I'm The King of Business & Technology in the Modern World

Makati Shaft Site — February 24, 2024 | 8:45 AM

Beneath the skyline of Makati, where finance towers and condo developments brushed against the morning haze, Sentinel's engineers stood deep in the belly of the city. The Makati shaft—Segment 3 of the MMSP—was one of the deepest bore points in the entire project. Nearly 50 meters down, workers braved narrow corridors of rock and reinforced concrete, guided only by floodlights and instinct.

Matthew stepped out of the site elevator, helmet clipped under one arm, safety glasses already fogged from the descent.

Angel was waiting at the base, headset active. "Geothermal scan's been cleared. TBM Aurora passed its pressure test. We can start carving the Makati corridor by next week."

Matthew took it all in. Reinforced columns, backup power lines, automated stress monitors blinking in orange and green. They were building a city beneath a city.

"How's the vibration profile?" he asked.

"Acceptable range," replied a senior engineer nearby. "We're 30% under threshold even with daytime loads. No disruption to surface infrastructure expected."

Matthew gave a single nod. "Then it's time to start boring into the financial district."

—

Mandaluyong City Hall — February 25, 2024 | 2:00 PM

Up above, community meetings were already underway. Sentinel's engagement teams held open forums at every subway district. Today's stop: Mandaluyong.

Angel stood at the front of the hall, beside large infographic boards showing tunnel routes, noise suppression measures, and relocation assistance for areas directly affected.

"This line will pass beneath Boni Avenue," she explained. "You won't see it. You won't hear it. But you'll feel it—less congestion, faster commutes, economic uplift from new station hubs."

An older man raised his hand. "What if the next administration cancels the project halfway through?"

Matthew, seated near the back, stood and walked to the front.

"Then we make it so politically and economically suicidal to cancel this, no one will dare try," he said simply.

A beat of stunned silence—then murmurs of laughter and nods of agreement rippled through the room.

—

Department of Labor — February 26, 2024 | 3:30 PM

At a closed-door meeting with the Secretary of Labor, Matthew and Angel discussed the integration of thousands of new hires into Sentinel's rail workforce.

"Our internal estimate says you'll employ over 60,000 people in the next three years," the Secretary noted. "That's more than the BPO sector added last quarter."

"We want this to be a Filipino-built subway," Angel added. "We're opening regional training centers—one in Taguig, one in Laguna. All engineering standards will be certified by the Rail Training Institute and audited by an independent ombudsman."

Matthew leaned forward. "And we'll hire even more if we expand toward the airport."

The Secretary blinked. "You're pushing NAIA?"

Matthew just smiled.

—

NAIA Connector Briefing — February 28, 2024 | 10:00 AM

In a private session with aviation and transport stakeholders, Sentinel Transit Systems presented a new idea: the NAIA Connector, a subway spur line linking the Central Pulse Station directly to Terminals 1 and 3 via a high-speed loop.

"This reduces airport transfer time from one hour to under fifteen minutes," the presentation read. "It also links international arrivals directly to the entire mass transit grid."

"We'll design it with expandable dual-gauge systems," Angel explained. "Future-proofed for maglev or express pods."

"And the cost?" someone asked.

Matthew shrugged. "Less than the cost of not doing it."

Silence followed. Then a quiet chorus of approving nods.

—

Sentinel HQ – Subway Control Room — March 1, 2024 | 5:45 PM

The MMSP's master control room now resembled a command bridge from science fiction. Real-time maps pulsed on wall-to-wall LED panels, showing boring machines tunneling beneath Manila's crust like digital earthworms. Every thirty minutes, automated reports chimed in from seismic detectors, vent shaft calibrators, and tunnel segment crews.

Angel monitored the Makati feed as the TBM hit a tougher rock layer.

"Pressure spike. Decrease torque rotation by three percent," she instructed.

Matthew entered moments later, fresh from another field tour. "How's the drill holding up?"

"Like a beast," Angel replied. "But we'll need a maintenance pit ready before the Guadalupe curve. That rock layer's denser than projected."

Matthew nodded. "Set it up. I'll call Japan. Maybe it's time to activate TBM Rizal early."

—

National Newsroom Roundtable — March 2, 2024 | 8:00 PM

Karen De La Cruz hosted a prime-time policy roundtable featuring engineers, economists, and urban planners. Though not present, Matthew and Angel's subway initiative dominated the broadcast.

"This is no longer just a transportation project," a transport historian remarked. "It's a national narrative being re-written—by a private entity, no less."

A labor economist chimed in. "They're offering what government never could: speed, transparency, and dignity."

Karen summarized it best: "The subway is no longer a promise. It's a countdown."

—

Sentinel Rooftop — March 3, 2024 | 9:00 PM

The city was unusually quiet beneath the clouds, as if it, too, had stopped to breathe.

Matthew stood beside Angel again, their ritual rooftop visit now a part of Sentinel's heartbeat.

"The tunnels passed 1,000 meters this morning," she said.

Matthew tilted his head. "We're a kilometer into the future already."

Angel sipped her tea, watching the horizon. "And just beneath us… the first real hope of movement in generations."

Matthew turned toward her. "Do you think they'll understand what this means, twenty years from now?"

Angel looked up at the sky. "They won't have to. They'll just ride it."

And down below, the machines didn't stop.

Neither did the people.

The stars overhead blinked faintly through the Manila haze as the night deepened. Sentinel HQ stood like a fortress of light and ambition against the city's silhouette, each floor buzzing with life, resolve, and the subtle rhythm of a nation in motion.

Angel glanced at her tablet once more before tucking it under her arm. "By tomorrow, TBM Rizal will begin tunneling under Guadalupe. Two machines in tandem, east and west."

Matthew gave a small nod, eyes still cast out over the vast grid of lights. "Two tunnels. One story."

She looked over at him, curious. "What story?"

He turned slightly, a rare softness in his expression. "That we stopped waiting for salvation. And started digging toward it."

Angel smiled, not saying anything. She didn't have to.

Below them, the city continued to breathe—through traffic, through noise, through silence. But now, it breathed with a rhythm carved by steel and conviction.

Tomorrow, they would dig further.

And with each meter forward, history would follow.