The Revolution Came

Chapter 22: Election Of 1933

April 29th, 1933
Revilla

The summer wind swept through the festively adorned streets of Revilla, carrying the fluttering of flags and parade banners that marked a historic triumph, the departure of the last British troops and loyalists.

Trumpets blared, tubas boomed, and drums thundered in unison, their melodies weaving together in a triumphant rendition of the national anthem. Laughter and cheers filled the air as the city reveled in its newfound freedom.

Amid the joyous revelry, away from the public eye, members of the secret society convened within the grand halls of the National Convention. In the shadow of celebration, plans for the nation's uncertain future were already unfolding.

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Cody sat at the grand table alongside the Supreme Council of the Revolutionary Covenant, still surprised that he had been granted a seat despite his dismissal. He had expected to be cast aside, yet here he was, given an unexpected opportunity to shape the future of their fledgling nation. He wasn’t about to waste it.

The atmosphere inside the National Convention Hall was a stark contrast to the celebrations echoing outside. While the people of Revilla rejoiced in the streets, the air within the chamber buzzed with tension. Murmurs and hushed conversations filled the room as factions vied for dominance, their disagreements reflected in the two banners draped above the long table.

To the right sat the radical patriots, staunch advocates of self-governance who insisted on a strong central government to maintain order. On the left, the moderates pushed for a central authority where all national funds would flow directly to the state, ensuring strict financial control. Those who had yet to align with either faction remained seated in the middle, their silence betraying their uncertainty.

As the wind carried the distant echoes of trumpets and drums from the streets outside, Cody knew the real battle for the country’s future was only beginning.

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As the last members stepped inside the National Convention Hall, National Guardsmen swiftly shut the heavy doors and took their positions, ensuring that what transpired within remained uninterrupted. The muffled echoes of the city's celebration barely reached them now, the real work of building a nation had begun.

Ken Drick stood at the head of the grand table, his voice cutting through the lingering murmurs. "With the birth of our new republic, we must begin by electing new officers. The national level will take priority, followed by local appointments." The chamber quieted as all eyes turned to him.

He continued, his tone measured yet firm. "For the national government, the council and congress have agreed to retain the current system with key reforms. The Supreme Council will be reorganized into the President’s Cabinet, while Congress will be divided into two chambers, an upper and a lower house."

A ripple of murmurs spread through the hall. Minor debates flared between the radical patriots and the moderates, though unlike in past meetings, no one reached for their revolvers. Perhaps the revolution had tempered their tempers, at least for now.

"Does everyone approve of this structure?" Ken Drick asked, scanning the room. Hands rose in silent agreement, heads nodding in approval. The decision was made.

"Then we shall proceed with the election. Magdiwang and Magdalo, please submit your list of candidates to General Rivera, along with your selections for the President’s Cabinet," he instructed.