"Some men forge weapons. A rare few learn how to make gods sharper."
The Engineer Who Vanished
Singapore, Clarke Quay District
Flavio Ilustre wiped rainwater from his glasses as he stepped out of the riverside café. He had been savoring the rare luxury of a quiet vacation, wandering through the late-night food stalls and neon-lit walkways with no deadlines chasing him.
The city thrummed with life.
Tourists laughed near the water.
Street musicians played near the bridge.
Everything felt normal.
He headed toward the nearby train station, hands tucked into his pockets, humming softly.
Then something offbeat brushed the edge of his awareness.
People moved strangely.
Not obviously.
Not enough to spark alarm.
But enough that Flavio slowed his walk.
A man in business attire adjusted his watch while standing perfectly still on the platform stairs.
A woman carrying a tote bag walked past him, then stopped right behind him without reason.
Three young men sat on a bench with identical posture, heads angled low as if waiting for a cue.
Flavio blinked the unease away. He was overthinking. Singapore was safe. No one would target him here.
He took the escalator downward into the train concourse.
A group of teenagers crossed in front of him.
A tourist couple stopped to check a map.
A janitor pushed his mop bucket across the tiles.
Normal.
Completely normal.
Yet their positions kept shifting…
closer… tighter…as if the flow of foot traffic was being quietly reshaped.
Flavio adjusted his backpack and picked up his pace.
He veered left toward the turnstiles.
Two people moved at the same moment, blocking that path without looking at each other.
He turned right toward the lift.
A man with a grocery bag stepped forward and pressed the button just before Flavio reached it, then stood directly in front of the doors, unmoving.
Flavio swallowed.
He pivoted back toward the escalators only to find the same woman from earlier descending slowly, her eyes empty and unfocused.
No emotion.
No reaction.
Nothing human behind them.
Flavio's breath stuttered.
He stepped back.
Someone bumped his shoulder. He spun.
A young man in casual clothes looked at him without blinking.
Another person approached from behind with the same flat gaze.
The pressure around Flavio's ribs tightened like a vice.
He was surrounded.
He bolted.
People shifted instantly.
The wall of bodies behind him surged forward, not in panic but in quiet precision.
Two men intercepted him near the exit.
A woman with a shopping bag drifted to his flank, closing the gap like she had rehearsed it a thousand times.
"Move aside please!" Flavio shouted, voice cracking.
No one reacted.
He sprinted down the nearest service corridor.
Shadows moved.
Footsteps followed. Quiet but synchronized.
Flavio slammed into a locked utility door.
He turned. The corridor had already narrowed.
Four silhouettes blocked the entrance. More filled the hallway behind them.
Their faces were still blank.
Flavio's heartbeat pounded in his ears.
"Wait… please… I didn't do anything…"
He tried to squeeze past the nearest man.
A hand clamped around his wrist.
The grip was steel.
Unyielding.
Cold.
Flavio gasped as another hand seized his shoulder.
A strip of fabric pressed over his mouth.
The nearest man finally spoke, voice flat and drained of humanity.
"Target secured."
A blackout hood dropped over Flavio's head.
His muffled scream never reached the main concourse.
He felt himself pulled backward.
Lifted.
Carried.
The last thing he sensed was the soft click of a van door and the hum of an engine.
Then Singapore swallowed him whole.
The Briefing
Mandirigma Warship
Joaquin Santillan stood alone inside the operations briefing chamber of the Mandirigma Warship. The war-room lights cast a sharp glow across the digital displays, each one frozen on a fragment of Singaporean surveillance footage.
CCTV grids.
Thermal scans.
Crowd-flow trackers.
And in the center, Flavio Ilustre's last recorded frame before disappearing into the concourse.
STATUS: TAKEN.
LOCATION: UNKNOWN
The chamber doors opened.
Gregorio Aguilar entered in civilian clothes, shoulders squared but eyes dark with focus. Agosto Santos followed, restless energy in every step. Renato Ramirez walked with calm precision. Marian Dela Fuente arrived last, quiet and composed.
Joaquin nodded. "Good. All of you made it."
He tapped the console. A profile expanded into view.
Flavio Ilustre.
Filipino Myth-Tech Engineer.
MIT graduate.
Lead developer of the Resonance Harmonization Protocol.
"This man," Joaquin said, "is the reason our relic enhancement cycles stabilize without detonating or fracturing the wielder. His process revolutionized how fast relics can evolve. The Anino want him for the same reason."
A holo-diagram illustrated relic resonance tightening under controlled harmonic pressure.
Marian stepped closer. "We still don't know where they took him."
Joaquin gave a tight nod. "Initially, yes. Their extract team used a stealth vehicle that left no transponder signal and no predictable wake. But MID-Zeta and the Mandirigma's long-range signature trackers recovered something useful."
He expanded a new hologram.
A map.
Singapore to Johor Strait.
A faint energy trail barely visible along the water.
"This imprint came from the suppression nodes embedded in the capture unit's equipment. They carried Flavio aboard a stealth vessel headed southwest. The trail ended near an abandoned refueling point off Indonesia."
Gregorio's eyes sharpened. "Batam."
"Batam," Joaquin confirmed, highlighting a small island. "Under this location is a decommissioned maritime repair cavern. Our intel indicates the Anino converted it into a holding and research site."
He switched the display again.
"Now for the part that complicates things."
Two relic holograms emerged.
A short black blade with red Baybayin glyphs burning across its edge.
A bone hilt.
The metal pulsed like it was breathing.
Itak ng Mamamaslang.
Golden knuckles followed. The surface gleamed with etched glyphs capable of shattering even relic-grade alloys.
Gintong Asero.
"These two artifacts were stolen from God's Locker in Quezon City. Both were used by the capture leaders. They are now confirmed to be guarding Flavio."
Renato's jaw tightened. "Those relics were never meant to resurface."
"No," Joaquin said. "But they did. And the wielders who carry them are trained, disciplined, and reinforced by a unit of engineered relic fighters."
Agosto muttered, "So we're walking into a nest."
"You are," Joaquin answered. "A nest designed to keep Flavio alive, isolated, and controllable."
He stepped back from the console.
"Suit up."
The four operatives issued silent activation codes.
Nanomachines flowed over their bodies. Civilian clothing dissolved into particle streams, reforming into matte-black infiltration suits.
Gregorio's plating sealed across his torso and arms. The Kamay ni Bathala along with its Eyes reacted in synergy.
Marian's veil restructured into adaptive stealth fabric. Sundang ni Makiling's mist thickened.
Agosto's armor burned around key articulation points. The vortex nodes on the Kampilan went alive.
Renato's suit pulsed softly in rhythm with the Kalasag badge resting on his chest.
Joaquin studied the group with a measured look.
"Your objectives are straightforward but difficult."
He raised one finger.
"Trace Flavio's exact position inside the Batam facility."
A second finger.
"Rescue him without alerting the entire island."
A third.
"And neutralize or evade the two S-rank relic wielders."
Gregorio's posture shifted, grounded and calm. "We will bring him back."
Agosto cracked his knuckles. "And break anything in the way."
Marian adjusted her hood. "Just show us the entry point."
Renato rested his hand on his armor node. "We move as one."
Joaquin gave a single approving nod.
"Your transport is already waiting. Wheels up in ten minutes. The Mandirigma will carry you within deployment range."
The Sandata Unit turned toward the bay doors.
Their suits dimmed their silhouettes.
Their steps were soundless.
Their intent was absolute.
Four relic wielders.
One captured engineer.
An undersea fortress waiting in the dark.
The operation had begun.
The Undersea Holding Cavern
Batam, Kepulauan Riau, Indonesia
The undersea cavern beneath Batam pulsed with the low hum of generators. Saltwater dripped from the ceiling in slow, rhythmic taps that echoed across the steel corridors. The maritime repair bay had been gutted and rebuilt into a cold, clinical holding site where no sound lingered for long.
Flavio Ilustre sat strapped to a metal chair bolted to the floor. Suppression cuffs pinned his wrists. His glasses were gone. His breathing stayed shallow as he studied the reinforced door and vents through blurred vision.
He tested the restraints quietly.
His wrists were sealed tight, but the ankle clamps were older.
Rust along the hinges.
Loose screws.
Maintenance done in a hurry.
He shifted his right leg slowly, pretending to adjust his weight. The clamp lifted slightly.
Good.
He rocked again, gentle and steady. The hinge loosened another fraction.
Flavio waited for footsteps outside to fade.
Then he pressed his heel down hard and twisted.
The weakened hinge bent with a soft metallic snap.
His right foot slipped free.
He braced his free foot on the floor and kicked back with everything he had.
The chair toppled sideways.
It hit the ground hard.
The shock jarred the second ankle clamp.
It loosened.
Flavio pulled.
It slipped open.
He rolled onto his knees, hands still cuffed behind him. He crawled toward the vent grate, positioning himself behind the fallen chair for cover.
A vibration shook the entire cell.
Lights flickered.
A low rumble rolled through the cavern as if something massive struck from outside.
Dust rained from the ceiling seams.
The cell door unlocked.
Two Engineered operatives stepped in. Their movements were precise, clean, efficient.
They saw the loosened restraints.
They approached.
The ceiling outside the cell vibrated with a bang.
The operatives paused. Heads tilted slightly, recalibrating.
It vibrated again.
Flavio stayed perfectly still.
Then the ceiling outside the cell crashed with a thunderous impact.
Concrete dust flooded the hallway.
The lights failed.
And four shapes dropped through the smoke.
The Undersea Insertion: Sandata Unit POV
Batam, Kepulauan Riau, Indonesia
A Myth-Tech submersible drifted through the dark waters south of Batam. Its hull emitted no sound, its engine signature cloaked by layered suppression fields. Inside, four figures watched the rock face ahead as the vessel aligned with a hidden intake shaft.
Gregorio's Kamay ni Bathala pulsed once.
Agosto's Kampilan ni Lam-ang vibrated in a low, steady rhythm.
Renato's Kalasag ni Bernardo Carpio gave a soft internal thrum in its badge form on his chest.
Marian's Sundang ni Makiling whispered with faint, mist-light breaths.
Each relic reacted in its own restrained way.
Not bright.
Not awakened.
Only acknowledging the danger ahead.
The submersible latched onto the shaft with magnetic clamps. The hatch depressurized.
"Move," Gregorio said.
They entered cold seawater illuminated only by bioluminescent strips along their suits. They navigated through the dark water until they reached the depth below the loading docks.
They rose, revealing their tactical headgears. Gregorio scanned the surroundings.
The coast was clear.
He gave the hand signal to enter dry land.
Gregorio led the way, followed by Renato and Agosto. Marian followed last as she scans the rear.
The team slipped into a narrow, dry maintenance conduit.
Footsteps softened.
Breathing steadied.
Focus sharpened.
"Flavio is two levels below us," Marian whispered, eyes scanning the signal trace Joaquin had triangulated.
Gregorio nodded.
They advanced through dim machinery corridors. Their suits shifted color to match the cavern's steel and concrete.
At the conduit's end, a vertical service shaft dropped downward. Reinforced ribs lined its interior. A sealed panel blocked access to the level beneath.
Marian scanned it. "No direct alarm circuits. Manual breach."
Gregorio tested the panel seams with his palms.
Renato moved beside him to keep the frame steady.
Agosto shifted behind them, ready to assist.
"On my mark," Gregorio murmured.
He applied controlled pressure. The metal bent with a low groan. Agosto delivered a precise strike against the opposite hinge. Marian caught the panel before it fell.
A dark cavity opened below, an unused ceiling crawlspace above the detention hall.
Gregorio descended first, landing silently on the support grid.
Renato followed.
Agosto next.
Marian last. She scanned the surroundings behind them first before her descent.
From this upper crawlspace, faint lights filtered through the grid below. Shadows moved under them.
Gregorio listened.
Two operatives walking patrol.
Predictable cadence.
Predictable pause.
He signaled the team forward.
Below them lay Flavio's cell block.
They positioned themselves around a large steel plate in the grid directly above Flavio's section.
"Three," he whispered.
"Two."
"One."
Gregorio drove his fist downward into the grid.
The plate buckled.
Agosto stomped at the loosened section.
Renato did the same for the other side.
Marian delivered the final nudge and the grid collapsed.
Light and dust burst upward.
Engineered operatives reacted instantly, eyes snapping toward the falling debris.
"Go," Gregorio breathed.
They dropped as one.
Four armored silhouettes crashed through dust and fractured steel.
Flavio jerked his head up from the floor, stunned.
From the smokescreen, Gregorio's silhouette vanished and immediately reappeared in front of the 2 Anino operatives.
They reacted too late. Gregorio already drove a straight punch into one operative's throat and cut the second down with a clean knife-hand strike to the neck. They were not sent flying. Something broke from within.
Kamay ni Bathala dimmed after finishing its work.
"Flavio Ilustre. Stay down.", Gregorio commanded.
He stepped between him and the hallway.
Agosto positioned himself to set up an ambush, Kampilan vibrating in tight containment.
Renato flash stepped in front of Flavio and activated the Kalasag.
Marian swept the corridor, her Sundang ready.
Engineered operatives surged from both sides.
Gregorio lifted his fists, Baybayin runes glowed one by one.
"Sandata Unit," he said.
"Engage."