“The old fire feeds the new. But sometimes the flame forgets its roots.”

  Inside Zone Zero, light is a choice.

  The skies glow red not from danger—but from murals of revolution flickering like fire.

  Streets change names weekly.

  Their architecture is chaotic, beautiful, unnerving.

  Their flag?

  A blank banner that changes color every day.

  Their motto?

  Permanence is the first betrayal.

  The core leaders—codenamed , , and —host forums that aren’t about answers but acts.

  “Rizal wrote too much,” says “while Bonifacio swung too little. We swing with force now.”

  They believe the council’s diplomacy is betrayal, that decentralization is too slow, too gentle.

  They seek direct, swift justice in wealth seizure, radical re-education and in no hierarchy, not even among themselves.

  But cracks are forming.

  Within Zone Zero, dissent is starting to rise—even among the radicals.

  “If we punish all structure,” whispers Lunas in private, “do we become chaos itself?”

  Across oceans, in the newly reborn Kwame Republic, a group of Afro-descendant youth leaders has been studying Neo-Filipinas for years.

  Disillusioned with corporate-backed democracy and civil wars, they send a delegation to meet Rizal and Bonifacio.

  They return home carrying ancestral wisdom encrypted in solar scrolls:

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  Barangay-style governance adapted to tribal structures.

  Education based on oral histories, tech literacy, and empathy.

  Resource distribution based on local trust networks.

  Six months later.

  Corruption plummets, Literacy triples and Violence drops by 60%.

  And the world begins to notice.

  News headlines read:

  “The Filipino Model Is Spreading”

  “A New Political Virus?”

  “Who Really Owns the Revolution?”

  The same powers that once tried to infiltrate Neo-Filipinas begin to panic.

  In the backstreets of Los Angeles, the kitchens of Dubai, the underground trains of Osaka, and the clinics of Toronto—Filipinos abroad watch the news in disbelief.

  “We left because we had to,” says Ana, a nurse in Milan. “But maybe… now, we return because we want to.”

  Some fly back immediately.

  Others send resources, ideas, and coded messages.

  Some—especially the youth—start local chapters of (Waves of Spirit)—Filipino-led councils around the world.

  They don’t just see themselves as helpers.

  They see themselves as home, scattered but whole.

  As reports of Kwame Republic’s success grow and Zone Zero’s extremism deepens, a rare disagreement arises between the two heroes.

  Rizal, in council chambers, “We must guide the fire without smothering it. The youth are burning because they need meaning.”

  Bonifacio, pacing the training grounds, “Meaning without honor becomes a weapon. If we wait too long, they’ll burn everything.”

  Oryang, caught in the middle, speaks softly, “You both taught them to rise. Now you must learn to listen.”

  They pause.

  This was not about ego.

  It was about stewardship.

  One night, during a ritual debate in Zone Zero, a voice speaks out, “What if the purity you seek… was planted by your enemies?”

  A data leak drops on the rebelnet.

  Sinag’s closest aide, Basag, was once a foreign cyber-operative—turned true believer, perhaps. Or perhaps still playing a long game.

  It sends the zone into chaos.

  "Are they truly autonomous?"

  "Or puppets burning their own house?"

  A new faction rises from the ruins of Zone Zero—youth who believe in the fire and the roots. They don’t want councils or chaos.

  They want connection.

  They call themselves The Glimmer).

  Their manifesto reads:

  “We are neither Rizal nor Bonifacio.We are the synthesis of soul and sword.We listen and strike.We build, then burn what no longer serves.We are not the future.We are NOW.”

  Rizal, upon hearing this, nods.

  Bonifacio finally smiles.

  They noticed their glowing map. Points of light blink in:

  Johannesburg, Caracas, Papua and Athens.

  All implementing fragments of the Neo-Filipinas model.

  And yet—one shadow pulses darker than the rest.

  A conglomerate of threatened nations forms a quiet alliance.

  They call it Project Harmony.

  But its real purpose is containment.

  Rizal and Bonifacio watch the map in silence.

  “We started a fire,” Bonifacio whispers.

  “Now we must protect the forest,” Rizal replies.