ENVISAGERY TWO THOUSAND AND TWENTY: year of the perfect vision. The elemental circus has returned. Within the iris of the national super-region, storm Trionium is descending with the intensity of bird feathers free-falling in a full vacuum: serious and dead-straight. Critical mass requires critical measure, after all. Whatsoever for, excitement of any level in any environment is ever so delicate; a balance of fear and faith within ourselves keeps this excitement stable, yet still dangerous. Be aware and beware. Traveling across the town of Gunban in an island off the tip of Manila del Norte, Yno and his socialized troop of carnivaliers made their way through a man-made valley and arrived at a massive pithole for gravel excavation of a long-abandoned construction company. Except as a shooting practice venue, Yno firstly measured nothing else in the place. The three o’clock rains-impending humidity made sure of that. “Okay, people, listen up,” as he alit from his custom-built owner-type jeep. “From po-o-ole to pole! From po-o-ole to pole! Start building! Early dinner at six! And guys… Gunban proper is a nice five kilometers away. Keep your trips short and simple. Short and simple, okay, guys? If you need me, I’ll be in my office. Thanks, guys!” A broken voice was raised and heard from behind the shifting canvas of squinting half-smiles, warm whooeys and gruntled okays: “And where is that, bossing?” Anywhere but here! BACK IN MAINLAND MANILA, the afternoon traffic surge is fast approaching its uncontrollable pitch. Sensing great probability of a misappointment, the driver of the blue Volkswagen humpback immediately parked on the parking area of the corner SevenEleven at the Arroceros LRT station but kept its engine running. Inside, the blaupunkt blared out its flash report: “… Today is December 1, 2020 and this is our hourly breaking news… PAG-ASA reported that – as of 2:00 p.m. – the low-pressure area spotted at the eastern side of the archipelago has just entered Philippine Area of Responsibility in the general direction of Mega-Luzon and has intensified into a tropical storm nicknamed “Trionium.” It is expected to make landfall by midnight tonight.” “For today’s weather forecast: Northeastern Luzon will experience mostly cloudy skies with rainshowers. Visayas and Mindanao will be cloudy with scattered rainshowers and thunderstorms becoming widespread rains over the eastern sections which may trigger flashfloods and landslides. Manila Bay will be moderate to occasionally rough. Temperature ranges from 23◦C to 31◦C. Sunrise was at 6:23 a.m. and sunset will be at 5:41 p.m.” “In a related development, because of Trionium’s coming, the First World Virtual Fireworks Olympics has been moved from today, December 1, 2, and 3 to December 31, January 1, 2, and 3 of next year. This will be held at the Lunette quadrangle, central baywalk area. For more information, call 818-4074 and ask for Engineer R. Martinez, CEO, Ubiquity Promotions Agency. No less than Her Excellency, the President of the Philippines, will be the event’s guest of honor.” Still inside, female field reported Jean Mari Torres of the “Philippine Drummer” started to think of her next set of actions. She knew she had something, but she had to hurry. Then the clouds over the urban horizon began to swell. Quickly, Jean turned the engine off, went out of her car and locked it. Halfwalking, half-running towards the station, questions were raised within the circus of her mind as light droplets of rain pricked the sunburnt side of her forearms: “Will Martinez still be at Greenwich, Pedro Gil? Will his information still be reliable? God, I hope he’s not taking me on a guided tour of imagined terror! But, if what he says is true, this will be the biggest scoop of the year! What is EDSA 3.2?” Slovening time passed. Well after the five-minute ride, Jean re-appeared and clambered down the winding stairway of the Pedro Gil LRT station. As she reached the final steps leading to the damp avenue sidewalk, two middle-aged men wearing baseball caps and dark jackets blocked her path. Immediately she stopped dead on her tracks and looked at them calmly. “Ms. Jean Mari Torres?” The dab of flesh at the tip of the woman’s nose began to redden. “Yes?” “Ma’am, please come with us. You are under arrest.” FAST-FORWARD THIRTY DAYS LATER, an hour’s quarter before New Year, at the elevated control booth of the Lunette quadrangle, central baywalk area. Yno watched his friend, Engineer Roldan Martinez, adjust his glasses before eventually speaking to him. “This is it, Yno! I get to produce and direct the world’s greatest Virtual Fireworks Olympics, and, Her Excellency, the President of the Philippines, is gracing our show – our show – with her valued presence!” Expectedly, the hotline phone near the booth’s viewing window started ringing. Engineer Martinez instantly got up from his working chair and walked across the room to answer it. “Yes, Baldo. Yes, commence countdown. Good luck.” As he put the receiver down, Yno joined him in front of the window to watch everything. “I am deepy grateful to you, pareng Yno. Your troop and your great experience in computerized pyrotechnic holograms will be a major part of my success here and now. You helped make my dream come true! there may be a viable business venture for us in the near future…” “Maybe, indeed! Your kind of show business is good business. Sure beats managing a traveling circus. By the way…” Yno’s growing curiosity overcame his own hesitation. “Do you remember the lady reporter we were supposed to meet up with last three, four weeks ago? Do you…? “I, uh, I couldn’t say…? “Sure you do! Remember her story? Talk about weird theories, heh? Whatever happened to her?” Engineer Martinez crossed his arms and sighed deeply. “Do you believe her, Yno?” “Me? Nah! Why should I? How about you? You believe her?” The professional electrical engineer sighed again. He started, “Fifteen years ago, our President was so embattled with impeachment proceedings against her by the then Senate that she sent him abroad to protect him, insulate him, from such a nasty situation. The year after that, when her husband finally was able to return, the man filed a slew of cases against malicious media people, and she stood by her man.” “Again, the next year after that, when her husband suffered a near-fatal dissecting aortic aneurysm and miraculously survived, she stood by her man.” “That same year, the Constitution of our country had been successfully changed, ratified by our own people, and upheld by our very own Supreme Court, total vindication! That is her legacy!” “I ask you this, comrade, why would the First Gentleman after all these years – plan to do away with her? And why now?” “Why not?” Yno chided. The din of excitement outside of the control booth started to rise. The countdown is nearing its final end: six, five, four, three, two… Bang! After a perceived moment of strange silence, Yno could’ve sworn he heard the frenetic cries of old women screaming for less blood rather than for anything else, and more body of sense to a crime suddenly, abruptly committed to run amuck here and now. For, within the church of his heart and at the newest of year, the critical mass shall be heard again. At the newest of year, the critical mass shall be celebrated again. ***