September 25, 2029
East Avenue, Quezon City
9:12 AM
Timothy stepped out of the TG Atlas and closed the door quietly. No press van followed him. No camera crew trailed behind. Just him, Hana, and two staff carrying documents. The LTFRB building sat ahead—concrete façade, peeling paint, tinted windows that didn't hide the fluorescent lights inside.
A small crowd gathered near the entrance. Not large. Maybe fifty people. Enough to make noise if they wanted to.
Some held placards:
"Electric Buses Will Kill Drivers"
"Modernization Is Just Privatization"
"No to Corporate Control of Public Transport"
A few recognized Timothy. Some glared. Some simply watched.
Hana stepped closer. "We expected this."
"Normal," Timothy said.
They walked toward the entrance. One protester raised his voice.
"Sir Guerrero! How much will you charge the public? Will this remove jobs?"
Timothy didn't answer. Security guided them through the doors.
