May 09, 2022.
The day had finally co.
Election Day.
Matthew Borja sat in his private lounge at Sentinel Systems HQ, the massive screen in front of him tuned into a live broadcast of the presidential election results. He leaned forward, his fingers laced together, his expression unreadable as the votes ca in.
The room was dimly lit, save for the glow of the television and the soft blue light from his holographic interface. A glass of whiskey sat untouched on the table beside him. He had a feeling he'd need it soon.
Angel sat across from him, her tablet in hand, monitoring real-ti data from various polling precincts.
"The first wave of votes is coming in," she said, scrolling through the numbers. "Regina's leading by a comfortable margin."
Matthew exhaled, nodding. Good.
The early returns showed Regina Velasco with a solid lead.
Velasco – 5,120,000 votes
Vargas – 3,850,000 votes
"She's ahead," Angel confird, glancing at him. "It's still early, but this is promising."
Matthew gave a small nod but didn't allow himself to relax. He knew better.
Velasco had dominated in the pre-election surveys. Her campaign rallies were packed, her ssage resonated with millions, and her debates had exposed Vargas' lack of real policy proposals.
By all logical trics, she should win.
But logic had never been the strong suit of Philippine elections.
Hours passed. More votes poured in. Regina's lead grew.
Velasco – 8,700,000 votes
Vargas – 6,500,000 votes
"She's pulling ahead," Angel said. "If this trend continues, we might see an early declaration of victory."
Matthew almost allowed himself to believe it.
Then, sothing changed.
Suddenly, Vargas' numbers surged.
From 6.5 million, he jumped to 9.4 million in under an hour.
Matthew frowned. "That... doesn't make sense."
Angel rapidly scrolled through her data feeds. "That's a huge spike. Where the hell are these votes coming from?"
The screen refreshed. More votes for Vargas.
Velasco – 10,200,000 votes
Vargas – 11,700,000 votes
He overtook her.
Matthew's jaw tightened. "What the f*** is happening?"
Angel's face mirrored his frustration. "This shouldn't be possible. The vote trend was stable. Now, suddenly, he's overtaking her?"
She zood in on the polling data.
Key provinces—historically Velasco-leaning—were suddenly reporting overwhelming numbers for Vargas.
"Look at this," Angel muttered, pulling up a breakdown. "The voting patterns don't match the pre-election data at all. It's like soone flipped a switch."
Matthew gritted his teeth. This wasn't natural.
Votes were pouring in for Vargas at an unnatural rate.
At one point, nearly 600,000 votes were added to Vargas' count within minutes, while Regina's numbers barely moved.
Matthew clenched his fists. His mind raced.
Was this fraud?
Were the results being manipulated?
How could millions of Filipinos suddenly change their minds overnight?
"Check the voting machine reports," he ordered. "Any anomalies?"
Angel worked quickly, her fingers flying over the holographic keyboard. "I'm running diagnostics… Nothing yet, but sothing is off. The way these votes are being counted—there's a pattern here."
Matthew exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.
He stared at the screen, watching helplessly as the numbers continued to climb for Vargas.
Velasco – 11,300,000 votes
Vargas – 14,500,000 votes
Three million votes ahead.
"This is bulls***," Matthew muttered, his voice laced with anger.
Angel tapped furiously on her screen, trying to make sense of the data.
"It's like soone dumped entire provinces worth of votes into the system all at once. No gradual increase, no normal voting curve—just instant spikes for Vargas."
Matthew felt sick.
"These people…" he whispered. His hands curled into fists. "They're voting for a corrupt, incompetent legacy politician—again."
Angel swallowed hard. "It's happening again, Matthew."
They both knew what she ant.
This wasn't the first ti the country had done this.
Vargas represented everything Filipinos claid they wanted to move away from—yet, here they were, handing him the presidency on a silver platter.
Matthew felt sothing inside him snap.
"Filipinos are f***ing idiots," he spat. "They deserve what's coming."
Angel didn't respond. She just watched him, the anger and disbelief plain on her face.
On screen, the news anchors were already preparing for the inevitable announcent.
"With nearly 90% of precincts reporting, it is becoming increasingly clear that Senator Emilio Vargas will be the next President of the Philippines."
Matthew's blood boiled.
How could they be so blind?
How could they vote for another trapo? Another corrupt dynasty?
"This country is dood," he muttered.
The final numbers flashed on the screen.
Emilio Vargas – 16,800,000 votes (Winner)
Regina Velasco – 14,700,000 votes
Silence filled the room.
It was over.
Angel exhaled slowly. "She lost."
Matthew stood, pacing the room, his mind a whirlwind of rage and disbelief.
"Four months of non-stop sars against . Four months of feeding the people bull**** conspiracy theories. And they fell for it. Again."
Angel shook her head. "The machine worked, Matthew. The political machine. It was always going to be an uphill battle."
Matthew let out a bitter laugh.
"Filipinos will never learn," he said coldly. "They scream about corruption, then elect the most corrupt people possible. They complain about incompetence, then vote for soone who has never done a single thing for them."
He turned to Angel, his expression unreadable.
"They chose this."
She hesitated before nodding. "They did."
The television screen switched to live footage of Vargas' victory speech.
The newly elected president stood before a massive crowd, flashing his trademark smile, his arms raised in victory.
"To the Filipino people—I will not fail you!" Vargas declared, his voice thick with false sincerity. "We will restore our nation's greatness! We will bring back the pride of our country!"
The crowd erupted in cheers.
Matthew turned off the TV. He had seen enough.
He picked up his whiskey glass, finally taking a sip.
"You know what the worst part is?" he asked, his voice eerily calm.
Angel t his gaze. "What?"
Matthew smirked, though there was no humor in it.
"This country doesn't deserve soone like Regina Velasco."
Angel didn't disagree.
She just nodded and let the weight of his words settle into the silence.
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