“In the crucible of war, destinies not only collide—they are forged anew.”
Bataan Coastline
Renato knelt on the damp edge of the shoreline, Kalasag ni Bernardo Carpio planted upright in the black sand. Each retreating wave lapped against the shield’s base, leaving threads of foam that clung like vows he refused to forget.
The ritual was simple.
- One strike for those he couldn’t protect.
- One strike for those he still could.
- One strike for himself—because even shields crack.
He remembered his stepfather’s voice:
“Protection is weakness. You should learn to strike first.”
Renato had learned. But he chose differently.
The Kalasag shimmered, its prismatic grid reflecting the stars above. He traced a glyph across its surface—not for combat, but for remembrance.
“I shield because I remember,” he whispered. “And I remember because I survived.”
The wind shifted.
Renato stood, shield in hand, ready to absorb whatever came next.
Bataan Coastline — Battlefront
As the Babaylan warship emerged from the mist, its runic cannons ominously charged with ethereal energy. The air crackled with anticipation, heralding the impending onslaught.
The cannons roared, unleashing volleys of arcane energy toward Gregorio and Renato. The sky ignited with vibrant glyphs, a celestial storm of destruction descending upon them.
Reacting instinctively, Renato summoned the full might of Kalasag ni Bernardo Carpio. Three luminous shields expanded from the relic, overlapping to form a formidable barrier that shimmered with prismatic hues.
The runic blasts collided with the shields, their force absorbed and redirected by the radiant barrier. Gritting his teeth, Renato held firm against the relentless barrage. “Stay close, Goyo!” he shouted over the din, his voice a beacon of resolve.
Gregorio nodded, his Kamay ni Bathala flaring to life. “Ready when you are,” he replied, his demeanor steady despite the chaos surrounding them.
Together, they moved as one, executing a seamless dance of offense and defense. As Renato maintained the shields, Gregorio unleashed a torrent of ranged fist bursts, each strike a flare of violet energy that punctuated the air with precision.
Their synchronization bore testament to the years they had fought side by side, their bond unyielding in the face of overwhelming odds. They switched roles effortlessly; Renato’s shields morphed to reflect incoming blasts back toward the warship, while Gregorio shifted his stance to the Kisap Mata. Kamay ni Bathala bursted with purple spiral glyphs initiating its synchronization.
Maximo swiftly responded, “Cursed Scream”, he bellowed. A wide range of cursed notes exploded outwards from Maximo’s Sumpit. Gregorio evaded with consecutive flash flickers. Curse glyphs blooming upon impact on the surrounding area.
Maximo followed it up with ” Sonic Reinforcement”, enveloping the runic shells launched by the Babaylan towards Gregorio with sonic glyphs, increasing it’s velocity and damage output. Maximo is well aware that the tide of the battle will surely shift if Gregorio reaches 100% sync between the Kisap Mata and the Kamay ni Bathala.
Maximo spun, his fingers shifted. He whispered; “Sonic Bite”. He blew air and mana into the Sumpit and unleashed an invisible hellhound. It’s mouth opened on mid-impact. It’s fangs looked more like scythes designed to tear a target to pieces
In defense, Renato flickered to Gregorio’s side and immediately casted the “Wall of the Giants”. A massive defense glyph shimmering with blue aura stood between the Sandata unit and the enemy projectiles. The runic shells and Maximo’s invisible hellhound crashed into the massive glyph and caused consecutive explosions of arcane energy leaving dust and glyph residue on the battlefiele. When the dust cleared, the wall still stood in defiance. The onslaught didn’t even cause a dent.
Behind the luminescent wall, Gregorio smirked. He whispered, Kisap Mata/Kamay ni “Bathala sync complete”.
In a blink of an eye, he flickered and reappeared in front of the massive glyph wall. “Godfist Strike!” Gregorio roared, his fists aglow with celestial purple fire as he unleashed a series of devastating punches. Each impact resonated like thunder, obliterating the warship’s cannons with pinpoint accuracy. The Balanghay countered with its missile system, launching glyph charged rockets to its locked on targets.
Renato deactivated the Wall of Giants and flash-stepped in front of Gregorio’. Heaven’s Mirror!” he countered, his shield radiating mirrored brilliance. The reflected explosions ricocheted across the warship’s hull, wreaking havoc among the enemy ranks.
Gregorio closed in on Maximo for a melee battle. Maximo blocked and deflected Gregorio’s consecutive fist strikes while maneuvering desperately to bring back the distance. Renato joined in to reinforce Gregorio’s defense against Maximo while he deliver fist shots at the Balanghay to whittle down its offensive capabilities. Metal debris flying from the Babaylan’s missile silos.
Their combined assault was relentless, forcing Maximo and the warship into defensive maneuvers. The Sandata wielders stood resolute, their eyes locked onto their adversaries with unwavering determination.
Maximo, despite his impressive skills, found himself outmatched by the Sandata unit’s remarkable teamwork. As he retreated, Gregorio and Renato seized the opportunity, pursuing him relentlessly until they ultimately cornered him against the rocky cliffs.
Suddenly, a metallic creak pierced the din of battle. The warship’s door swung open, revealing a lone figure who exuded authority and presence.
The Balanghay, Prior to its Arrival at the Coast
The hum of the Balanghay’s rune‑engines was steady now, a sound former Commodore Juan Luciano of the Philippine Navy Command had learned to measure his own breathing against. In the quiet between orders, with the crew kept deliberately busy elsewhere, the Commodore stood alone before a narrow porthole. Out beyond the glass, the Bataan coastline was a jagged silhouette, dark as a clenched fist.
Habagat ni Silang rested against the bulkhead, its typhoon‑glass tip catching the faint light. Even idle, the trident seemed to lean toward him, as if impatient for the coming clash.
Juan stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around the haft. A low tremor rippled through the metal, a greeting in the language only wielder and relic could share. In that moment, he felt the pressure of every past invocation — storms called to heel, tides whipped into judgment, and lightning that had once fallen so close it seared his own shadow into the deck.
He thought of Panatag, and the night when the breach had tried to swallow the sea whole. He had stood then, as now, on the thin line between annihilation and command, knowing there would be no second strike if the first fell short.
“Not yet,” he murmured to Habagat. “Soon.”
The trident’s stormlight flickered once, in agreement or defiance — he could never tell which.
Outside, thunder grumbled over the horizon, far from the battlefield but close enough to remind him of his own voice when he chose to speak with a god’s authority. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the weight settle — not in his arms, but somewhere deeper, where oath and burden became the same thing.
When the call came, he would answer. And if the heavens doubted him, he would simply teach the sky to remember his name.
Panatag Spirit Breach — 2016 – View
The sky above Panatag Shoal roiled with chaos, the breach rendering a gaping wound in reality that bled spectral light and whispered sorrows. The air crackled with the raw energy of untamed spirits, while the ground trembled under the weight of their fury.
Amidst the turmoil stood a lone figure, resolute against the tempest. Juan Luciano, his expression steadfast with determination, wielded Habagat ni Silang with a mastery forged from necessity. The trident gleamed with tempestuous power, its typhoon glass tip channeling the storm’s fury into a focused spear of divine wrath.
With a fluid motion, Juan summoned the winds, weaving them into a barrier that repelled the spectral onslaught. Each strike of the trident sent ripples through the breach, forcing the restless spirits back into the abyss from whence they came. The breach wailed once more, then fell silent. Six arms reached out from the edges of the breach, pivoting an unknown entity from the void. Juan steeled himself with unwavering resolve. Finally, the figure revealed itself: a “Dyablo” type echo, its head emerging from the breach. Its face resembled that of a human, adorned with horns and a crown forged from pitch-black void steel. As it pulled itself free, a mighty roar erupted, a declaration of war directed at Juan. The Commodore did not flinch.
He called out “Bakunawa” for aid and levitated atop the legendary sea dragon of the Philippine seas. With a voice as deep as the ocean beneath them, he proclaimed,
“Punishment of the gods! – Heaven’s Judgement!”
The Heaven’s Surge glyph blossomed under him, a typhoon spiral split into three great prongs.
Suddenly, rain poured in torrents reminiscent of stories in ancient texts. The wind howled violently, stirring the sea at Panatag and revealing the land beneath. In the distance, waves rose to heights capable of crashing down upon mountains with the force to erase them from existence. Finally, a thunderstorm roared with the wrath of the heavens.
The once-feared “Dyablo” type echo was humbled, cowering for the first time in the presence of a divine power forbidden for any mortal to wield.
The Dyablo lunged, but Juan’s gaze was fixed not on the enemy — but on the path of judgement above him. The sky split, the strike fell, and the echo’s roar was lost beneath the voice of the storm.
Shortly thereafter, the remnants of the demonic being scattered across the Shoal, disintegrating into nothingness.
The air shimmered with the echoes of his heroism, the cries of the breach fading into silence. Juan stood alone amidst the wreckage, his breath steady despite the magnitude of his achievement. His gaze drifted toward the horizon, where the sun’s first light heralded a new dawn. The breach had been sealed, and Juan Luciano’s name would be etched into the annals of history—a hero forged in the crucible of catastrophe.
God Level Threat! Commodore Juan Luciano Enters the Scene
Juan Luciano stepped into the light, his expression a mask of stoic determination. The renowned Navy Commodore, celebrated as a hero during the Panatag Spirit Breach in 2016, now stood before them, his cold gaze fixed upon Gregorio and Renato.
“Habagat ni Silang!” Juan commanded, his voice resonating across the battlefield.
In an instant, the legendary trident materialized in his grasp, its typhoon glass tip gleaming with tempestuous power. The air around him crackled, charged with the energy of a brewing storm.
“Juan Luciano…God Level Threat”, Gregorio whispers following it with deep breath.
Renato tightened his grip on the Kalasag knowing the impenetrable defense will be put to the test.
Gregorio and Renato braced themselves, acutely aware that they now faced a formidable new foe. The trident’s presence was palpable, a testament to the legendary power Juan wielded.
As the battle reached a fever pitch, the tide of destiny shifted, promising a clash that would reshape the very fabric of their world.
__________
To keep up with Sandata, you can follow us on our Facebook Page.
Leave a Reply