The atmosphere in the Presidential Command Center was tense. Holographic maps and data streams illuminated the room, casting a cold glow on the faces of the assembled officers. At the center stood Colonel Antonio Reyes, a seasoned military leader known for his unwavering dedication and strategic brilliance.?
Backstory:
Colonel Antonio "Tony" Reyes
The Ghost of Marawi. The Relentless Guardian.
Before he was Colonel Reyes, he was 1st Lt. Tony Reyes—a scout ranger from Nueva Ecija, raised by farmers, driven by duty. In 2023, during the Siege of Marawi, Reyes uncovered the truth behind the chaos: the city wasn't just under extremist control—it was the first battlefield in a secret war against General Malvado's Shadow Army.
For 147 days, Reyes led daring rescues behind enemy lines, facing horrors engineered by dark science and corrupted relics. Wounded and outgunned, he refused to retreat. In a final stand, he fought Malvado's first general—Khazmir the Bound Flame—buying time for a decisive airstrike that turned the tide.
He emerged from the rubble with three civilians and a wounded sniper.
Awarded the Medal of Valor, Reyes never claimed to be a hero—only a witness.
Because he saw what the world ignored: Malvado was real. And he was just beginning.
Now, with Malvado rising again, President Malvaron tasks Reyes with leading a new force—not of soldiers, but of legacy-bearers. Descendants of heroes.
Because Reyes knows this war isn't just about territory.
It's about history.
It's about legacy.
"?Gentlemen, the time has come to unite the Descendants," Colonel Reyes began, his voice firm. "The President has authorized the formation of a Special Task Force to bring them together. Our mission is clear: locate, secure, and unify the Descendants to stand against the emerging threats."?
The room fell silent as the gravity of the mission settled in. Each officer understood the importance of their task. The Descendants, individuals with unique abilities inherited from their ancestors, were scattered and uncoordinated. Bringing them together was crucial for the nation's survival.
Location: Tondo District – Abandoned Resistance Safehouse
The Special Task Force moved swiftly through the narrow, labyrinthine alleys of Tondo, where the scent of rust, rain, and history clung to every cracked wall. Hidden behind layers of scavenged metal and graffiti-covered concrete was the entrance to an old resistance safehouse, long forgotten by the public—but not by those who once fought for freedom.
Colonel Antonio Reyes led the unit in silence, boots echoing on the damp floor as they descended into a concealed stairwell beneath a rusted marketplace. The air grew colder, thicker. Every corner hummed with tension.
"Stay sharp," Reyes ordered, hand resting near his pulse rifle. "This was once a warzone. That kind of energy doesn't just disappear."
But when they reached the heart of the chamber—a vast room lined with broken monitors, half-lit generators, and resistance flags faded with time—someone was already there.
A silhouette in the half-light.
Not a prisoner.
Not afraid.
Just waiting.
Andro Bonifacio stepped forward from the shadows, his expression calm, determined. His shard glowed with a fiery red-like light against his chest—alive with ancestral fury.
"Took you long enough," he said.
Weapons were raised out of instinct, but Reyes lifted a hand. Recognition flickered in his eyes.
"You knew we were coming," Reyes said.
Andro nodded. "Yeah. After the President's broadcast... it all clicked. The Legacy descendants, the shards, the powers—we're not rumors anymore. We're targets."
"I don't know who they are," Andro continued, his voice steady. "But I saw the footage. I felt it in my chest when their powers showed up. Same pulse as mine. We're connected now, whether we like it or not."
He looked up, the ember-glow of his shard flaring with conviction.
"They're like me... and they don't even know how much yet. But I do. I feel it."
"The President showed the world who we are"
Colonel Reyes watched him for a moment—this descendant of Bonifacio, born in the chaos of Tondo but forged in something older, deeper.
"You want to find them?" Reyes asked.
Andro nodded. "Not just find them. I want to fight with them. We've been scattered for too long. It's time."
He folded the map and slipped it into his jacket, stepping into the light.
"Let's bring the descendants together."
Reyes extended a hand. Andro took it, firm.
"Then you're not alone anymore," the Colonel said. "Let's bring back the fire."
Andro's eyes burned with purpose.
"I've carried this flame long enough on my own. Let's set the world ablaze."
Location: Rizal Memorial Archives – Neo-Old Manila, Sealed Zone
The storm rolled over the broken skyline, casting flashes of lightning across the ruins of Old Manila. Beneath the rubble and timeworn history stood a forgotten fortress of knowledge—the Rizal Memorial Archives, sealed off by the regime decades ago.
Colonel Antonio Reyes moved ahead, his squad flanking him with silent precision. Each step echoed across dust-covered tiles marked with the symbols of resistance. Static buzzed through their shard scanner—it was resonating harder now.
"She's here," Reyes muttered.
Suddenly, the air shifted.
A swirl of wind scattered pages from broken tomes. The baybayin etched into the marble walls lit up like fire—ancient script dancing with energy. And at the heart of it all stood a figure, unmoved by the storm or the intrusion.
Ika Rizal.
She stood beneath the shattered arch of her ancestor's statue, cloaked in shadow and light. Her eyes blazed with quiet fury. Around her, glowing Baybayin words hovered midair—spells, memories, truths once erased, now reborn.
"You came," she said, voice calm but sharp as a blade.
Reyes raised a hand for his team to lower their weapons. "You were expecting us?"
"I heard the broadcast," Ika said, stepping into full view, boots crunching on fractured stone. "When the government finally show their faces, I knew they were either too desperate or too late."
She opened her palm. Her shard glowed a cool sapphire, pulsing with righteous anger and wisdom beyond her years. "I've been preparing for this moment my entire life. The history they buried? I memorized it. The fire they tried to extinguish?" She raised her hand and the air shimmered with ancestral energy. "I'm the one keeping it alive."
Reyes felt it then—not fear, but awe. This wasn't just a descendant.
She was a reckoning.
"Then you know what's coming," he said.
She gave a grim nod. "The Shadowborn. The lies. All of it. And I won't run."
Reyes extended his hand.
"Then fight with us."
She didn't hesitate.
As she clasped his wrist, the Baybayin runes surged, forming a spiral of light above them. The legacy of Rizal had awakened—and she would not let it be erased again.
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Location: Sky Vanguard Academy – Stormwatch Citadel
The elevator roared as it climbed past the clouds, slicing through the lightning-wrapped sky. Colonel Antonio Reyes and his elite task force braced themselves as the platform emerged onto the Stormwatch Citadel—a floating military base suspended in the atmosphere above Luzon.
Wind howled.
Thunder cracked.
And standing alone on the edge of the landing deck, hair whipping like banners in the wind, was Kai Aguinaldo.
She faced away from them, toward the eye of the coming storm. Her hand gripped a long, sleek skyblade lance, its tip humming with wind energy. As Reyes approached, the shard embedded on her back—hidden beneath her flight gear—flared a brilliant white-gold azure, responding to the wind and the tension in the air.
"You found me," Kai said, not turning.
"We traced the shard signature," Reyes replied, stepping forward against the wind. "And the storm answered before you did."
Kai finally turned, her eyes sharp, calculating. She was young—only seventeen—but carried the bearing of a commander.
"I saw the broadcast," she said. "Saw the others. I know what this is. The call to unite."
Reyes nodded. "We need you, Kai. The Shadowborn are already in motion.
Kai looked toward the sky. Lightning forked across the heavens, and for a moment, it seemed to form wings behind her.
"I've trained for war my whole life," she said. "Tactical drills. Storm combat. High-altitude warfare. But this..." She touched the shard beneath her collarbone. "This isn't just training anymore. It's history. It's blood. And it's screaming."
Reyes stepped closer. "You don't have to face it alone."
Kai smirked faintly, lifting her skyblade lance as wind coiled around her like a cyclone waiting to strike.
"I'm not afraid of storms," she said. "I command them."
And with a burst of wind, she launched herself into the air, twirling mid-flight before landing beside Reyes and his squad with practiced precision.
She looked up at the colonel.
"Take me to the others."
Lightning flashed again—the Vanguard had awakened.
Location: Neon Coastline, Cebu District – Floating Market Ruins
The team's hovercraft skimmed across the glowing blue shallows of Cebu's flooded coast. They passed half-submerged ruins of old neon billboards, their broken lights still flickering in the rising tide. Reyes checked his coordinates. This was it.
"Are we sure this is the right place?" one soldier asked, scanning the abandoned floating market.
Before Reyes could answer, a loud splash echoed from behind a tower of shipping crates—followed by laughter.
"Woo! That's a 10/10 dive! Someone better be recording this!"
They turned to see Basti Lapu-Lapu, shirt half-unbuttoned, standing triumphantly on a capsized jet-ski. He wore mismatched goggles, a necklace made of shells and keys, and held a soggy bag of chips in one hand like a trophy.
Colonel Reyes blinked. "That's him?"
"Yup," a scout confirmed. "Positive shard resonance—very... active."
Basti spotted them and waded over, chomping on his chips.
"Heyyy, government people! Took you long enough. Thought you were another Shadowborn drone. Almost threw a fish at you."
Reyes raised a brow. "You knew we were coming?"
"Please," Basti said, grinning. "I've had dreams of this moment for weeks. You. The squad. Me dramatically stepping into destiny. Super dramatic pose and everything."
He struck a heroic stance.
Then promptly slipped on seaweed.
One of Reyes' soldiers helped him up while Basti laughed.
"But seriously," he said, eyes flashing with sudden clarity, "I know why you're here. And I've felt it. The shard. The pulse. The ancestors. It's like someone turned up the volume of the ocean in my chest."
Reyes nodded. "The others are gathering. We need your help."
Basti slung a trident across his back and tossed aside his chips.
"Well, I've got a bone to pick with the Shadowborn anyway. They blew up my favorite karaoke bar."
He grabbed his gear—half armor, half beachwear—and sauntered onto the hovercraft like he was boarding a party yacht.
"Alright, Commander Reyes. Let's go save the world or whatever. But I call dibs on the battle cry."
Reyes sighed, half-smiling. "This one's going to be... different."
Basti winked. "You bet your ancestor's ghost it is."
The hovercraft cruised at high speed over the glittering sea toward the mainland. The wind howled. The mission was critical. The atmosphere was tense.
Except for one person.
Basti Lapu-Lapu was bouncing in his seat like a kid on his first field trip, goggles askew, one hand gripping his trident, the other holding a half-eaten squid-on-a-stick.
"Do you think that girl with the pen is, like, all serious and poetic? Justice speeches and laser eyes kind of vibe?" Basti asked, eyes wide with curiosity. "Hope she's not the silent, dramatic type. I panic under intense eye contact."
Reyes didn't answer. He was trying to focus on the mission brief.
And what about that boy with the gauntlet?" Basti continued, mouth full. "Is he tall? He sounds tall. Definitely got main-character energy. Should I salute? No, too formal. Maybe a fist bump? Or—wait for it—dramatic slow-motion handshake. Classic."
A soldier next to him muttered, "He's been like this for an hour."
"Oh! And that girl with the wind powers!" Basti leaned forward, nearly slipping again. "Sky pilot supreme. I saw her once during a storm—I thought it was a thunder god. Turns out, it was just her with that spinning lance thing. I'm gonna ask her to teach me a barrel roll. No—two barrel rolls."
Reyes finally turned. "Basti. Focus."
Basti paused. Blinked.
Then gave a mock salute with his squid stick.
"Yes, sir. Emotionally focusing. Descendant of Lapu-Lapu, ready to meet his fate... and new barkada."
He sat dramatically, hands folded, until—
"Do you think any of them brought snacks?"
Everyone groaned.
Location: Cordillera Highlands – Ruins of the Sky Tower
The wind whispered through the jagged remains of the Sky Tower, high in the Bontoc Highlands. Storm clouds gathered above, crackling with distant thunder. Rain slicked the stone and steel, and the air shimmered with charged tension.
Colonel Reyes and his team moved cautiously through the ruins—weapons lowered, eyes sharp. Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a soft hum of static that danced over their gear.
A figure stood atop the tower's shattered ledge.
Sani Dulag.
Cloaked in a storm-gray hoodie, hair tousled by the wind, he looked like part of the tempest itself. One hand held the hilt of his lightning-forged bow, faint sparks flickering along the grip.
He didn't speak as they approached.
Didn't move.
Just watched.
Reyes stepped forward. "Sani Dulag. The others are gathering. We're uniting the descendants. We need you."
Still, no words.
But something flickered behind Sani's cold stare.
A spark.
A pulse.
He took one small breath, then leapt down from the ledge in a silent streak of lightning, landing gently in front of them.
He gave a nod.
Subtle. Controlled.
But Reyes caught it—the way Sani's gaze lingered when he mentioned "the others." The way his chest rose just a bit faster. The way his boots angled toward the exit without hesitation.
He didn't say it.
But he felt it.
Excitement.
Buried deep beneath the storm.
As the team turned to leave, Reyes glanced at the silent boy now walking beside them.
"You're looking forward to meeting them, aren't you?" he asked quietly.
Sani didn't look at him.
But for the first time in that thunder-wrapped silence...
He smiled.
Just a little.
And the sky, as if echoing the storm inside him, lit up with a bolt of lightning that danced along the mountaintops—welcoming him into destiny.
Location: Mt. Banahaw Highlands – The Veilroot Sanctuary
The wind howled through the mountain ridges, rustling the canopy of trees that had stood for centuries. Fog clung low to the earth, like ghosts refusing to leave.
The Special Task Force stopped at the foot of a narrow path carved into the side of the mountain.
"He's close," Colonel Reyes said quietly, checking his holo-map. "But keep your distance. This one... he's not like the others."
They ascended in silence.
No welcome awaited them.
No resistance, either.
Only the deep hum of the mountain—and a presence that pressed down on the lungs like truth unspoken.
As they reached the top, a clearing opened around a sacred tree—twisted, ancient, wrapped in woven cloths bearing forgotten tribal symbols. Standing before it was a lone figure in a hooded woven cloak, carved staff in hand. He did not turn to greet them.
Ilan Lakandula.
He spoke before they could.
"You're late," he said softly. "The mountain saw your steps three days ago."
Reyes stepped forward carefully. "We came to find you. To unite the descendants."
Ilan didn't move. His back remained turned.
"I am already united," he said. "With the roots. With the truth."
Reyes exchanged a glance with his team. "The Shadowborn are rising. We need your power—your shard."
At that, Ilan finally turned.
His eyes glowed faintly with a pale, earthy light—like moonlight reflected off deep water. Around his neck, the shard pulsed with a Jade-green glow, vines seeming to grow around it with every breath.
"You seek unity," he said. "But unity without wisdom is just noise."
The earth beneath them trembled slightly—as if the mountain itself listened.
Reyes stepped forward. "Then help us understand."
Ilan stared at him for a long moment, then raised his staff and tapped it lightly on the ground.
From the soil, stone-carved faces emerged, echoing voices long gone. Visions shimmered in the air—of wars erased from history, of colonizers and kings, of ancestors who bled so their names could be remembered.
"You came for a weapon," Ilan said. "But you'll leave with a warning."
He stepped closer.
"When the final echo of the Jewel stirs, the Core shall awaken in silence. Only those who have faced their true name—who know not just the past, but why they walk it—shall glimpse the truth. For the Core does not yield to legacy alone, but to purpose. And those unworthy shall see nothing but stone."
Reyes frowned. "Are you saying—"
"I'm saying there are truths buried even deeper than these roots. And I guard them. Not all should be unearthed."
Silence settled.
Then Ilan whispered something to the wind—and it carried his voice far beyond the mountain, to the hearts of the other descendants.
A summons.
A riddle.
A quiet promise.
He turned back to the tree.
"You know where to find me, Colonel. When the storm comes... I'll be waiting."