Narrator’s Point of View

The city never truly slept. Even in the dead of night, Manila pulsed with restless life—sirens echoing in the distance, lights flickering across the skyline, and somewhere beneath it all, war quietly gathered its breath.

Inside his mansion, Antonio stood before a wall of glass, the glow of the city reflecting in his eyes like a thousand tiny fires. His jaw was tight, his patience long burned out. Behind him, Marcelo waited, silent and wary.

“Manolo thinks ...