Chapter 25: Shadows of Defiance
The sun's heat in Plaridel seared not only the skin but also the hearts of the Spaniards, who seethed with rage. In the town square, a crowd gathered as Spanish soldiers assembled, their rifles raised, their voices dripping with venom as they displayed posters bearing Hustisya's image.
"This ghost of Bulacan, this so-called Hustisya, must be captured!" bellowed an officer, his face flushed with fury.
"She's the reason we've lost control of our own town!" The wealthy Spaniards, seated in their carriages, nodded in agreement, many complicit in their own misdeeds—exploiting the land, imposing exorbitant taxes, and enslaving Filipinos.
Amid their furious shouts, Hustisya emerged atop a statue in the plaza, her pink hair swaying in the breeze, her red cape flowing like flames, and her mask gleaming under the sunlight.
"You are the true ghosts that must vanish—demons tormenting my people!" she roared, her voice thundering across the square. The soldiers moved to fire, but before they could pull their triggers, Hustisya unleashed her power—the air swirled, and their rifles floated, hurled to distant corners of the street.
The battle erupted as the soldiers charged, swords drawn. She descended from the statue, stepping boldly into the plaza's center.
"Capture that Indio woman!" one shouted. Undaunted, Hustisya vanished from sight, reappearing behind a soldier and felling him with a powerful kick.
"You cannot defeat me!" she cried, her hands crackling with telekinetic energy. The soldiers scattered, but one group deployed a net to ensnare her. In an instant, she disappeared again, leaving their efforts futile.
On the sidelines, the wealthy Spaniards ordered their henchmen into the fray.
"Seize that ghost! I'll reward whoever captures her!" barked an elderly Spaniard, his voice thick with hatred. His men, armed with swords and chains, rushed to overwhelm Hustisya. Yet, with each strike, she turned ethereal, her spirit-like form rendering their weapons useless. The swords floated mid-air, and the chains bound the attackers themselves.
"You are the real criminals!" she shouted, her rage surging as she hurled a henchman back with a telekinetic blast, crashing him into the rich Spaniards.
The skirmish stretched on for minutes, the enemy numbers swelling. A group of soldiers successfully cast a large net around Hustisya, yanking the ropes to trap her.
"We've got her!" the leader crowed, but before he could revel, she vanished, the ropes dissipating in the wind.
"What? She escaped again?" he stammered. Reappearing atop the statue, her eyes burned with resolve.
"Surely you realize you cannot fight me!" she declared, sweeping her hand to push the soldiers back, kicking up a cloud of dust.
The battle didn't end there. The wealthy Spaniards summoned a stronger force—elite soldiers emerging from a truck, armed with advanced rifles. "Kill that Indian!" the leader commanded, unleashing a relentless barrage.
Cloaked in energy, Hustisya darted away, dodging the bullets, but some struck Filipino homes, sparking terror among the residents.
"I won't let my people be harmed!" she vowed, releasing a powerful energy wave that scattered debris and charged at the men. The Spaniards retaliated with a cannon-like device, firing a steel net into the air to ensnare her.
Her eyes glowed as she harnessed her telekinesis, wresting control of the net and redirecting it to entangle the wealthy Spaniards
. "You are the ones who should be captured, not me!" she shouted, leaping back atop the statue with a defiant stare before vanishing, leaving the humiliated Spaniards fuming before the crowd.
Meanwhile, Erik stood hidden on a rooftop, his fists clenched as he watched the smoke rise from the plaza battle. "Why can't you see the wrong in your actions?" he murmured, his heart heavy with frustration.
Since their confrontation, his worry persisted—his determination to change Hustisya's mind remained unshaken, yet his disappointment grew with each day he couldn't reach her. "I need to find a way," he told himself, his eyes alight with hope yet shadowed by sorrow.
As he wandered the streets, he stumbled upon chaos in a market district. Filipinos gathered, their faces etched with fear as Spaniards abused them—elders dragged from their stalls, youths shouted at to pay taxes, and women herded into soldier-guarded cages.
"What are they doing to my people?" Erik whispered, his heart burning with anger. Amid the turmoil, he noticed a young woman selling flowers—Georgia—struggling under the weight of her heavy basket.
"Miss, do you need help?" Erik asked politely, approaching her. "Thank you," Georgia replied, her smile brimming with gratitude as she shared the basket's burden. Unaware of their true identities as chosen ones, they were mere strangers vending along the roadside, their paths crossing by chance.
"Are you here alone?" Georgia inquired, her tone laced with curiosity. "Yes," Erik answered, his smile faint but sincere.
"I came from Ifugao to sell goods. I'm staying at a church, and this is how I earn my food." Georgia gazed at him, her heart stirred by his story.
"Your life must be hard," she said, her voice soft with empathy.
Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of police. "Pay your stall taxes!" barked an officer, hand outstretched. "It's only been two days since our last payment!" protested an elderly vendor, her voice sharp with indignation.
"The Governor ordered us to raise the fees for the Indio!" the officer retorted, his face smug with arrogance. "What? You can't demand more taxes—that's unjust!" the elder objected, but their defiance met a brutal slap.
The vendor crumpled to his knees, blood streaking his face as the police threatened imprisonment for noncompliance. "Please, have mercy on us!" they pleaded.
Nearby, Georgia's anger flared uncontrollably. "Stop hurting the elders!" she shouted, stepping forward to intervene. The Spaniards' attention turned to her. "Hey, girl, how dare you yell at the police?" one sneered.
"You've gone too far—don't you have hearts? You're hurting the elderly!" she accused. "We don't care about them—they defy the government, so they deserve pain!" the officer snapped.
"You demons!" she raged.
Enraged, a policeman struck her. "What did you say?" he growled, slapping her to the ground.
"Double your payment for meddling!" he yelled, raising his hand again, but Georgia's resolve hardened.
"I won't pay a cent to leeches like you!" she declared, her eyes blazing. "I work to live, not to feed you!" Infuriated, the officer slapped her harder, sending her sprawling again.
"Discipline this child!" the leader ordered, dragging her toward a police car.
"Where are you taking me?" Georgia asked, her voice trembling with fear.
"You need discipline, like the law-breaking Indians," the officer sneered, his grin malicious as he forced her toward the vehicle.
"If you can't pay, you can settle with your body," he added, shoving her inside. Terror gripped her as he gripped her shoulder, unleashing memories of her mother's abduction and death at the hands of police.
"No!" she screamed, struggling futilely as he overpowered her. "Let me go! Help!" she begged.
"Please, someone help me!" Despite the midday sun, no one dared intervene—the Filipinos seemed deaf and mute, paralyzed by fear of reprisal.
But Erik couldn't stand idly by. Gathering his courage, he rammed the officer, knocking him down.
"Don't hurt her!" he shouted, swiftly pulling Georgia from the car and urging her to run. "Hurry, they're catching up!"
"You Indio will pay if I catch you!" a voice bellowed behind them. They darted into an alley, pursued by police, racing until they reached a squatter area, their hearts pounding with terror, unsure where to flee next.
In their escape, they found refuge in an old wardrobe inside an abandoned house. They waited in silence, cramped together, their bodies nearly touching. Erik and Georgia's faces flushed as their faces nearly met, but they had no choice but to stay put. After several tense minutes, confirming no police followed, they emerged and hastened away.
Minutes later, Georgia led Erik to her home, offering him shelter.
"I'm sorry for dragging you into the wardrobe," Erik said, his face red with embarrassment.
"Let's forget it," Georgia replied, her cheeks also tinged with a shy blush.
"Thank you, Erik. If not for you, something terrible might have happened to me," she said with a grateful smile.
"I admire your bravery," Georgia added, her eyes shining with respect. Erik blushed at the praise but smiled.
"It's nothing—helping is natural when someone's in need, especially a woman like you asking for help." But Georgia's expression darkened.
"I wish that were true. I wish everyone who asks for help gets it."
Puzzled, Erik asked, "Why do you say that?" "Earlier, no one helped me despite my cries for help," she explained.
"No one had the courage you did. They all turned a blind eye out of fear."
"Why are people here like that?" Erik wondered aloud. "Aren't you afraid of the Spaniards?" Georgia countered.
"You could be punished or jailed for hurting that officer." Erik recoiled, realizing his actions. "They'll jail me? Wait, I didn't mean to hurt him—I just wanted to help," he stammered. Georgia laughed at his reaction.
"So you did it without knowing the risk? Oh, that's funny!"
Erik's face fell in mortified fear. "Oh no, I can't be jailed!"
"Haha, you're hilarious! Be careful, Erik—your naivety might get you in trouble," she teased.
Despite his fear, Erik insisted, "I did what I thought was right. It's wrong to stay silent while someone's harmed."
Georgia teased, "Do you think you're a hero?" She prodded, "Or are you just showing off to look cool in front of a girl?"
"That's not true!" Erik protested.
Grinning, Georgia admitted, "But you succeeded in impressing me. You were really cool helping me!"
Erik flushed deeply and sat, childlike in his embarrassment. "Me? Cool?"
Georgia laughed harder. "You're so fun when you're shy!" she teased. "Is this your first time being praised by a girl?"
"Yes, the first time, and I'm not used to it—especially from a beautiful girl like you," Erik replied quickly.
Georgia blushed and fell silent at being called beautiful. "Beautiful? Me?" The air grew quiet, both embarrassed.
Erik asked, "Is this your first time being called beautiful?"
"No," Georgia denied, "I'm used to it. It's true—I am beautiful!" she boasted.
Erik stayed silent at her bragging, and she grew more embarrassed, sitting to hide her flushed face. He wondered why he felt so childish in his shyness.
Their teasing escalated into a playful argument over who acted more childlike, drawing onlookers' stares and amplifying their awkwardness.
After a moment, Georgia turned and invited Erik to her home. "Come to my house," she said. As a gesture of gratitude, she offered him temporary lodging, feeling it was the least she could do after his brave help.
"Thank you, Georgia. This means a lot, especially since I have nowhere else to stay," Erik said, his smile full of gratitude.
"But you'll sleep in the living room, and don't you dare try entering our bedroom!" she warned.
"I don't get it, but no problem," Erik replied with a grin.
end.