SOUTHERN LYCAN REPUBLIC. THE NEXT DAY.
Cyrus smiled brightly at the cameras as he stood with Forrest by his side. His speech about the bright future for the South was a triumph, and all he had to do now was answer a few questions before moving to his next engagement of the day.
"Forrest, why did you choose to support Alpha Walford's candidacy and withdraw your own? Any regrets?" The reporter annoyed him. Why was this even a question when it was done?
Forrest, clad in his usual navy blue coat, took the microphone. "I believe that the best man should win; sadly, it's not me this time. I will remain the Republic's loyal General but need Cyrus' guidance and wisdom. He is the best man for the job."
Even now, the journalists' faces were doubtful, and he hated it. Wasn't this enough for them?
