[Flashback – Dapitan, 1895]
José Rizal sat beneath a talisay tree, sketching the future.
Not imagining it—seeing it.
His Vein was not of war, not of flame or thunder, but of clarity. He called it The Mind Seer. And it showed him too much.
He saw what Bonifacio would become. He saw Lapu-Lapu's death rewritten. He saw history bending, breaking, being fed to something dark at the edge of thought.
And he walked away—not out of cowardice, but sacrifice.
"They call me traitor," he whispered to no one. "But I have seen what lies beyond the revolution."
[Present – New Intramuros HQ, Vein Archives]
Sam stood before Rizal's projection—a ghost made of memory and intention.
"You held back," Sam said. "Why?"
Rizal's figure turned, half-light, half-thought. "Because knowledge is a weapon. And you are not ready to bleed for it."
Sam clenched his fists. "I'm already bleeding."
The room pulsed. Data and glyphs flared—and suddenly, Sam was inside Rizal's mind.
[Inside Rizal's Vision]
He saw:
The first Court of Logos, rewriting timelines using Rift distortions.
Lapu-Lapu being erased, replaced by counterfeit myths.
A future version of Sam—blinded, corrupted, worshiped by fanatics.
He screamed.
[Cut to – Court HQ, Shadow Chamber]
The Nullified General knelt.
The Director of Rift Strategy, cloaked in anti-light, reviewed a shattered mask.
"Rizal is awakening," she murmured. "Send in the Chain Monks. We sever the past—permanently."
[Back in HQ – Sam collapses]
Rael and Valencia catch him as his body convulses from overload.
"I saw everything," Sam gasped. "They're not just rewriting the future. They're rewriting who we were."
Rizal's echo remained—faint, flickering.
"Then write yourself into the story before they finish the draft."