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"National homelessness rates are rising at an abnormally high rate, despite attempts by the central government to boost school and welfare funding, and cut taxes. Consequentially, alcoholism and drug use has peaked, with as many as 15% of teens of all demographics and age groupings consuming at least a liter of alcohol or 150 milligrams of any opioid in a month. The ministry of health has come out with a statement on the issue, stating that "the usage of opioids if not prescribed, and its unsupervised creation must be kept on tabs by our fine ministry. That is why, starting next week, it will be required to own a permit before creating any form of drug for public consumption." In other news, the St. Normia educational district has been halfway completed. The Arsinwood University of Technology and Science has opened its gates for new students, and the Corlenian Naval Museum has opened up once again. Still, over 58% of the district is covered in rubble and debris of shattered buildings. We do hope that-"

Hannah Garcia shut off her television before rolling over in bed and attempting to sleep. It had been the third time she had tried to cut through her restraints and rest, but her anxieties always seemed to be catching up with her every movement. Well, that wasn't it, exactly. It was more the fact that she could hear the hustle and bustle of downtown Port Novoda. If it was difficult to sleep in the afternoon, it was only slightly less so at 3 AM. She pulled up the covers until her muzzle was snuggled beneath the warmth of its fabric, and despite this small release of stress, her eyes refused to grow even a fraction of a gram heavier.
The sound of hammering on steel made her desperate attempts to slip away into subconsciousness even more difficult. Now the sound of electric drills and heavy machinery joined the mix. Not even a minute later, the resonating screech of sheets of metal being welded together joined the mix, and- "Okay, what on Earth is going on out there." She thought while her eyes slowly opened at the sound of a crane's hook latching onto a crate to bring it to some unknown location jolted her from yet another close encounter with her dreams.
She half-rolled half-drifted off her mattress to the open window. The moon's light illuminated the ocean beyond her, and the lights of nearby buildings cast shadows of other individuals on their respective panes. A look down at the harbor revealed to her a ship's bow, half-constructed and glimmering in the moonlight. It was slanted downward, and she could make out the emboldened words on its side. "CNDF Inquisitor" it read in its glory.
She thought at one point that all these sounds had to be connected to something, and given her apartment's close proximity to the harbor, a ship being built made the most sense. After all, it was the Port Novodians and their expert shipbuilding skills that created the Corlenian Navy and shaped it into what it is today. That was what they were most famous for and why the Corlenian government promised their leaders that they would be considered relevant and have a market to sell their expertly-crafted naval vessels to. This new ship, it would more than likely be naval, given Corlenia's history of over-militarization. Nevertheless, she decided that sleep was more important than her own internal monologue. Hold up... a call suddenly caused her phone to erupt in buzzing, as the light of the screen filled the room.
God simply must have not been on her side for the night.

The talk lasted another 20 minutes, something about work, another few words about friends, about the government, and a bit of meditation for the night. Finally, in a quiet room with closed blinds and locked windows, she could finally rest. A small smile spread across her face, as she felt the weight on her eyes increase in mass. A darkness blacker than night signaled her arrival into her dreams and-
Suddenly, the sound of clattering equipment and a faint swear shattered her focus and took her all the way back to the start. She cursed loudly, demanding that god stop teasing her for one second.

A restless night... again...