Ilocos Colony – Outskirts of Vigan
Governor Emiliano Argüelles stood at the edge of a newly dug canal, the early morning light bathing the wet soil in gold. A line of barefoot farmers moved in rhythm, passing buckets of muddy water along a chain. The canal was supposed to bring irrigation to three barangays that had gone dry during the last monsoon. Instead, it had become a symbol of something far more dangerous: division.
"Get that trench reinforced," Argüelles barked. "The walls are too soft."
A foreman saluted and ran down the embankment.
Behind the governor, a junior administrator whispered, "Sir… the delegates from Bacarra are waiting in the town hall. Again."
Emiliano exhaled slowly. "Of course they are."
He wiped his gloves clean, brushed mud from his boots, and turned toward his horse.
"Tell them I'm on my way. And warn the town guard—not armed, just present."
He didn't need another protest turning into a standoff.
Vigan Town Hall – One Hour Later
