The ruins of the Abyssal Rift still pulsed in Sam's mind like an aftershock—burning, howling, whispering.
But New Intramuros had never been quieter.
Sam sat alone in the meditation chamber beneath HQ, surrounded by shards of ancestral crystal. His body was still marked by the previous battle—bronze veins glimmering faintly beneath his skin, faint streaks of Lapu-Lapu's fire and Bonifacio's lightning stitched into his soul like living tattoos.
He couldn't sleep. Couldn't eat.
Because something… or someone was knocking at the edge of his consciousness.
A whisper.
A word.
"La Liga…"
Suddenly, the chamber darkened. The glyphs flickered. Cold swept in.
And then—his reflection in the crystal blinked.
Not his eyes.
But a calm, deep gaze, shadowed by glasses. Holding galaxies of thought.
"José Rizal?" Sam whispered.
The reflection stepped forward. Not a ghost. Not a full summon.
A projection. Memory. Intelligence, given form.
"You've unlocked a fracture of foresight," the spirit said, voice precise but warm. "The Mind Seer's path is not found in strength—but in clarity."
Sam stood slowly, unsure. "Why now? Why me?"
"Because the Watcher was just a sentinel. The ones behind it? They've already begun the next phase."
Rizal raised his hand—and the room bent. Scenes poured around Sam like stained glass:
A council of cloaked figures, surrounding a cracked resonance core.
Rift beasts marked with human glyphs, as if controlled.
A masked girl, standing on a tower of bones—her eyes glowing blue.
"This is the Unseen War," Rizal said. "A war not of weapons, but of memory, belief, and truth."
"Then I need more power," Sam said. "I need to fight."
Rizal shook his head. "You don't fight an idea with a blade. You fight it with a vision."
He stepped closer—and pressed a hand to Sam's forehead.
Veins lit. Time slowed.
Sam gasped as waves of history rushed through him—colonial revolts, forbidden writings, freedom paid in blood and brilliance. And then: a glimpse of his own future—fragmented, chaotic, burning.
"Your mind must expand," Rizal said. "Because the next Rift won't challenge your body—it will challenge your truth."
The vision faded.
Sam dropped to one knee, sweating, mind spinning.
Rizal's voice echoed one last time before vanishing:
"Remember this—clarity is power. And there are forces that fear what you may become."
---
Back in HQ Command…
Valencia slammed down a report.
Rael looked up, eyes narrowed.
"They're targeting pre-Rift schools," she said. "Places that held ancestral knowledge."
"They're not corrupting Rifts," Rael said grimly. "They're manufacturing them."
A beat passed.
"Sam's not ready," Valencia said.
Rael shook his head. "He has to be."