Tanglawan, a new land that emerged from the ruins of what was once the Philippines, continues to flourish, as facilitated by the Exorbit, a government-owned microchip introduced to a person's body. Everyone feels safe and well taken care of, with th...
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I tried to bask in the warmth that emanated from Diwata's glow, but it might have been too intense that it transformed into a numbing sensation that felt hollow and cold. All of my body shivered from the rays of the almost blinding light, devoid of warmth and gentleness.
That is, all of my body, except one—my left hand felt surprisingly snug, held tightly and kept alive by a hand whose owner I have yet to know. I reciprocated the person's tight grip, and I felt their thumb moving against my knuckles, stroking them, melting all my worries away.
Diwata's glow started to dim, but the voices around me started to get louder, from hushed tones to synchronous, repeated chanting of the Tanglawan anthem. They say it was Diwata herself who has written it. No wonder it was cringe.
Tanglawan ay pinili
Diwata'y nagkandili
Pasakit ay nawaglit
Ngiti'y handog ng Langit
Of course, dumb me chose this as the time to look around to see whose hand it is that was holding my hand, but it was too late. The darkness that was once again creeping around us only allowed me to see outlines of his face, but I recognize him all too well. I stifled a laugh at the irony of it, as I would never have thought that the person I considered a pest just a few moments ago will now be my solace in this ghastly place.
Kalibutan once again turned pitch black, and I found myself gripping his hand more tightly for reassurance, which he indeed gave through the strokes of his thumb. The voices kept chanting the anthem, and I knew I had to join in to not draw attention to the Tanggulaw that might be watching, waiting intently for any mistake we might commit.
Eventually, the Halls of Kalibutan lit up once again, and we returned to an empty hall where the participants were all cramped together. However, instead of an empty aisle with red carpet, I saw a table that stretched from the front row until the back, filled with foodstuff I only got to know from the books I read in Hulmandayan and the teachings of our Hulo. The smell of food filled the air, and I felt my stomach grumble at the thought of possibly eating or drinking anything other than Taiyou.
I tried reaching my hand towards the food, half-expecting them to only be tricks of the light as were Diwata and all that transpired earlier, but I found myself feeling the warmth and the hard, powdery feeling of one of the circular brown food stacked in a ceramic container they refer to as plates in the older times. The circular food has cracks and smaller, darker brown, irregularly shaped pieces peppering it, and I had to guess that this was what they referred to as cookies back then.
"My dear young Tanglawos," started AIRA, whose voice once again filled the hall, making me flinch and pull my hand away instinctively from the table. I looked around, wary if anyone saw, and felt relieved that they were as engrossed to looking into the table as was I just earlier. Well, anyone, except the guy who was holding my hand, whose face was so contorted from trying hard not to laugh.
