“…” Luis looked at the side and didn’t even feel the bother to shake his head. He wore an ugly expression, which only remarked how handsome he was. At last, he shook his head a little and stood up, preparing his folder with some documents whose content he passed into physical from his desk screen before going out.
7 minutes later, he walked into a storage precinct from the back to meet with the rows and rows of news reporters again. This time, there weren’t many, with most of the news anchors sending 1 person at best, and all other news anchors sending a person as well.
“Good morning,” Luis met them with a polite smile. The clock at 9:10 AM showed he was late. “Sorry for the delay, I was watching… the ANS presidential debate. I have to say, I found some strange, random information from looking at it. So, I decided to begin the introduction this morning with this…”
“Lýmoca is not an old ranch that one can walk in and out to take a look, much less to talk about it like… they own it. It’s our country, and it has to be respected. We must be respected. It’s a sovereignty nobody, not even ourselves, are allowed to blemish nor can touch.” Luis spoke seriously.
“If there is any foreign entity that does not respect our country, and us, then that person is not important to us in turn, and we can disassociate from the unnecessary. As for ourselves, it is written in the constitution, and in the very blood that flows in us… We do not spare any hearsay. We do not weaken our country, our people. Those who do… will meet their ends as deserved.”
“Ahem,” Luis cleared his throat and became quick-witted, “Now, let me begin with the reports from last night’s assault on the criminal organization groups. The Secretary of Security will…”
… After the press conference ending at noon, much simpler and faster than yesterday, Luis walked out and on to the main building in a good mood. Luis didn’t know why, and he really couldn’t find the reason, but he liked coming out of those press conferences.
Just as he walked the wide open space with hidden White Bloods, stationed Green Bloods nearby, and Red Bloods also hidden, Luis was approached by a sudden Fox.
“Fox?” Luis frowned, looking at a face that wasn’t Lesly, or at least Roam or Butler. Fox nodded, wearing a random suit. He walked beside the president, whose mood was now a little ruined, but still above the 90% mark of being contented.
“You said you wanted to meet me, and I also have some ideas I’d like to give to the President. I wrote them on paper this time, as asked.” Fox cocked his head, unfocusing his gaze. Being made to do such things wasn’t to his liking, but he wouldn’t have been able to communicate with the other Ly forces otherwise.
“Yes, Fox. I called you, but we could've met at night.” Luis frowned a bit. Fox nodded, “Yes, but I don’t want to waste the nighttime here. I waited until the press conference was ready. I have to get back to supervise and command your operation.”
“I get that, but why not at night-… oh, I see.” Luis understood Fox being busy as the CSS, but when he turned his head to look at the young man, virile and with a life before him, Luis saw himself and almost smiled. Then, he thought of something and casually spoke, “But I believe you can only… only hope for luck to try for a child, Fox. Are you desperate?”
“Not something the President has to worry about,” Fox let out a slightly cold but definitely alienating comment. Luis wryly twitched his lips before nodding. “Fine. It wasn’t my place. Let me see what is it, then.”
Fox brought out a few thin folders and a pen to the president. Luis nearly rolled his eyes when seeing the pen. Then, he read the folders one by one. After every page, Luis became more and more surprised, understanding the intricacies of fewer things each time.
The glances he gave to Fox changed a bit, seeing him in a different manner; another light. His steps slowed down so he could read through at a reduced speed and even double read at times. When he was finished, he shook his head a little and turned his face to Fox.
“Are these from everything you gathered from just 8 hours or so of the results?” Luis asked Fox, who nodded and watched Luis grab the pen, slowly taking its lid off. Luis gave Fox another elongated glance before looking down at the folders, signing them each where he was supposed to before giving them back to Fox.
“Take a co-” Luis uttered, but Fox interrupted him. “Yes, a copy and then give Roam the real ones, while I get the copies. Used to it, pretty simple, and make sense. Got it, President.”
Luis gave Fox an empty stare with slightly narrowed eyes before shaking his head with a smile. “I never thought I’d have a kid like you be so… well, you adapt quickly.”
“Preut taught me to,” Fox looked ahead and commented, matching the President’s steps, albeit not the movement of his legs. “But I don’t deny my difference and evolution, my better self. Even in Preut, where my fellow ‘super’ stamina and resilient Preutians come from, I beat everyone else even before learning Emer’s art.”
“Preut… yeah, it’s strange. Only those coming from the Disastrous War… Preut Civil War have shown signs of ‘over human’ capabilities. It’s good these didn’t move to ANS. As any other Ly, they are tough and respectable workers, with such creative minds.” Luis nodded before exhaling softly. He seemed to be glad of something.
“If Preutians are so respected, why am I a thorn in your eyes, President?” Fox asked without putting attention to the President’s comment, or feelings from it. Luis smirked, he cocked his head a bit but then became a little serious, “Some things, which you’ll learn in the future, and I hope in not such bizarre ways… Well, you cannot control.”
“Does the President have anything to say about the integration of Preut to Lýmoca? It’s not been a full year since then. I assure you. Anyone by the time I left wanted to kneel before the idea of becoming a Ly and being protected. It won’t change much 3 years later. It was possible because you showed the virtues of Lýmoca, what you promised and showed, that helped them decide rapidly. If they remain like that is another matter. Maybe they are still not your people, after all…”
“That’s not the case!” Luis replied with a severe tone, shaking his head. Fox didn’t react, simply wording after Luis didn’t add anything. “That never depends on words.”
“I suppose…” Luis let out a tiny sigh and lowered his head. He lifted it almost immediately back up, but he frowned. Fox kept his head ahead and walking forth, changing the subject with the President, “I am still busy. One thing I wanted to ask, President, can I start… owning some land? I want to build farms and then many, many restaurants.”
“Yeah, you can do that. You’ll have to wait for the situation to settle down and the territory to be screened a few times by PSD after the organized crime is expelled.” Luis’s eyebrows jumped when he stopped there. “Now that I think about it, how has the Raging Blood preceded over his role? Do you bring honor to your position?”
“It’s a fine benefit, yes.” Fox responded. “I have access to information, and I can run an evaluation, search, or investigation from anyone I want. Unfortunately, Butler says I’m too old, and the representative captains voted against letting me act on my own. Grefang was fine, but even Loba? I am helpless, President.”
“No, he’s right. You shouldn’t have that much power.” Luis crossed his arms and stepped forwards a bit quicker. Fox saw Luis’s face turn back to him from the front and lifted his right eyebrow. “Why? Just because I’m young? Or because power is tempting? I have an evolved-”
“You are young, you don’t deserve such power. You make everyone jealous. So shush and take it up the ass if you don’t like it, just endure it.” Luis barked, interrupting his most-important CSS. As an extra, he turned his head to the front, “I won’t speak up for you. Get to work, Fox!”
Luis walked forth, ignoring Fox, who stopped and hung his head to the right. Watching the President run from some of his questions, he narrowed his eyes a bit. At last, he shook his head and turned, when he sensed a White Blood walk out of hiding. Fox let him, with his senses causing him no alarm, “What you want?”
“Raging Blood,” the White half knelt as he greeted Fox. Fox nodded, and the special agent spoke, “Many firsters know about your extreme condition from our Captains. Even if it is 30 years, or less now. Every beat from the 3rd to the 1st Grade counts on you, Raging Blood.”
“Your thoughts are appreciated,” Fox blinked before expressing. The White remained half knelt, and so, Fox waited. He didn’t waste more than a couple of seconds, “S- sir… There is this knowledge passed from my father to me, which was passed from his father to him… It comes from our ancestors. Mine are from a direct descent of the times when the AO wasn’t even started and everything around the world was a primitive settlement…”
Fox cocked his head before confidently beckoning the White. The latter stood up and whispered into Fox’s right ear, making him widen his eyes towards the end of the whispering. Fox frowned, his polycoria eyes trembled, and his eyebrows danced, while his lips moved a bit. The White then left, bowing deeply to the Raging Blood. Fox left, hurrying to his mega hotel.
…