October 12, 2029
Quezon City
Commonwealth Depot
5:40 AM.
The depot was still dim when Timothy arrived. The sun hadn't cleared the roofs yet. Dew clung to the metal railings, and the air carried the familiar mix of dust, fuel residue, and the faint smell of early-morning street vendors setting up nearby.
Except today, there was no diesel exhaust.
The first electric bus stood near the bay doors—plain white, no loud branding. Simple lines. Clean body. No chrome. A quiet presence.
Carlos walked toward him, holding a tablet. His eyes showed lack of sleep, but his voice stayed steady.
"Unit One is checked," he said. "Battery at ninety-eight percent. Aircon stable. Cabin temperature balanced."
"Driver?" Timothy asked.
"In the breakroom," Carlos said. "He's early."
Inside the depot, a group of mechanics stood around the bus, checking tires and inspecting the underside. They wore TG Motors shirts, but their posture was different today—less routine, more cautious.
