Caovish State Building, Caovish Republic - 7:30 PM - 01/MAY/2026
The state building was quiet, and the lights inside the building were dimmed to a minimum of what they typically would be during the largest political ceremony of the year. Voices were low, and the quiet gave the large chamber an unusual stillness that seeped into every crack and crevice of the building. A few of the guests within the room, people who were either politically connected, wealthy enough or famous enough, many of whom had based their successes on their ability to project their presence and voice further than most others, were nearly silent.
One of the junior staff members was clutching his anomaly detector in his off-hand, his nerves starting to get the better of him, and he attempted to hide the fact that he was actively checking to see if something was going terribly wrong around him from his colleagues and the guests present. Whedon’s Row was one of the cities considered safe in Caovia, far enough away from the bombs that caused anomalies and lingering environmental damage. But one or two could sneak their way into the city by accident or blind luck.
His detector was quiet; however, the blue LED hadn’t blinked to indicate any strange emissions locally.
His attention was drawn in by something else, however, a small crackle from the main stage. He’d been too distracted by his own state of fear to notice the President had taken to the stage and had begun adjusting the microphone. He was an older man, wrinkled and tired. That much had always been evident to those around him and the general populace, but despite that the President carried himself with the air of vigour and authority. It was what inspired him to join in on his security detail a year ago, and what now began to give him pause to collect himself.
“Friends, Colleagues, Citizens of this great nation. Thank you all for attending. It has been my greatest honour to be elected as President of Caovia, and it’s been my continuing duty as my first term came to an end, where the people of Caovia decided that I should serve a second term for them. A duty that I gladly accept.”
President Iain Callahan took a moment to shuffle his notes, take a sip of water and adjust his suit slightly.
“Since the War that shattered the continent we now call home, and broke it into its constituent parts, the Caovish people have worked tirelessly, swiftly and with a dogged determination unique to our temperament to rebuild what we have lost. It is a task that has taken the better part of almost eighty years of shared struggle, history and setback after setback. Yet, not once have we thought, “it’s too much, the effort isn’t worth it. Things are good enough as they are.” No, for decades, through peerless effort and struggle, Caovia has been rebuilt and reinvigorated by the hearts of people unwilling to allow us to fall into despair. I am proud to carry that legacy forward, as we all do.”
Callahan’s eyes swept the room, taking in the moment for a moment longer.
“But, as proud as I am. We cannot allow ourselves to rest on our laurels, as we’ve seen, the world is coming back together slowly. The grander isolation we’ve known from the Shattered Continent is starting to end, and we cannot merely allow it to get the better of us. Anomalies persist in the old heartland of Caovia, ravaging those living in and around the areas, and the flow of crossings at our borders from people living in the less civilized places is on the rise. My goal for this second term is to prepare our nation for the changes to the world. To ensure that we are ready for the world to return to what is was before, and so that we are not caught off-guard by another world that may be just as willing to try to wipe us off the map once again. We will survive, as we have done since the war, and we will continue to do until the end of our time.”