The Presidential Address

The press briefing room was a chaotic tempest of flashing lights and hushed shouts. Cameras from every major media agency across the globe were crammed into the space, reporters politely—or not so politely—jostling for position, each vying for a slice of the world-changing news. The air practically crackled with anticipation.

The President of the United States strode to the podium, a confident, almost triumphant smile gracing his lips. He adjusted the microphone, letting the clamor subside before he began to speak, his voice booming with practiced theatricality.

"Thank you, thank you, everyone. Great to be here. What a week, folks, what a week! We've just completed an absolutely tremendous operation, a truly historic victory, alongside our fantastic allies, Japan. You know, Japan, great people, very strong. And together, in a joint military operation, with the brave men and women of our armed forces, our incredible, unbelievable soldiers, we managed to do something truly amazing. We defeated Tamamo no Mae."

He paused, letting the name hang in the air, then leaned into the microphone conspiratorially. "And let me tell you, that was a very bad fox. A nasty fox. A vicious one. Tried to cause all sorts of problems. Big problems. But we handled it. We always handle it, don't we? Because we have the best people. The smartest people. And we got it done, just like I promised we would."

He gestured vaguely. "And of course, we could not have done it, we simply could not have, without the absolutely incredible, the brave, the truly heroic personnel of our Paranormal Department. These are men and women, folks, who do things you wouldn't believe. Things you've only read about in stories, frankly. They work in the shadows, they're unseen, but let me tell you, they are tough. Very, very tough. And they saved lives. Many, many lives. Billions, maybe. You know, they're the best."

A slight shift in his tone, a familiar grievance bubbling to the surface. "Now, this department, frankly, it was a mess. A complete disaster. It was underfunded, lacked members, didn't have the resources it needed to protect our great nation. All because of the last administration. That's right. They had their own ideas, didn't they? Their woke, anti-psychic agenda. They didn't believe in strength, they believed in... well, I don't know what they believed in, but it wasn't protecting America. It was terrible. A total disgrace. But we're fixing it. We're rebuilding our military, and we're rebuilding this department, making it bigger, stronger, better than ever before."

He puffed out his chest. "I was elected on a platform of peace through strength, and rebuilding our military, and that includes all facets of our national defense. That's why, today, right here, right now, I am signing an executive order. A very powerful executive order. This order will expand recruitment across all high schools in America, for potentially gifted individuals, young people, very talented people, and we will train them to be the elite units that will protect our glorious nation from threats you can't even imagine. Threats from within, threats from without. We will protect you. We will make America safe again."

He paused, scanning the room. "And of course, we will also have a bill in Congress related to this. A very important bill. And it will hopefully pass, if the radical left Democrats use common sense to pass it. Because this isn't about politics, folks. This is about national security. This is about protecting our families, our children, our future. It's common sense."

A flurry of hands shot into the air. The President pointed to a reporter in the front row. "Yes, you."

"Mr. President," the reporter began, his voice barely audible over the chatter, "how long has the United States government had a paranormal department, and what are some of the threats we are up against that necessitate this level of expansion?"

The President opened his mouth to speak, a practiced answer already forming, but an agent, tall and stone-faced, leaned in from behind the podium, whispering something urgently into his ear. The President listened, his expression shifting almost imperceptibly, then gave a curt nod. 

He looked back at the reporter, a slight smirk. "That's a very interesting question. A very, very interesting question. But I can't answer that. Not right now. Very classified. Next. How about you," he pointed to another reporter further back.

"Mr. President," she asked, "what kind of recruitment efforts will take place across the United States? If individuals are found to possess supernatural powers, will it be mandatory to join this department? Is this a draft of sorts?"

The President tapped the agent from before, who again leaned in, whispering quickly. The President listened slightly, then he turned back to the microphone.

"Well, let me tell you. This is very important. Very, very important. If they are tested by us, by our very best scientists, and found to possess the potential, the incredible, tremendous potential, and they sign the paperwork, very important to sign the paperwork, our agents will then awaken their abilities. It's a miracle, frankly. And then, they will undergo a mandatory training program. It's the best training in the world. Believe me." He paused, letting that sink in. "Now, if they opt to not join the department at any point, perhaps they change their minds, which would be a big mistake, but it happens, our personnel will then permanently shut down their abilities for the rest of their life. Permanently. And we will, of course, erase their memories of the awakening procedures and anything related to the department. It's for their own safety, really. And for national security. It's a very strong policy. Very fair."

Another reporter, emboldened by the shocking revelation, called out. "Mr. President, is Tamamo no Mae really dead, and what information can you provide the public regarding the event in New York?"

"That's classified," the President said, cutting him off with a dismissive wave. "I can't tell you that. Next."

The briefing continued for a few more minutes, a chaotic symphony of questions and the President's rambling, defiant answers. Numerous reporters swarmed, clamoring for attention. But after a few more evasive responses, agents swiftly moved forward, politely but firmly urging the reporters out of the room. The President gave a final, triumphant wave, then turned and headed back towards the quiet, shielded confines of the Oval Office, leaving a bewildered press corps and a stunned world in his wake.