"In the heart of every revolution lies the unwavering call to retake what was once ours."
Accross Burning Skies
Thunder rolled across the horizon, echoing like the heartbeat of a wounded deity.
The Adarna sliced through storm clouds above the western corridor of Luzon, its once-radiant wings now dulled by smoke and ash. Lightning clawed at the hull, casting violet reflections throughout the airship's command deck. Inside, the atmosphere buzzed with a controlled urgency — a disciplined response rather than chaos, a testament to the resilience of survivors.
President Esperanza Sinukuan stood at the helm, her black suit still torn from the siege at Cupang Bridge. Her right palm rested against the reinforced glass, observing the burning veins of the capital below. Entire districts had vanished beneath the overwhelming Anino Forces.
"Count the living," she murmured. "The dead have already fulfilled their duty."
General Emilio Valdez, grizzled and resolute, nodded in acknowledgment. "Half of the eastern divisions are lost. MID-Zeta confirms Bulakan and Manila survivors are en route. Subic will serve as our final bastion before the seas."
Behind him, Joaquín Santillan of MID-Zeta relayed coordinates through his comm device. His voice, gravelly yet steady despite exhaustion, cut through the tension. "To a retreating units, do not engage pursuit signals. Repeat: our skies belong to the dead tonight."
Outside, the storm erupted into violet fire. For a fleeting moment, the airship's wings illuminated the ruins of Bulakan City — skeletal structures, molten glyphs crawling over towers like serpents. The once-thriving heart of the Republic now pulsed with the rhythm of the enemy.
Esperanza exhaled deeply. "Then we retreat not in defeat — but in preparation."
The Adarna banked northward, its wings shimmering against the rainlight, a wounded phoenix carrying what remained of the nation's leadership.
New Malacañang (The High Council)
Far below, within the fortress-palace hewn from the very bones of Manila, the New Malacañang throbbed with unnatural vitality. The Heart of Bathala, encased within a crystalline obelisk, pulsed faintly at the center of the High Council chamber — a relic of creation now ensnared.
Five figures encircled it, their relics gleaming like planets orbiting a dying sun.
Senator Datu Alon, rested his Dahong Palay upon the floor, its blade rippling as if alive beneath a storm.
General Ramon Dimagiba, wielder of the Agimat, gazed into the obelisk's glow.
Governor Lakambini Reyes, bearer of the Abaniko ni Urduja, stood motionless, her fan restraining it wind gusts.
Congresswoman Aura Medina, wielder of the Bolang Kristal, observed the Heart's pulse with predatory calm.
And Ambassador Tala Martinez, tapped the quill of the Panulat ng mga Makata against her palm, each tap echoing a word yet unwritten.
Dimagiba broke the silence. "The President remains unaware of who is truly orchestrating these events."
"Let her remain in ignorance," replied Lakambini. "Leaders enslaved by the illusion of control will forever be it's puppet."
The Heart throbbed once more — a sorrowful sound, like a memory of gods imprisoned in marble. Lines of Baybayin glyphs crawled up the chamber walls, forming a lattice of containment wards. With each pulse, the wards weakened slightly, and beneath, something smiled in the darkness.
Unseen above the chamber, a serpent shadow coiled around the dome's ceiling — a whisper of Raja's sovereignty.
Manila Retribution
Meanwhile, the sky over Manila glowed like crimson eclipse before succumbing to ash.
Atop the ruins of City Hall, Raja lifted the Pamana ni Lakan high. The Haring Sawa slithered around him, its many heads poised toward the horizon. Kalawit, Shinken Amakiri and Phaya Khamdee stood beside him.
"Let the gods witness the lessons learned by kings," Raja proclaimed.
The Hydra Coil surged outward, serpentine heads intercepting relic projectiles from the engineered Anino Relic Wielders. Each impact triggered ripples of dark crimson venom that melted towers and disintegrated sanctified wards. The air ignited with anguished shrieks.
Then came silence.
"Punishment of the Gods — Serpent Empire!"
Raja's blade does not strike—it commands. A hybrid of the Hydra Coil glyph emerged. The Serpent's eyes shine to a predatory crimson glow heralding the end of Raja's adversaries.
Haring Sawa split into seven crimson spectral cobras, each lunging with unfathomable fury towards the Anino Forces. Asphalt shattered through their wake and then a dark glyph etched with Baybayin Sigils erupted as the serpents hit their mark leaving nothing but dust and crater.
At that moment, Manila belonged to the Serpent King.
Order To Retreat
Back aboard the Adarna, Santillan's comm crackled with static. "All ground units, disengage.
This is Joaquin Santillan of MID-Zeta — retreat north to Subic. I repeat, this is not surrender. It is preservation."
His message successfully reached the convoy being lead by the Kabalyero navigating the fractured highways of Bulacan— Behind them, Anino Relic wielders sprinting with animalistic speed.
Sybill raised her Kandila ng Dilim, slowly transforming the black flame into a dark blade and sweeped a pursuing pack of engineered relic wielders of the Anino, slicing them with ethereal heat. Their lifeless remains scattered to the highway with sizzling burns.
Ricardo raised Alab ng Tala, its beam-like celestial blade launched miniature Suns at pursuers. They evaded with the grace of a dancer. However, the miniature sun exploded, melting the pursers with celestial light.
"You want darkness! I will give you darkness!", Sybill roared.
She raised Kandila ng Dilim. Black fire erupted in a spiral, engulfing the remains pretenders. Their screams mingled with the wind, and what remained disintegrated into luminous ash.
The Northbound Retreat
Kilometers behind them, the convoys roared through flooded roads. The fallen capital flickered in the distance, a phantom ablaze.
Sybill wiped blood from her cheek as another explosion tore through the hills. "They're forcing detonation!"
The Engineered Anino suicide leaping from the peak towards the convoy.
Ricardo twisted the wheel and maneuvered the Kabalyero to cover their allies.
"Brace!", he shouted.
The shockwave slammed into Kabalyo's voidsteel skin— Glyphs and sigil lights bloomed. The Kabalyero was rocked to core but it held. When the radiance faded, the Kabalyero emerged battered yet intact, headlights piercing a horizon streaked with lightning.
"Convoys secure," Sybill reported over the comm. "Proceeding to Subic."
"Confirmed," Santillan's voice replied. "Subic Air and Naval Base is active. You've done well, both of you."
Subic Air And Naval Base
At dawn, the sea turned silver.
The Adarna descended through the clouds, its wings shedding fragments of light that scattered across Subic Bay. On the runway below, soldiers and engineers guided incoming convoys — survivors from the Capital City and Manila.
The Mandirigma anchored offshore, its hull engraved with the Republic's glyphs.
Esperanza disembarked from the Adarna first, her coat whipping in the wind. General Valdez followed her, his armor still stained with blood.
She surveyed the base — a mosaic of tents, relic arrays, and the weary faces of men and women who had refused to yield.
"Raise the banner," she commanded.
The flag ascended above the tarmac - Red over Blue
The soldiers saluted, their relics and weapons flaring faintly in acknowledgment. For the first time in days, the wind carried not smoke, but a sense of resolve.
Strategic Assembly (Subic Dawn)
In the command hangar, maps of the Capital City hovered in holographic suspension. Red glyphs marked enemy strongholds; blue pulses indicated the remaining Republic wards.
Then the hangar door opened. Metal creaked with an echo and then they entered.
Yoo Min-Jun, guardian of Bonguk Geom, Korea's national relic.
Tsubame Hayashi-Hime, wielder of Tombo Giri, heir of Tadakatsu.
Sutera Kencana, bearer of Keris Lautan Niskala, the sea-phantom dagger of Malaysia.
Ari Sujatmiko, master of Tombak Nagasasra, Indonesia's shadow piercer spear.
Prasert Rattanachai, the wielder of Phra Saeng Khan Chaiyasi, Thailand's celestial saber.
Dr. Han Wei wields his Mei Hua Zhen (Plum Blossom Needles) with remarkable skill. He is not only a legendary physician but also a master of the Sandata Relic, specializing in curse invocations.
The air between them was dense with alliance and suspicion. Valdez broke the tension: "Each of you stands as a guardian of your nation's relic lineages. Yet today, our vows will overweigh blood and borders. We will be forever be in your debt".
Yoo Min-Jun propped up the General and quipped, "Your country didn't blink when we were the ones needing a helping hand."
Esperanza stepped forward, removing her gloves. The faint sigils of her own relic — Punyal ni Sinukuan — glimmered darkly beneath her skin, a weapon of shadow that absorbed light rather than reflecting it.
The dagger materialized and placed it upon the table. Its edge swallowed the reflection of the glowing maps until only darkness remained.
"Capital City has fallen," she continued, "As per Intel, a shadow terrorist group calling themselves, the "Anino ng mga Anito" we're behind this.", Sinukuan breathing deep.
"Their goal? It is not yet clear to us but it is confirmed that Bulakan is just the beginning. Tokyo, Seoul, Jakarta, Bangkok, and Shanghai are also labeled as targets in their holo-maps."
A silence followed — long, reverent, akin to a prayer at the threshold of war.
Then, one by one, the international wielders lowered their weapons beside hers.
The Bonguk Geom, the Tombo Giri, the Keris Lautan Niskala, the Tombak Nagasasra, and the Phra Saeng Khan Chaiyasi and the Mei Hua Zhen met the table's surface, forming a circle of light and shadow.
Esperanza turned to Santillan, who stood rigidly at her side. "Transmit this declaration."
He activated the comms array. All frequencies — local, military, and myth-tech — resonated with her voice.
"To all remaining Republic forces. To every allied nation that remembers our oath. At first light, we move — for the fallen, for the living,
Outside, the sea wind rose, carrying the echo across Subic Bay.
From the decks of the Mandirigma to the hull of the Adarna, soldiers raised their fists in silent unity. The first rays of dawn pierced through the storm clouds, gilding the wet tarmac in gold.
Somewhere far away, within the bound heart of the capital, the Heart of Bathala pulsed once — faint, defiant — as if it had heard.