"Sometimes, the questions we ask lead us closer to the truth we seek."
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Southbound
Location: Pasay Bus Terminal, Manila
The Other Gregorio stood under the terminal's concrete overpass, hands in the pockets of his black hoodie.
Flickering lights overhead mirrored the city's fatigue. Armed patrol units from the Ahas ng mga Lakan moved through the lanes, their insignia gleaming faintly. Every intersection was monitored, transport routes were embedded with Myth Tech surveillance that supported traffic and telecommunications systems.
He felt it.
Low-frequency sweeps, pattern recognition filters, and aura anomaly detection protocols activated at irregular intervals.
He stayed still.
In human form, he blended seamlessly with others waiting for provincial transport. No energy leaks, no distortions—undetectable.
The bus to Biñan arrived with a hiss.
Its paint faded by sun and rain. The digital sign flickered, finally stabilizing on:
BIÑAN LAGUNA.
He boarded with the others. A woman cradled a sleeping child. Two construction workers discussed delayed wages. A student scrolled through news feeds about Anino movements and Spirit Breaches in Southern Luzon.
He chose a window seat midway down the aisle.
The engine roared to life. As the bus merged into traffic, Manila unfolded in layers of barriers and weariness. Barricades blocked some intersections, temporary watchtowers stood near government buildings, and MID Zeta checkpoints coordinated with Ahas units.
The alliance held.
He leaned back against the worn cushion. No one had found him. Because he chose to stay hidden. Teleportation creates spikes. Spikes form patterns. Patterns can be traced.
A bus ticket leaves no signature.
It wasn't fear of conflict that held him back; it was his potential for harm. He knew the existential consequences he might cause, and what he sought across universes might already be here.
The bus moved onto the South Luzon Expressway.
Concrete barriers passed in rhythm. Signs marked distance in decreasing increments. The city thinned into industrial zones, then open land with factories and warehouses.
He closed his eyes.
The aura was faint but persistent. It felt adjacent, not identical. Christine's signature was clear and structured, like a harmonic sequence. This signal was fractured—similar, yet different.
He replayed the resonance pattern internally. It was parallel, not an echo. He opened his eyes.
A toll gate approached. The bus slowed. Drivers handed over cards and cash. MID Zeta and Myth-Tech Police vehicles idled nearby.
An officer glanced inside as the bus moved forward.
His Myth-Tech scanner passed over Gregorio without pause.
No divine aura like Sandata Relic Wielders.
Ordinary.
The bus picked up speed again.
A man across the aisle spoke.
"Going home or to work?" he asked casually.
"Visiting," Gregorio replied.
"Biñan's quieter than Manila," the man observed. "But not lately. Lots of strange stuff in the sky."
Gregorio looked out the window.
"What kind of strange?" he asked.
"Black holes releasing monsters, humans with god-like powers, secret military tech—those things."
The sleeping child stirred. The mother adjusted her position.
He nodded.
The bus exited the expressway, merging onto Laguna roads. Traffic thickened. Construction equipment lined the highway where projects stalled after recent conflicts.
The aura strengthened slightly. It pulsed, then steadied.
He adjusted his posture.
The pattern displacement fluctuated, as if passing through interference.
His analysis aligned. This wasn't random.
It originated near a disturbance site.
He rose before the bus reached the terminal.
"Para," he said calmly.
The bus slowed near a shoulder lane.
He stepped onto asphalt warmed by the late afternoon sun.
The vehicle pulled away.
Ahead, Laguna Highway curved through an unfinished stretch marked by scaffolding and barriers from prior construction.
He began to walk.
The air carried a faint metallic scent.
Burn residue.
Myth-Tech discharge.
Something had torn through this space recently.
He crossed toward the widened section of the road. Emergency lights flashed ahead.
He maintained his pace.
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Aftermath Geometry
Location: Laguna Highway, Biñan, Laguna
The PNP Myth Tech Division secured a perimeter across both lanes of the highway. Mobile containment vans formed a triangular coverage field. Drones hovered low, mapping debris patterns with holographic overlays. Yellow tape fluttered between pylons.
A crowd lingered beyond the cordon.
He blended in.
Fractured concrete, gouge marks, and melted streaks marked energy discharges on the asphalt.
He traced the marks visually.
Four deep punctures indicated vertical penetration. Not from below. From above. The angles were nearly perpendicular, slightly offset north, indicating a forward drift approach rather than a static hover.
A PNP investigator measured a severed steel cable fragment. Another officer photographed an oblong crater.
He leaned slightly for a closer look.
Nothing. Only the tire imprints of a vehicle remained. Twin tire marks halted abruptly near the puncture zone. Rubber residue streaked forward three meters, indicating forced traction loss. Lift vector confirmed.
He moved along the perimeter.
A blackened asphalt section displayed radial cracking from a high-impact object. The central depression was cylindrical. One hook had fallen there.
To his right, a body lay under a thermal sheet. An Engineered Anino Sandata Wielder. Armor cracked at the chest plate.
Helmet visor shattered. The corpse had been moved but not extracted. Crime Scene Operatives surround it.
The aura spike pulsed again. Stronger this time.
His shoulders warmed. The Eyes of Bathala beneath the fabric responded. Subtle at first.
Then the Kamay. A faint glow filtered through the sleeve, violet and restrained.
He stepped back, out of sight from the nearest officer. He did not draw attention.
He waited.
An investigator turned away. A drone passed overhead, scanning the opposite lane.
His breathing slowed. The glow intensified gently. Not aggressive. Responsive. He closed his eyes for half a second. Then opened them.
Time stopped.
The wind froze mid-gust.
Tape held in a suspended arc.
A droplet of sweat hovered above an officer's brow.
Sound ceased.
Complete stillness.
Universal.
He stepped over the tape without resistance.
The air felt dense—not in pressure, but in silence.
He approached the corpse. Kneeling, he placed his right hand over the cracked chest plate. The Kamay ni Bathala responded immediately. Energy traveled through the contact point into the armor's residual circuitry and biological remnants.nMemory imprint extraction required physical interface. He pressed firmly. Dark purple light flowed from his palm.
The scene reconstructed around him.
Not as illusion.
As recorded perception.
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Reconstruction
Location: Laguna Highway, Biñan, Laguna
The highway restored to its pre-disaster state. Concrete barriers intact. Traffic flowed through unfinished lanes.
The armored truck accelerated northbound.
He occupied the perspective of a rear escort Engineered Anino rider.
Altitude: three meters above asphalt.
Velocity: synchronized with the truck.
Stabilizers compensated for crosswinds from open scaffolding to the left.
Three riders remained at the rear, while two flanked the sides.
Behind them, two Sandata Wielders pursued relentlessly. One of the riders emitted a resonance that stirred something deep within the memory feed—a familiar structure, characterized by a lower amplitude and a violet hue. It was his other self.
The two rear riders who flanked were swiftly neutralized by the two Sandata Wielders.
The rider adjusted formation.
Above—
Clouds parted.
The Obsidian Wing descended, massive and silent. Hull panels opened beneath it.
Four heavy grappling hooks deployed downward. Each launched through compressed propulsion, recoiling visibly from the airship. Hook One pierced the truck's roof. Hook Two embedded near the rear frame. Cables tightened instantly.
The truck jerked upward. Rear tires lifted first. Front tires dragged, leaving rubber streaks.
His other self leapt from his hover bike, catching the truck's rear edge. He was able to punch a hole into the armored truck.
Inside, a figure struggled against restraints.
The other Sandata Wielder, with a blowgun, pursued the armored truck, aligning his shot. A sonic projectile struck one of the cables.
Impact point: a rear hook. The steel fractured. The hook snapped free.
It fell, crushing an abandoned car. Three cables remained.
The truck tilted but ascended.
Then—
A crimson slash wave surged from the right flank. Its origin was outside the rider's formation. His other self was able to evade. The slash severed a remaining cable at mid-tension.
The lower segment recoiled, slamming into the highway, cracking asphalt. Two cables remained intact. Load redistributed instantly.
The Obsidian Wing increased thrust.
The truck pitched nose-down before stabilizing under the pull of the final two hooks.
The rider attempted to intercept—
Impact.
A sonic round struck the rider's flank.
Stabilizers failed.
The hover bike spiraled.
Vision inverted.
He saw the sky.
The truck rising steeply.
Hooks retracting.
Bay doors opening beneath the Obsidian Wing.
The armored truck drawn inward.
Doors closing.
The airship ascended through clouds.
Signal destabilized.
Ground impact.
Helmet visor shattered.
Visual feed collapsed into static.
End of sequence.
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Return to Stillness
Location: Laguna Highway, Biñan, Laguna
The highway reappeared in its frozen present.
He withdrew his hand.
The corpse remained lifeless beneath the sheet.
The glow around the Kamay dimmed.
The Eye of Bathala cooled.
He stood. Analyzed. The aura he sensed didn't originate from the corpse. It pulsed during the reconstruction. Specifically when Kristel came into view.
Not direct detection.
Resonance alignment.
Parallel frequency confirmation.
He stepped back across the barricade. Returned to his previous position within the crowd.
Time resumed.
The wind resumed its motion.
Tape snapped lightly.
The droplet of sweat fell from the officer's brow.
No one noticed the interruption.
A PNP investigator reported to a superior.
"The lift vector aligns with our predictions," the investigator said.
The Other Gregorio turned away slowly. He walked toward the northbound curve where tire marks ended. He looked upward.
The sky was clear.
He extended his senses again. Christine's aura was stronger here.
Christine and Kristel. Two sides of the same coin. Balance structures forming independently.
He lowered his gaze. He had limited time before detection grids became too dense for subtle presence. He inhaled slowly. Then exhaled. His eyes narrowed slightly.
The aura pulsed once more.
Not from the sky.
From beyond the northern horizon.
He turned toward that direction. Biñan was no longer the destination. It had become the threshold.
Behind him, an officer called for more containment tape.
A drone shifted altitude.
The world continued.
Unaware that time had stopped once here.
He stepped away from the perimeter.
Walked toward a side road leading into a residential cluster. He did not look back at the highway again, disappearing into the quiet streets of Laguna, carrying power that would shift the axis of the coming confrontation.
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Crimson Shadow
Location: Floating Fortress of New Malacañang, South China Sea
The chamber was mid-deliberation when a vertical seam of darkness opened along the inner perimeter.
Kuroda stepped through in silhouette form.
The Council Leader's voice descended from the highest platform.
"Report."
"Kristel has been secured," Kuroda replied evenly. "The Obsidian Wing completed retrieval. Resistance was encountered. Casualties were minimal."
A brief silence followed.
"The Other?" the Leader asked.
"He has already investigated the site in Laguna. He is suppressing his aura through conventional transit."
Distortion fields across the ring shifted subtly.
"Well done," the Leader acknowledged, devoid of embellishment.
"Your objective now shifts to containment."
"Tala, Aura, add another layer of spirit veil to Kristel's presence, " the Council Leader instructed.
Two silhouettes within the circle responded.
A deliberate pause ensued.
"Not entirely."
The central projection shifted, revealing a split violet waveform—nearly parallel.
"Permit controlled leakage. There must be sufficient resonance to allow the Other Gregorio to follow."
A final word resonated throughout the chamber.
"Breadcrumbs."
Tala inclined her head in understanding.
Aura Medina's silhouette pulsed once in agreement.
Kuroda remained silent.
The seam behind the Council Leader opened. He dissolved into shadow.
Deep within the fortress, suppression matrices recalibrated, and somewhere beyond Biñan's northern horizon, a faint pulse responded.
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Audience with the Gods
Location: Great Hall, Kasanaan - Land of the Dead
The Great Hall was silent.
Sitan sat on the throne of shadow and judgment.
Dian Alintana and Mandayog stood by his sides.
Laon stood behind them, ancient and unyielding.
The torches of Kasanaan had long since gone dark.
Maximo entered alone.
He did not kneel.
He did not speak.
He walked forward with controlled stillness, stopping at the center before the throne.
Sitan's gaze lowered.
"Report."
Maximo remained silent. Instead, he stepped aside.
The shadow behind him shifted.
Gregorio emerged. His Nano Myth-Tech suit formed seamlessly—adaptive black plating interwoven with violet circuitry pulsing in sync with his heart. The Kamay ni Bathala encased his right arm. The Eyes of Bathala ignited.
This was not a restrained surge. The arcane pressure erupted outward in layered waves. The obsidian floor cracked beneath his boots.
Lightning-like cracks raced across the Great Hall.
Pillars trembled.
Beyond, Kasanaan's foundation shuddered. The black river convulsed. Citadel walls groaned as if struck by an invisible force.
Dian's composure wavered briefly. Mandayog's war spear vibrated against the floor. Laon's radiant crown flared. Sitan did not rise. But the armrest of his throne split with a sharp fracture.
Gregorio's eyes burned brighter.
He did not bow.
He did not greet them.
He stood before the Gods, fully armed and fully awakened.
He had not come for permission.
He had come for answers.
Kasanaan trembled once more—
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The Cost of Truth
Location: Great Hall, Kasanaan - Land of the Dead
Dian raised the Sinulid ng Kapalaran. Thin, nearly invisible threads spread from her fingers, stretching across the Great Hall. They traced Gregorio's stance, his breathing, his possible movements.
Laon activated the Sinag ng Malaon. A crown of steady light formed above her head. A narrow beam extended forward, touching the air around Gregorio. Where it met loose energy, that energy vanished instantly.
Mandayog ignited the Apoy ng Digmaan. Fire ran along his spear, tight and controlled. He stepped forward, ready to strike.
"You dare to betray the Gods!?" Mandayog demanded, his spear pointed toward Maximo.
Maximo did not reach for the Sumpit.
"He deserves to know the truth."
Dian looked closer at Gregorio. Not at his power—but at his presence. She felt it clearly. "This is not the other one," she said. "This is the Gregorio of this realm."
Laon lowered her beam. The light remained, but it no longer pressed forward.
Mandayog pulled his spear back slightly, the flames tightening instead of spreading.
Then Sitan stood.
The Hall grew colder.
The Palakol ng Kasanaan appeared across his shoulders. Its blade did not shine. It darkened the space around it.
He stepped forward.
Dian withdrew her threads completely.
Laon dimmed her crown to a steady glow.
Mandayog stepped back and planted his spear against the floor.
They understood. This would be Sitan's test.
Maximo looked at Gregorio one last time.
Then he stepped aside.
Gregorio now stood alone.
Sitan lowered the Palakol. The shadows at his feet pulled away from the floor and rose into shape. Wraith-soldiers formed in silence—dark warriors made of shadow. They did not attack. They surrounded the area. Sealing it.
The arena was locked.
No one would interfere.
"Answers are not free," Sitan said calmly.
He stopped several steps away from Gregorio. "They change what you think you know." He lifted the Palakol slightly. "Are you ready to carry that weight?"
Gregorio raised his right arm. The Kamay ni Bathala ignited in steady violet light. The Eyes of Bathala burned bright and clear.
"I am," Gregorio answered.
The wraith-soldiers held their positions.
Dian watched without moving.
Laon remained silent, her light steady.
Mandayog stood firm, observing.
Maximo tightened his grip on his Sandata.
Sitan adjusted his stance.
Gregorio did the same.
No armies.
No allies.
Just one God of Death.
And one man seeking the truth.
They faced each other in complete silence.
The first strike was seconds away.