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

October 26, 2025 — 10:15 AM

Sentinel Subic — Hall 3A, Prototype Integration Lab

The hiss of compressed air. The rhythmic whir of a milling head. The occasional clink of metal tools being exchanged mid-process.

The lab wasn't loud—but it was alive.

Carina Velasquez stood at a reinforced viewing platform above the main integration bay, arms crossed, observing as her lead mechanical engineer aligned the carbon-ceramic turbine housing into a custom-built test rig. It looked nothing like a traditional engine. There were no bulky pistons or towering cylinder blocks. Just a sleek, honeycomb-core structure that looked more aircraft than automobile.

Matthew stood beside her, quietly sipping from a black thermal flask.

"No leaks in the cooling chamber?" he asked.

"None," Carina replied. "The heat loop self-regulated within 0.8% of the theoretical curve. Honestly, we thought your specs were impossible. This is…" She hesitated, eyes narrowed in professional awe. "This is next-gen aerospace. In a car."

Matthew nodded. "That's the point."

Below, the turbine's silencer housing was being welded—laser-guided seams binding the inner baffling chambers to the outer shell. The carbon-titanium mesh would dampen the jet-like whine of the turbine down to a soft, almost electric hum.

Carina gestured to the array of parts laid out on nearby carts. "Fuel mix sensors, ECU housing, injection arrays. Once we finish silencer calibration, we'll dry-fit the full GTP-X unit into the chassis you delivered."

Angel entered behind them, her heels clicking softly on the metal walkway. She wore her usual tailored blazer over a white shirt and jeans, tablet in hand, hair pulled back into a practical ponytail.

"Update me," she said simply.

Matthew passed her the flask. "We're ahead of schedule. Carina's team's a beast."

Angel took a sip, then looked down at the partially exposed engine rig.

"It looks… alien," she said.

"That's the reaction we want," Matthew said. "The moment people see it, they'll know—this isn't a retrofit. It's not trying to be something else. It's a new species entirely."

Angel swiped on her tablet, bringing up the launch prep list. "Have we confirmed Tier-1 suppliers for the composite blades?"

Carina nodded. "We're pulling initial materials from surplus aerospace inventories. Long-term, we'll need to commission a dedicated plant for scalable blade casting. Graphene-SiC isn't cheap, but it's light and stable."

Angel's eyes stayed locked on the rig. "Good. Let's make sure the first batch has zero compromises. I want the Aerus to feel like a revolution—not a test case."

—

12:00 NN — Sentinel Auto Conference Room, Subic Branch

The room was minimal—whiteboards, three screens, and a scale model of the Aerus in sleek graphite-gray finish resting in the center of the table. It was a 1:10 rendering, printed in-house just two nights ago, and it already had people whispering.

The design was low-slung and angular, with turbine vents subtly integrated into the rear fascia. A front profile that looked aerodynamic but distinctly non-aggressive. Less sports car, more spaceship.

Angel stood at the head of the table, flanked by Matthew, Carina, and two department leads—Jonas from systems integration and Lara from advanced materials.

"No one outside this room is cleared to see this design," Angel began. "Even inside Sentinel, we're marking this under Project Nebula for now. Until we finalize the first test vehicle, we're treating this like a classified defense prototype."

Jonas raised a hand. "Will we be sourcing the vehicle control units in-house or partnering with an OEM?"

"We build our own," Matthew said. "No off-the-shelf electronics. The Aerus will run a proprietary ECU capable of adaptive load balancing and real-time turbine modulation. Off-the-shelf won't cut it."

Lara added, "We've begun lab testing the composite shell with titanium subframe support. It's featherweight—twenty percent lighter than an equivalent steel chassis."

Angel glanced around the table. "I want drive-by-wire. Minimal mechanical failure points. If we can eliminate all fluid hydraulics from the main controls, we reduce heat risk and simplify maintenance."

Carina leaned forward. "That's ambitious."

Angel smiled faintly. "So is a car that runs on a jet engine and doesn't scream."

—

2:15 PM — Subic, Test Chamber A — GTP-X Dry Fire

Technicians huddled around a glass booth as the GTP-X engine was mounted onto a test bench. Twin exhaust tunnels extended from the silencer housing to a vented wall, and above them, dozens of sensors blinked to life on the monitoring array.

Matthew adjusted the volume dial on the headset. "Let's do a controlled spool-up. 30% RPM, then let it idle for thermal drift analysis."

The turbine hummed as ignition was triggered.

There was no roar. No combustion bang.

Just a steady, rising whine—smooth, pure, and contained.

The numbers climbed:

Idle RPM: 18,400

Core Temp: 437°C

Output Pressure: Stable

Vibration Index: 0.03 RMS

Angel watched silently as the readings stabilized.

"Not bad for a first fire," she murmured.

Carina whispered, "It's… beautiful."

The turbine purred.

—

6:45 PM — Manila, Rockwell — Their Apartment

Later that evening, the city lights returned to the edges of their life. Aurora was already asleep in her crib, and Angel stood in the kitchen reheating rice while Matthew scribbled in a worn leather notebook at the dining table.

He was sketching something—part of the intake redesign, perhaps. Something to do with airflow over the rear stabilizer.

Angel walked over, placing a plate beside him. "Dinner."

He looked up, bleary-eyed. "Did I eat lunch?"

"You didn't," she said, sitting beside him. "But you built a turbine car, so I'll let it slide."

Matthew exhaled, setting his pen down. "She's alive, Angel. The engine—it's real."

She nodded. "And we're just getting started."

He reached over, lacing his fingers through hers.

"What if this really works?" he asked. "What if we've just rewritten the rules?"

Angel leaned against his shoulder. "Then we build the roadmap."

"And after that?"

She smiled. "We build the road."

Outside, the night rolled on.

And inside—somewhere between warmth, blueprints, and the steady breath of their daughter—they laid the next foundation.

Not for power.

Not for profit.

But for motion.

For legacy.

And for the soft, whispering hum of turbines that would carry the world forward—quietly, but forever.