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

March 16, 2024 — Sentinel HQ, Manila | 7:00 AM

The sky was still steel gray when Matthew Borja walked into the command deck of Sentinel's Transit Operations Hub. A fresh cup of black coffee in his hand steamed gently against the cold air-conditioning. He nodded toward the main dashboard—lit up in its usual riot of color and motion, showing tunnel progress across Quezon City, Pasig, Makati, and soon, the outlines of Cebu.

Angel was already there. She didn't need caffeine—her fuel came in the form of momentum and metrics. She stood in front of a rotating 3D model of the NAIA Connector loop, which now glowed green through three key access segments.

"We got drone confirmation on Villamor site clearance at 3:30 AM," she said without looking. "Construction crew rotation is on track. Japanese partners want a final site walkthrough next week before they ship the magnetic rail guides."

"Set it," Matthew replied, taking a sip. "Let them see what ambition looks like in motion."

A project coordinator called out across the room. "TBM Rizal just hit 1.1 kilometers."

Angel allowed herself the smallest of smiles. "That's more than halfway to the Buendia curve."

Matthew watched the digital markers edge forward. The subway had become more than a project—it was a living system, one heartbeat at a time. But it was also growing. Bigger. Deeper. Faster.

And it wasn't just confined to Metro Manila anymore.

—

Cebu Recon Flight — March 17, 2024 | 1:00 PM

The chopper banked over the island's eastern coastline, giving Matthew and Angel a clear view of Cebu City's dense sprawl below. Mactan Island shimmered just across the channel, crisscrossed with construction cranes and tourist traffic.

Inside the aircraft, two engineers sat with a laptop between them, showcasing a topographic overlay of the proposed VisMin Urban Rail link.

"The geology's more forgiving than Makati," one engineer explained over the headset. "But we'll need deeper aquifer studies near the riverbeds. And pier anchoring across the channel if we go undersea instead of using a surface causeway."

Angel leaned forward. "Get soil samples to Subic within the week. I want baseline data before we finalize the tunnel alignment."

Matthew's eyes scanned the coastline. "We're going to need a different kind of public rollout here. It's not just about moving workers—it's about stitching islands together."

—

Sentinel Media Wing — March 18, 2024 | 9:00 AM

"Cebu Pulse." That was the name floated by Sentinel's brand team—modeled after the "Central Pulse" interchange back in Quezon City. But here, it wasn't just a station. It was the promise of the Visayas' first modern mass transit system.

Angel stood at the center of a strategy briefing, reviewing early drafts of media assets. Posters, holographic station maps, and promo videos ran on loops in the background.

"We'll launch the name next week. But before that, I want regional co-op meetings done," she instructed. "I don't care if we have to hold them in barangay basketball courts. We bring the plan to the people."

A marketing lead raised a hand. "And the slogan?"

Matthew walked in just in time to hear that. He gave a simple answer.

"Not just another station. The center of a new story."

—

Leyte — Ormoc Survey Camp | March 20, 2024 | 6:30 AM

A small team of geotechnical analysts moved carefully through damp soil at the edge of the planned rail corridor. One of them radioed back to camp: "Soil integrity confirmed. Clay-to-silt layers manageable for shallow tunneling."

Inside a mobile command vehicle, Angel reviewed incoming data while Matthew adjusted his coat against the morning chill.

"We can have pre-designs drafted by mid-April," she said.

Matthew nodded, gazing out at the quiet hills. "I want the first station named after the city, but the second… give it to the school down the road."

Angel blinked. "Why?"

"Because the first kids who'll ride this line will be from there," he replied. "They should see their name on something built for them."

She smiled faintly, scribbling the note. "Legacy by way of signage."

—

Department of Transportation, Manila — March 22, 2024 | 10:00 AM

Inside the DOTr's central office, Matthew and Angel faced another full table of government officials. This time, the subject was Phase 3 acceleration—extending the subway into Laguna and Cavite while linking the southern arc with the NAIA Connector.

"Your pace is blistering," Secretary Baluyot said. "There's talk in Congress that you're privatizing too much public space."

"We're not privatizing," Matthew answered. "We're completing."

Angel placed two folders on the table. "Local hiring quotas. Compliance audits. Regional tax reinvestments. Every inch of this project is Filipino-built. If that's privatization, it's a strange kind of it."

An older undersecretary nodded. "And what of redundancy?"

"We're building a future where people have more than one option," Matthew said. "If that's redundant, I wish we had more of it."

—

Sentinel HQ – Underground Command Tunnel | March 23, 2024 | 4:00 PM

Beneath the HQ, a private passage ran parallel to the subway control deck—used for secure operations and emergency overflow coordination. Today, it held something different: the final assembly room for a new initiative.

Angel tapped her screen and brought up a classified rendering: TBM Bonifacio. A third tunnel boring machine. Larger. Smarter. Designed to launch from the southern subway loop and head straight for Cavite.

Matthew stood beside her, arms crossed. "We announce it next month. Quietly."

Angel nodded. "And what do we call this line?"

Matthew thought for a moment, then answered:

"The Southern Arrow."

—

Sentinel Rooftop — March 24, 2024 | 9:30 PM

The skyline of Manila glittered with a thousand points of light, but tonight, the horizon wasn't the focus.

Angel scrolled through the latest station concept art while Matthew stared at a new tab on his tablet—a real-time rail simulation stretching all the way from Cubao to Cebu.

"No one's ever done this before," Angel murmured.

"No one ever thought they could," Matthew said.

She looked over. "And now?"

Matthew raised his mug slightly, his voice quiet but certain.

"Now, we build for those who were told they'd always be left behind."

The breeze swept past them, carrying with it the scent of steel and earth. Below, the machines kept digging. Around them, the cities leaned forward—hungry for the future.

And above, under the faint stars, two people stood not as rulers of this movement, but as its stewards.

Tomorrow, the lines would stretch even farther.