Chapter 35: The Heart in the Darkness of Doubt
Erik's POV
The morning in the old warehouse that had become my prison was quiet, save for the faint clanging of metal echoing from afar. Sunlight filtered through cracks in the roof, but it wasn't enough to dispel the chill that clung to my skin.
I sat on a broken chair, eating a modest breakfast—a piece of bread and a bowl of hot soup provided by Apyong's men. The food tasted bitter on my tongue, not because of its quality, but because of the weight of my thoughts.
Across from me, Señor Apyong sat in his wheelchair, his eyes sharp yet tinged with concern. Beside him was Miss Jana, silent but with a presence like a shadow poised to strike. Their gazes felt like daggers piercing my chest, but I refused to let them unsettle me.
I knew the moments ahead would determine whether I could continue on the path I'd chosen as Ifugao.
"How are you feeling, Ifugao?" Apyong asked, his voice calm but carrying a weight that hinted at a deeper purpose. "Do you still want to pursue this? Being a hero?"
I didn't answer immediately. Each bite of bread felt like I was chewing on my doubts. In over ten battles against Jana, I hadn't won a single one. Her tentacles, like living shadows of an octopus, were too fast, too strong. Yet, despite the pain in my body—like a thousand needles stabbing me—my heart remained steadfast. "I'm not giving up, Señor Apyong," I said, my voice soft but brimming with resolve. "I know I'm not strong enough to defeat Miss Jana yet, but I still want to be a hero. I want to protect people."
Apyong smiled, but his smile was laced with sorrow. "Your courage is admirable, Ifugao. But courage alone isn't enough to save people," he said, his words sinking into my chest like a heavy stone. "Many have tried to be heroes—sugos like you, full of dreams and purpose. But most of them failed. They died before they could fulfill their missions."
His words hit me like a splash of cold water. I felt a pang of sadness, and for the first time, fear crept in—a deep awareness of the weight of the path I was treading.
"Is it really impossible, Apyong?" I asked, my voice nearly breaking. "Is it truly impossible for me to become a hero?"
Before Apyong could respond, Jana interjected. "Anyone can be a hero, Ifugao," she said, her tone sharp but carrying a thread of truth. "But the reality is, most of them just die. My question to you is this: What do you really want to do? Do you understand the consequences of your actions? If you face other generals, they won't hesitate to kill you in battle."
I bowed my head, my hands tightening around the bowl of soup. I didn't know how to answer her. "I don't know exactly what to do, Jana," I admitted, my voice raw with honesty. "All I know is that the violence has to stop. I just want to bring peace to this country. That's why I'm doing this."
Jana didn't like my answer. She shook her head, her eyes filled with disappointment. "You sound like a child playing a game, Erik," she said, her voice like a whip lashing at my heart. "You don't understand the weight of the responsibility you're trying to take on. If you try to help the Filipinos, you'll make enemies of the Spanish. But if you side with the Spanish, you'll be a traitor in the eyes of other Filipinos. I know this because I've been through it."
I stared at her, surprised by her words. "Why did you join the military, Jana?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. "Why did you fight against your fellow Filipinos?"
She took a deep breath, and for the first time, I saw sadness in her eyes. "I joined the military because I wanted influence, power," she admitted, her voice soft but heavy with regret. "I won't deny that part of me wanted to protect Filipinos, but I also won't deny that I turned my back on some of them. Long ago, I used my sugo powers against abusive Spaniards. For five years, I was a vigilante, fighting here and there. But one day, I realized I was gaining nothing. I fought, but the abuse never stopped. In the end, I was just exhausted, failing to achieve true peace."
I glanced at Apyong, who listened silently. "But when I met General Apyong," Jana continued, "he gave me new hope. He showed me I could help my people in another way—by joining the military. That way, I could protect the territory entrusted to me by my diwata, and the people there could live in peace."
I looked at Apyong, my curiosity deepening. "If that's the case, Señor Apyong, why are you giving me this chance?" I asked, my voice tinged with wonder. "Even now, the Spanish are hunting me as Ifugao. As a government general, why aren't you arresting me?"
Apyong smiled, his smile carrying a hint of mystery. "There are things I must do to maintain balance, Erik," he said, his voice calm but purposeful. He took a deep breath, as if waiting for the right moment to explain. "I want to train you as a warrior—a warrior capable of fighting even generals like me."
I was stunned, and even Jana looked at Apyong, her eyes filled with doubt. "What do you mean, General?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
Apyong smiled, unfazed by her reaction. "We generals are bound by the laws and rules of the Spanish. We have power in this country, but we can't ensure the safety of all Filipinos. Take Bulacan, for example—the abuse in Plaridel is rampant because of Spanish officials. But since Bulacan isn't under my authority, I can do nothing there. We can't fight fellow generals, even when they're wrong."
I looked at Apyong, feeling the weight of his words. "There must be balance, Erik," he continued. "And I want you to do what I cannot. I want you to fight the generals when they no longer know what they're doing. Stop them from killing Filipinos."
I was shocked, my mind reeling. "Why me, Señor Apyong?" I asked, my voice heavy with doubt. "Why do you want me to do this?"
Apyong admitted, "You're not that skilled in combat yet, Ifugao. You're still young. But you were recommended by Laguna." He smiled, as if holding a secret I didn't yet understand. "I spoke with Laguna, and he said you have great potential."
I was confused. "Laguna?" I asked, my mind drifting to memories. "I've never met him. My diwata only told me that Laguna saved me when I lost consciousness in Pangasinan."
Apyong laughed, his laughter light but meaningful. "Laguna never shows himself to others. He moves in secret, like a shadow you can never catch. He's one of the five strongest sugos in the Philippines. If you ask me, Laguna could take on even the Espadas of Spain—the most powerful warriors of that nation."
I was stunned by what I learned about Laguna. "If Laguna is that strong, why did he recommend me for what you want? Why doesn't he fight for the Filipinos himself?" I asked, my voice filled with curiosity.
"Laguna's hands are tied too," Apyong replied. "The Spanish know him and recognize his power. If they learn he's fighting the government, Spain will send the Espadas here."
"Espadas?" I asked.
"The Espadas—the King-class warriors of Spain—are sent to wars. If they come to the Philippines, blood will surely spill, and a tragedy far worse than we can imagine will unfold."
I nodded, though my mind was still a whirlwind of confusion. "But how can he be sure I can fight?" I asked, my voice soft. "Even I doubt I can defeat the generals."
Apyong smiled, and for the first time, I saw hope in his eyes. "Today, Jana will teach you how to unlock the true potential of your sugo powers. We call it 'Hyper Mode.' According to the Spanish knowledge of diwata powers, it's the way to unleash a sugo's most powerful form. It takes time to master, but if you grasp the concept and method, it's not impossible to learn it quickly."
Jana suddenly interjected, her voice laced with doubt. "General, are you sure we should teach him this? He could become an enemy of the government in the future."
Apyong smiled, unshaken. "Are you afraid, Jana, that one day Ifugao might defeat you in battle?" he asked, his tone teasing.
Jana denied it, her face flushing with irritation. "This isn't about me, General! It's about the government's leadership. I'm worried the other generals might find out."
"They won't know unless someone talks," Apyong replied, his voice calm but confident. "No one can say what's right or wrong in this world, Jana. If our decision to side with the Spanish government turns out to be wrong, someone must stop us. And I believe Erik is the one who can do that."
I was speechless. I bowed my head, my heart heavy with doubt. I didn't know if I could truly defeat the generals, but I was ready to try. I was ready to stop what was wrong, no matter how many times I failed—I would rise and fight again.
**End of Erik's POV**
**Georgia's POV**
Meanwhile, in Plaridel, the morning was steeped in chaos. The town seemed cloaked in a dark cloud, the air heavy with fear and anger. Early in the morning, the Filipinos were roused from their homes. Because of last night's events—the mayor's death at Hustisya's hands—the Spanish police had grown even more brutal.
They forcibly arrested every Filipino they saw in the town. Children, elders, women, men—no one was spared, all herded into vehicles and taken to an unknown location. The cries of the captives echoed through the streets, but no one listened, no one helped.
Due to the mayor's death, General Vicente Salazar himself, the head of Bulacan's forces, took command of the Spanish police. In the middle of Plaridel's plaza, all the captives were forced to kneel, their hands bound with ropes that tightened with every movement.
Over a hundred people were there, their faces etched with fear, their voices filled with pleas and weeping. But they received only kicks and punches from the police.
"Be quiet!" a policeman shouted, his baton striking the back of a crying elderly man. "Make any more noise, and we'll hurt you even more!" The Filipinos could only cling to their families, their eyes filled with pain and hopelessness.
Moments later, General Vicente Salazar stepped onto a raised platform in the center of the plaza. His appearance was like that of a vulture ready to feast—his uniform gleaming, but his eyes burning with anger and arrogance. "I am General Vicente Salazar," he announced, his voice booming across the plaza. "I am here to end the chaos in Plaridel!"
He declared to all that Hustisya had killed a high-ranking government official—the mayor of Plaridel. "Because of Hustisya's crime, she and her accomplices will be punished with death!" he roared, his fist raised in the air. "No one escapes the law of the Spanish!"
From the vehicles, the police retrieved countless whips and distributed them to each soldier. Salazar proclaimed that everyone in the plaza was deemed a rebel, an accomplice of a vigilante, and their punishment was a thousand lashes each. The people were terrified, their cries for mercy filling the air.
"Please, have mercy!" a mother screamed, clutching her child. But at Salazar's command, the police began whipping the captives.
The plaza was engulfed in screams and wails. Even children and elders were mercilessly lashed, their bodies bloodied with each strike. From the platform, Salazar spoke boldly. "No one can defy the Spanish government! This is the punishment for rebels!" he shouted, his voice like thunder striking the hearts of every Filipino.
Hours passed, and news of the plaza's horrors spread quickly throughout Plaridel. The Filipinos hid in their homes, fearing they might be next. The town felt trapped in a dark nightmare, and every sound of the police's footsteps was like the knock of death.
At our house, as we ate lunch, I couldn't hide the worry etched on my face. Each bite of rice felt like I was chewing on my conscience. I knew the chaos today was because of what I did last night as Hustisya. The mayor's death had sparked even greater rage from the Spanish, and the Filipinos were suffering because of me.
Guilt consumed me. Every scream I heard from outside echoed within my heart. I was torn, questioning whether what I did was right. The people I saved last night were suffering even more now, and I was still the cause.
I set down my spoon and fork, my hands trembling under the weight of my thoughts.
"Apo, is something wrong?" my grandfather asked, his voice filled with concern as he looked at me.
I spoke suddenly, my voice brimming with resolve. "I need to leave, Lolo."
My grandparents were shocked and spoke in unison. "Where are you going, Georgia?" my grandmother asked, her eyes wide with fear. "Don't go out! It's too dangerous now!"
They tried to stop me, their voices thick with worry. "Georgia, anak, you don't need to get involved in this mess," my grandfather said, his hand resting on my shoulder. "Stay here at home, where you're safe."
But the anger in my heart was stronger than their words. I stood, my fists clenched. "If no one stops the Spanish, Lolo, their abuse will only continue!" I shouted, my voice heavy with resentment. "I can't let the Filipinos in the plaza suffer because of me!"
"Because of you? What are you talking about, apo?" my grandfather asked.
Since only my grandmother knew I was Hustisya, she feared I might go to the plaza to help the captives. In that moment, she gently took my hand, her touch calm but filled with love. "Georgia, anak, I understand how you feel," she said, her voice soft like a gentle breeze. "But you don't need to rush into decisions. Going there and fighting the Spanish will only bring more problems. It will only add to your guilt, your mistakes. You can't achieve true peace through violence."
I closed my eyes, and the anger within me exploded in my chest. I realized that even if I fought the Spanish, I couldn't end my people's suffering. Even if I killed the officials, new ones would take their place, and the abuse would continue. Suddenly, I was afraid—afraid for myself, afraid that my decisions might be wrong.
I broke down, crying like a child, and clung to my grandmother. "I made a mistake, Lola," I said, my voice shattered with pain. "I regret what I did. Because of me, people are suffering more. What should I do? I'm scared, but I don't want our family to get hurt."
My grandmother soothed me, stroking my head as her words wrapped around me like a warm embrace. "You don't need to do anything, apo," she said, her voice full of love. "Your grandfather and I are old. We're in the final chapter of our lives. We're ready to go if that's our fate. But you, Georgia, your life is just beginning. You have a long journey ahead. You still have so much to do, so much to experience—love, building a family. Your grandfather and I want you to live a long life and experience the beautiful things in this world."
She added, "Not everything can be done by one person, apo. You've done what you could for the Filipinos, and that's enough. Stay here, be with us."
I kept crying, clinging to my grandmother like a child. My mind was a storm, unsure of what to do. I knew I had to act to help the Filipinos, but I wasn't certain I could succeed—or what the cost of my actions would be.
"Lola, I love you and Lolo so much. I don't want you to get caught up in what I've done," I said.
I was terrified that my actions would lead to another tragedy. In that moment, all I wanted was to see my family safe, and the weight of my decisions haunted every step I took.
End of Georgia's POV.