n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you'll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.

* * *

When I've returned to the game, it took me by surprised that I'd been gone for months. To be honest, I miss a lot of important events in a matter of just the two days that I've spent in the real world. I return exactly at the moment that a battle is going on, and surprisingly, and as some sort of irony, a battle between the Philippine Revolutionary Army and the American forces. Yes, the same American forces who've helped us kick Spain out of the country, and now we face a new set of enemies from them.

Good thing this time that I arrived just before the main battle started, and not like the last time that I've been too close to the enemy lines. And that I've been found by Isidro himself, just waking up as if from some sleep by the shoreline of a river. A few miles away from where the rest of the troops are gathered, preparing for the arrival of the Americans that they're anticipating to attack them.

On our way back to camp, Isidro told me everything that I've missed since that incident between Goyo and General Torres. He told me that the highest learning of the Republic had been established at Barasoain Church just two weeks after I've left; the Malolos Constitution had been ratified; President Aguinaldo protested against some so-called McKinley's Benevolent Assimiliation Proclamation due to the Treaty of Paris that officially ceded the Philippines to the United States by Spain; the proclamation of the Malolos Constitution; the inaguration of the First Philippine Republic; the capture of Malolos and the transfer of the government to Nueva Ecija; and the most important event I probably had missed in all of this, was the spark of the Philippine-American War.

"Kailan pa?" I ask him, biting my lower lip.

"Dalawang buwan na ang nakakaraan. Noong Pebrero." He turns and looks at me straight to the eye. "(Y/N), pitong buwan ka nawala."

"P-Pasensya na," I mumble, guilty. "Hindi ko inaasahan na ganoon kahabang panahon ang lilipas dito, sapagkat saglit lang akong nawala."

"(Y/N)." Isidro sighs heavily. "Sinabi ko naman sa iyo, tumitigil ang oras sa totoong buhay kapag ikaw ay naririto. Pero ang panahon dito sa laro, patuloy na tumutungo sa nakatakdang katapusan nito. 'Wag na 'wag mong kakalimutan ang misyon mo. Naalala mo pa rin ba kung ano iyon?"

I nod timidly. "Oo. Hindi ko nakakalimutan. Pero... sa panahon na nawala ako, magagawa ko pa rin ba na masigurado na mailalayo ko si Goyo sa kasamaan?"

"Nakita mo ang nangyari sa Malolos. Ano sa tingin mo?" He counters the question back to me.

Remembering what happened in the game, and remembering the book that I've found in Gregory's possession... I am starting to doubt if I really could make him the hero that Goyo deserves to be, or maybe, my absence is indeed luring him to the fate that Isidro is wishing I could avoid for him.

# # #

Though I see Goyo, it isn't like I could just march toward him and show myself. And say, "Sorry kung nawala ako ng pitong buwan." That sounds stupid. After all, he is surely aware that I've been gone for that long, and will surely question me why I've returned when there is currently a battle going on.

I've been also trying to avoid the members of the Seven Musketeers. Surprisingly, they've been busy with whatever order they've been tasked to do. After my conversation with Isidro, I found the others ensuring that the trenches are well made, that the soldiers are well equipped, and that everyone is prepared in any moment that the enemies could arrive. Just as Goyo had been busy trooping his men. I almost didn't recognize him when I see him sporting a growing mustache. I guess it had been days or weeks already since they've been here, ensuring that everything will go according as planned.

And so, I decide not to approach any of them. Instead, I stay with the medics, asking if I could help them with any to keep myself busy. It appears that even them are preparing to accomodate the soldiers that will later flood their attention once the crossfire starts.

At about midnight, a sizzle of a bullet wakes me up, stopping me from almost sleeping. I am yet to encounter Goyo and anyone else of his friends that when I move out from where the medics are, I am surprised to hear the clamor going on. Soldiers are running from almost all direction, heading to position with rifles on their arms, ready to fire. Someone had been shouting, making the rounds, "Nandiyan na ang mga Amerikano!"

I come along with a medic, and two others who have a stretcher with them. In an event that a wound couldn't be healed in the frontlines, we'll be able to bring them back to where they could be tended properly. But I've been praying that there will be no casualties. It pains me that even if it is all a game, this had been part of history. And how painful it is to see history be repeated in front of my own eyes?

"Fuego!" I hear Goyo shouting amidst the rally of bullets from our forces and the enemies. "'Wag niyong hahayaan ni isa sa kanila makalagpas."

It took, surely, just a few minutes for someone to call for a medic. And so, we head straight to where he is. The woman with me manage to aid him up, seeing that he'd just been grazed by a bullet by his shoulder. However, the sound of gunfire stilled me in my place, at the vacant position of the soldier. Looking on at the dark horizon ahead, the Americans are drawing closer and closer, returning fire. Out of shear insistence to keep the tides of battle in our favor, I occupy the empty space left by the injured soldier and didn't hesitate to arm myself with his fallen rifle. I scramble at first on how to use it but looking at the soldiers next to me give me a hint of how to use it. And finally, dared myself to fire.

So, I aim and fire. The sound hurts my ears, but the will to survive keeps me here with a rifle on hand. No one questions me. No one taps a hand on my shoulder and tells me to move away. Even the soldiers next to me didn't look at my direction and ask me how I am. If they did, I surely have told them how they could stand seeing blood and the echo of its deafening sound. Perhaps, after all this, I'll be asking myself the same thing as well. But, in the darkness, I don't know if my bullets hit someone or have killed someone. It doesn't matter at moments like this, when war calls on everyone to fight for long-wished freedom.

Later on, I hear Goyo orders the soldier to halt from firing. When I lower the rifle, I am surprise to find the muscles on my arms starting to ache. The weight of the rifle seems to double due to exhaustion. And I look at his direction, listening intently to his order to prepare for the second wave. After all, we might have won the first one, but Americans surely had called for some reinforcements to continue their pursuit.

And as he does that, he had been investigating the ones in the frontlines, and in the darkness, he squints his eyes and inquires, "Aba, nagpakita ka bigla, Pendejo?" He crosses his arms across his chest after stuffing his revolver in its holster, and for a second, we just stare at each other. He then moves closer to me, surrounding a hand around my wrist, pulling me from the trenchline that causes me to let go off the rifle and weakly be dragged by his grip.

"G-Goyo," I chide. "T-Teka lang. Masakit. Bitawan mo ako."

He didn't let go until we are at least a few meters from the frontline and someone else, a soldier with the epaulettes of a colonel takes over his post. He hisses as he turns to me, "Puñeta. Anong ginagawa mo dito? Tapos, may hawak pang baril at nasa unahan pa ng digmaan. Anong kalokohan ito, Pendejo?!"

"Puñeta mo rin! Masama na ba ang tumulong sa digmaan ngayon?" I scoff at him. "'Wag mo rin ako sabihan na wala akong alam. Alam ko lahat ng nangyayari. Alam ko, sinabi sa akin ni Isidro. At, tama. Kababalik ko lang. At bumalik ako para tumulong."

"Tangina, sa gitna pa talaga ng digmaan? Pitong buwan," he counters, spitting the words as if they taste bitter. "Pitong buwan ka nawala, Pendejo! Nabaliw na kami sa kakahanap sa iyo."

"Oo. Aminado akong bigla-bigla akong umalis pero kasalanan mo, hayop ka." I shove him a little away, one that catches him off guard that he takes a few steps back. "Sinasabi mong iba ka sa kanila pero kagaya ka lang nila. Sakim sa kapangyarihan. Sa atensyon. Gusto mo ikaw yung bida. Hindi ba pwedeng gumawa na lamang ng tama? Alam mong mas lalong dadami ang mga kaaway mo sa ginagawa mo, di ba?"

"Ano bang sinasabi mo?" He sighs heavily. "Anong away-away ang pinagsasabi mo? Iisa lang ang kaaway ngayon kung hindi ang mga Amerikano. Walang panahon ang mga Pilipino para mag-away-away ngayong may mas malaki tayong mga kalaban."

"Hindi mo ba alam na—" I stop at once, remembering that I do not have the right to tell him as early as now what I know. After all, I don't know much. Especially the details. I don't even know if I'll believe it or not, because I don't want to trust that. I don't want to think that... that he'll... Hindi ko matanggap na mamamatay siya.

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Ano?"

I shake my head.

Goyo scoffs this time and turns away from me. "Bahala ka nga diyan. Walang kwenta."

I gulp in hard and look back at his fleeting figure. And that's when I notice something and my adrenaline jumps in, causing me to rush towards him. "Goyo!"

He stops for a second as he turns to look at me, annoyed. The same moment that I crashed against him and a bullet sizzles in the air, alerting everyone that the Americans are back in battling our forces.

I fall above him as he lands back to the ground. In mere seconds, his closest soldiers gather around us to check on him primarily. I lift my head to look at him, seeing him frowning at me, completely unharmed. I sigh heavily and thank God that he is still alive. I've been paranoid that this is the moment that had been written; my mind starting to be lightheaded with exhaustion and worry and numbness in my entire body for who knows how long the fighting from earlier had been.

Goyo stares at me, about to scold me when I see him open his mouth and something prickles my arm when he places his hands over them to pull me away. And his face suddenly turns white as sheet as he starts saying something. Shouting even as he looks around in frenzy and his face starts to be distorted and blurry. And he was replaced by nothing but the abyss.

* * *

A/N: Follow me on twitter @23meraki for more updates. ;)

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