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

December 3, 2025 — 7:30 AM

Sentinel HQ, BGC — Executive Communications Floor

Angel's phone buzzed before she even finished her coffee. The vibration was short, but the notification preview said enough:

BREAKING: Mysterious "Jet Car" Prototype Spotted in Subic Facility — Is This the Future of Philippine Mobility?

Manila Tech Daily

She didn't curse. Didn't throw her mug.

She just exhaled sharply and swiped up the screen.

Attached were four grainy photos—long zooms from across the harbor. Two of the Aerus chassis mid-rollout. One of the private test track. And the last—blurry but unmistakable—was Matthew walking beside the vehicle, clipboard in hand, turbine vents exposed.

The article was pure speculation. No names. No official confirmation. But it didn't matter. The word was out. The engine. The design. The suspicion that something new—something loud in its silence—was about to shake the foundations of the industry.

Angel hit the intercom on her desk.

"Get Comms. Get Legal. I want everyone in the war room in twenty."

—

8:15 AM — Sentinel HQ, 12th Floor Strategic Room

The projector was already running when Matthew arrived, hair slightly tousled, tie undone. Angel stood at the center, stone-faced, as the Manila Tech Daily article was dissected line by line on the main screen.

"This was not part of the rollout plan," she said without raising her voice. "Someone leaked this. From inside or from a contractor. I don't care. We'll find them. But for now—damage control."

The head of public affairs, Julian, cleared his throat. "I suggest issuing a soft acknowledgment. Don't deny, don't confirm. Just lean into the excitement without giving it shape."

"Too late," Angel said, zooming into the article. "Look here. They mention 'turbine-based propulsion' and quote an unnamed source calling it 'the anti-EV car.' That's not excitement. That's bait."

Matthew narrowed his eyes. "They're framing us as a rebellion against progress instead of an alternative path forward."

"Exactly," Angel replied. "We lose control now, and we let them decide what Aerus means."

Julian leaned forward. "Then we need a counter-narrative."

Carina's voice came through the video call screen from Subic. "Or better yet—get ahead of it. Go public intentionally. Early. With precision. Take the mystery away before they define it for us."

Matthew glanced at Angel.

She was already nodding.

—

10:00 AM — Sentinel HQ, Private Recording Studio

The studio was fast-tracked for Pulse Line promotions but had remained unused since the pandemic. Today, it lit up like a launch bay.

Angel sat on the minimalist set—white background, no branding. Just her, a matte black mic, and the Aerus silhouette projected softly behind her.

The camera light blinked red.

She spoke.

"To our partners, our supporters, and the curious minds asking about the images circulating today—yes, we're building something new."

Cut to a wide angle. The Aerus prototype, half-shrouded, rotating slowly in high-resolution renders.

"It's called the Sentinel Aerus. And no, it's not electric. It's not gasoline. It's powered by a micro gas turbine. It runs quietly, efficiently, and without the need for rare earth metals or a national charging grid."

Back to her face.

"We're not rejecting progress. We're widening the road it travels on."

A beat.

"Stay tuned. March 21, 2026. We're not just showing you a car. We're showing you a future."

—

2:30 PM — Manila Broadcast Network, Newsroom

Anchors debated live on air. Screens behind them showed clips from the Aerus teaser.

"Is this the Tesla of Southeast Asia?"

"Or is this another tech stunt with no real path to market?"

"Experts say the propulsion method is similar to small aircraft—how safe is that on roads?"

Matthew stood in the break room with his arms crossed, watching. Half the questions were wrong. The other half were calculated.

But people were talking.

That was something.

—

5:00 PM — Subic, Hall 3A

"Welcome to hellfire," Carina muttered as news crews started arriving outside the gates.

Angel and Matthew stood on the assembly floor, watching as engineers added a few security panels over exposed parts of the Aerus' drive core. Temporary, cosmetic—just enough to hide the proprietary geometry from long lenses.

"We knew this would happen," Angel said. "We just thought we had more time."

"We do," Matthew said. "We just have less quiet."

Carina handed Angel a new access badge. "Also, just got word. An observer from the Japanese Ministry of Infrastructure is requesting a formal tour. Said they're 'curious about noise alternatives in high-density environments.'"

Angel arched an eyebrow. "That's diplomacy speak for 'we want in.'"

"Want me to block it?"

Angel shook her head. "No. We let them walk the floor. But no turbine room access. And they get escorted every second."

"Copy that."

—

7:15 PM — Rockwell, Their Apartment

Dinner was leftovers—adobo reheated in the pan, rice that had been sitting in the cooker since morning. Aurora was bouncing on her jumper seat, babbling in a rhythmic loop as if she sensed the world had gotten busier.

Angel finally slumped onto the couch, exhausted, watching the livestream analytics on her tablet.

"Five million views," she said. "In eight hours."

Matthew set down a beer and sank into the seat beside her. "Not bad for a car we never announced."

"They're calling us everything," she added. "Tesla killer. Science fiction hoax. Disruptor. Dangerous."

He glanced at her.

"And?"

She smiled.

"They're not ignoring us."

—

December 4, 2025 — 6:40 AM

Somewhere in Tokyo — Executive Conference Call

In a tall building draped in steel and tinted glass, a roundtable of executives watched a clipped version of Angel's reveal. Silent. Cold. Analytical.

One of them set down his teacup.

"She's not bluffing," he said in Japanese. "It works. And it's not reliant on any of our lines."

Another leaned forward. "Should we buy them out?"

"They're privately held. And if you try, Hesh will smell the intent."

Silence again.

Then the oldest man at the table spoke, voice raspy.

"Then we do what we always do."

A pause.

"Watch. I am going to do some things to get what we want."