Corey and Ian walked along the hallway, with the latter trying to catch up. Based on what Ian was wearing, Corey simply thought they were in some sort of church. The scene he was met definitely indicated something like it. The people in the hall wore similar attire to Ian, and the air was less sterile and more antique: the sort of atmosphere you would have when inside a house of considerable history. 

Though, that wasn’t the only thing notable during his romp through the hall, as the gazes that he was met with definitely made him aware of that. As he walked, he could see them avert their gaze as soon as he stared back at them. What is up with this place...

“Wait, Keeper Corey! Please don’t exert yourself too much!” Ian, despite chasing someone that was practically bedridden earlier.

Corey turned around, confusion painted on his face. “Whaddya just call me?”

“Ah, uhm, do you not...do you not know?”

“I don’t even know where the hell I even am.”

“We’re, uh, underneath the San Bartolome Church.”

“I’m sorry, we’re underneath what? I’ve never heard of anything being underground there.”

“Ah, well, uhm, follow me.” Ian gestured forward, to which Corey nodded to and decided to follow him. “So, you see, this was a bunker made after World War 2; we figured that during the renovations we could make it and, well, it looks pretty good I think.” Corey looked around again, and Ian wasn’t wrong. 

The cream colored walls were lined with warm, fluorescent lights and old wooden doors, each of them having a metal cross adorning them. Along the way he also saw an altar, with the typical arrangement of saints and figurines being displayed. Overall, it had a sort of comfort to older houses that felt like they had stories to tell.

“I never knew this was underneath the church this whole time…What’s this place for? Retreat? Why was I brought here?” Corey continued to look around, soaking in the weirdly cozy scene in front of him. People continued to gawk at him, and it was starting to get on his nerves. “...and why do people keep staring at me,” he grumbled under his breath.

Ian shook his head. “We’re…much too secretive of a place to be a spot for retreats. However, we do provide a sort of respite to some people. As for the staring, well, I hardly blame them. You’re kind of a big deal here.”

“What the hell even is here?” 

“Young man! Where are you going with him?!” An elderly feminine voice came from behind them, and as the two turned around they saw an older woman walking up to them, parting away the bystanders as she did. Her hair was still mostly dark, however wisps of it were starting to gray. She seemed to be in her 50s, with the confidence and gravitas you can come to expect from someone of that age. 

Ian was hesitant to answer, fumbling with his words until Corey himself spoke. “Uhm, excuse me lady, I’d like an explanation if you don’t mind?” A somewhat audible gasp could be heard from everyone else in the hall, as they all stopped in their tracks, seeing how the rest of this would play out.

The woman took a deep breath, then a wry smile crawled onto her face. “You’re quite the fiesty one, aren’t you, Keeper?”

“There’s that word again, Keeper.” Corey took his IV pole, smacking it on the floor. ”Is no one gonna tell me what the fuck’s going on?!” The lights flickered as Corey’s chest started to glow again. That white hot feeling came back, and he felt himself about to burst again when he felt a wash of emotion start enveloping him. It felt...calming, peaceful. He let it wash over him, and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath. 

When he opened his eyes again, the glow from his chest had disappeared.

“What did you do…?”

The woman gave a sigh, then a tired smile. “I’ve simply calmed you down, dear. If you want answers, you can follow me. I’ll show you around.” She looked at Ian. “You there, assist him as we walk.”

Ian quickly nodded in response. “Yes, Ma’am Cruz.” He went to Corey’s side, who gave him a look that told him Corey can handle himself just fine, thank you very much. 

The two followed her along the hall, as they started to go the opposite direction. “You still haven’t answered any of my questions, Ma’am. Why am I here? Why do you keep calling me a Keeper or something?”

“All in due time, child,” she replied in a calm tone. She had a confident air with her stride, and it quickly became obvious to Corey how much respect she commanded around here. “And here, my office.” They come to a door with a gilded frame this time, with the name plate decorating its front.

Gng. Maria Kristine H. Cruz

Tala Babaylan of San Bartolome Church

What the fuck? Corey thought to himself. Who the hell are these people…

It was a modest space, with a wooden desk in the center of the other end of the room,two large chairs facing it. The walls had different pictures and plaques, as well as what looked like altars to both Catholic figures as well as what looked like more pagan figures.

As they entered the room, Corey saw his dad was already inside. Sensing his immediate want to go very much the fuck away from the office, Maria immediately went to block Corey from getting away. “Look,” she said, “I know your relationship with your father is...strained. But this is a conversation that requires the both of you.”

Corey grumbled a bit more and slowly wheeled himself in as Ian still shadowed behind him in case he fell. As he took a seat on the other seat, Enrico opened his mouth to speak. Corey turned away, grumbling, shutting him down. 

Maria went to her desk, taking a seat as she rested her elbows on her desk, steeping her fingers. “Thank you for cooperating, it really means a lot to us.”

“You still haven’t given me a straight answer, ginang,” Corey said in a low tone.

“Well, I shall give you the answers you seek soon. However there is one topic we must discuss right away.” She pointed at Corey, her expression steady and measured. “Have you not been wondering what happened to you, child?”

“What? Of course I have. I started glowing and shit--oh, uh, sorry--”

“It is fine, child.” Maria put her hand up, waving it in a dismissive motion. ”I am not such an uptight senior that I can’t handle a few swears. But do tell us from the top.”

Corey nodded, biting his bottom lip. He told the story of how he had been coming home from a particularly nasty fight when he was ambushed by four thugs. When he was about to be kicked to a pulp, he felt himself go white hot and saw nothing but light. Once it disappeared, he saw them on the ground and felt an ungodly amount of fatigue.

“I see…” Maria was already starting to write down on a small piece of paper as she listened. “And what did you feel when it came?”

Corey thought back, to the moment he got picked up, and got mad. “I...I felt angry.” He instinctively put a hand to his chest, feeling an absence of a binder. “They, uh, tore my binder and I got mad.”

Maria nods, finishing what she wrote on her desk. “I see. So, the answers to your questions...will start with a story.” She spoke in a mumble, swirling her hands until a blue mist started to materialize. The mist slowly floated to the desk until it settled like a low fog on the wooden surface. “Tell me, Corey, what do you think Lapu-Lapu felt when Magellan first came to our shores?”

“What?”

Maria nodded towards him. “Entertain me for a moment, child.”

“Well, uh, imagine he felt angry?” And as he said angry, the mist had changed color from a blue to a deep red. “That is correct, child. And it was this anger, this rage that drove him to defeat him on those shores.” As she spoke, she waved her hands around and the mist started to swirl again, this time forming into humanoid figures. Corey watched in stunned silence as he watched these smokey versions of Lapu-Lapu and Magellan fighting on the beach.

“This fury had been passed down from generation to generation, and it was what drove the heroes in our history forward.” She waved her hands once more, and the mist started to turn into other scenes from history: Cry of Balintawak, Battle of Tirad Pass, First Quarter Storm. “It was this anger that urged them to strive for our freedom.” 

She waved her hand once more, and the mist started to disappear. “In each moment of crisis, someone is granted an extraordinary power, a blessing from Bathala himself. We call these the Stars, and those trusted with it the Keepers.”

She nods towards him. “And you are one such person, Corey Prinsipe.”