[Capítulo Veinteuno: Katapusan (End)]

A coarse sack enveloped us, shrouding our vision as we marched into the obscure abyss. Amid the eerie journey, the air echoed with unfamiliar laments from unknown women and subdued murmurs.

The sack lifted, unveiling a clandestine gathering. Marianne's hushed voice emerged, painting hope in the shadows. Her smile, a beacon amidst the darkness, revealed a resolve hardened by the impending revolution. "Tomorrow, the first-ever revolution of the Filipino people will occur. We will be avenged."

Aligned in a somber procession, suspected Katipunan members like myself awaited our fate. Tied hands found solace in the grip of vigilant soldiers. Ahead, the chair of death awaited each man in turn, promising a swift demise.

A voice echoed, "Mabuhay ang Katipunan (Long live the Katipunan)!" His final words preceded the garrote's embrace, yet an undeniable joy lingered, a testament to a life willingly sacrificed for the homeland.

As the queue inched forward, I pondered my place in this struggle. The homeland was his sanctuary; he, in turn, bestowed upon it the ultimate sacrifice. I questioned where my allegiance lay, where my ‘home’ awaited.

The line progressed, each man before me succumbing to an agonizing demise. "Marianne," I whispered before our inevitable turn.

Her tear-drenched eyes met mine, eyebrows arched in contemplation. Words couldn't escape in Spanish, guarded by watchful soldiers. Yet, in the tongue of careful whispers, English became the conduit, navigating the delicate balance of expressing without betraying the clandestine cause.

“Marianne, look! I know you are mad at me. You have every right to do so,” I calmly acknowledged, searching for a connection amidst the tension.

“Cállate, Indio (Shut up, Indio)!” The soldier's grip on my hand tightened, attempting to whisk me away from Marianne, his stern command cutting through the air. "Estúpido (Stupid)!"

She maintained an unbroken silence, but within that quietude, I forged a plan. As we marched towards an inevitable demise, my mind orchestrated the symphony of the right course of action.

The heroism emanating from Filipinos yearning for freedom thawed my dormant, frigid heart. "No more running," I declared, a defiant grin carving its way onto my lips.

A surge of bravery coursed through my soul. "Marianne, when I signal 'Go!'," I instructed, the urgency painting my words, "blend into the crowd, run as if freedom itself awaits you, and don't look back!"

My plan, though uncertain, offered a sliver of hope amid impending peril. I confronted the reality of potential death, yet the solace of knowing I wouldn't succumb without a struggle for freedom comforted my uneasy heart.

Assessing the dwindling numbers of men in our imminent line of execution—merely two remained—I seized the opportune moment to set my plan into motion. Time became a precious commodity, and I couldn't afford further delay.

In the ominous procession, only one soldier shadowed us, others stationed on the frontline, vigilant against any escape attempts.

“Get ready!” I uttered, the tension in the air crackling as the soldier, once more, positioned himself beside me.

“Sinabi nang manahimik ka (I said shut up)!” he commanded. "Hijo de p*t* 「Swear word」!"

Swift and resolute, I retaliated without a moment's pause, delivering a forceful kick to his stomach.

As he crumpled to the ground, I seized his gun from its holster. The gunshot echoed, jolting everyone present, temporarily freezing the execution proceedings for one of the men in the queue.

“Mabuhay ang Katipunan (I roared with a heart swelled with pride, echoing the fallen man's words from moments ago. "Marianne, go!"

Answering my rallying cry, the remaining men and a handful of women erupted into a calculated uproar, scattering spectators like startled rats—a strategic chaos to bewilder the soldiers.

Amidst the orchestrated pandemonium, my eyes met the radiant smile of the man seated on the garrote’s lap. His gaze conveyed an unexplainable joy, forging a silent connection between us. “Mabuhay ang Katipunan (Long live the Katipunan)!” he bellowed, a tear glistening in his eye, a poignant testament to the fervor and sacrifice embodied in his cry.

The garrote's unforgiving metal embraced his neck, rendering him unable to break free, unlike the others who had managed to escape. In response, I offered a smile filled with genuine emotion, then pressed forward, navigating through the chaos I had ignited.

“¡Es culpa de ese general (It’s that general’s fault)!” I overheard the muttered blame from the general, his words a begrudging acknowledgment of responsibility in the tumultuous situation.

Freeing myself from the constricting ropes that bound my hands, I also liberated Marianne. Anxious, she clutched my hand tightly, impeding my efforts to undo the knots. "Give me a moment. I'm working on setting you free," I spoke, concealing my annoyance. After successfully untangling her hands, I locked eyes with her once more. "I'm sorry! Now go and hide," I urged.

Amidst the chaos, she sought reassurance, "Is there a way to go back home? Should we die to escape from this nightmare or something?" Her attempt to regain composure echoed in her voice.

A bullet whizzed perilously close to my right shoulder, a threat narrowly evaded as Marianne instinctively pulled me closer. "Thank you!" I beamed, gratitude evident in my expression.

“Ano (What)?” she retorted with an irked tone, her annoyance palpable in the inflection of her question. “Tara (Come), let’s go! Ikaw papatayin ko kapag ‘di ka pa sumunod sa akin (You’ll be the one I’ll kill if you don’t come with me.”

As she reached for my hand, my attention snapped towards approaching soldiers, their focused gazes zeroing in on me—the accused General of the Katipunan. The imminent danger directed at me intensified my resolve to shield Marianne from harm, prompting my hesitation in letting her be in jeopardy.

“Bakit mas malaki ang biceps mo ngayon (Why are your biceps bigger this time)?” Marianne's distant admonitions reached my ears as I navigated through the skirmish with the soldiers. Gratefully, the comrades I had rescued lent their aid, assisting me in contending with the opposing forces.

“Bakit mas malaki ka sa akin (Why are you higher than me)? Hindi ba, same height tayo (Aren’t we the same in height)?” A growing suspicion gnawed at me regarding Marianne's companion. My gaze landed on her, witnessing her holding the general's hand, evidently mistaking him for me.

In that crucial moment, he raised his gun, aiming it directly at Marianne. Desperation fueled my sprint towards them, knowing time was slipping away.

"MARIANNE!" I called out her name, a helpless plea echoing through the chaos. As he prepared to pull the trigger, her attention shifted towards him. The gunshot resounded, and a figure crumpled to the ground.

My heart skipped a beat. When my eyes reopened, Marianne found solace in the arms of a wounded man—the very person who had once imprisoned us.

“O, hindi (Oh, no)!” Marianne gasped, her hands now stained with the blood of the man who had inadvertently become her savior.

The general, frozen in place, seemingly unwilling to spill more blood, relinquished his grip on the gun, his knees colliding with the ground in a surrender to the weight of the moment.

“Bumalik na kayo sa kasalukuyan (Go back to the present),” he uttered, the words escaping his lips as he caught his breath, signaling a respite from the tumultuous past.

“Anong ibig sabihin nito, Manong (What’s the meaning of this, Sir)?” she inquired, tears tracing down her cheeks, her voice a blend of confusion and emotional turmoil.

“Naging sakim ako, Miss Marianne, nang dahil sa hinangad ko na makasama ka (I became selfish, Miss Marianne, because I wanted to be with you),” he added in a sincere voice. Tears fell down his eyes as well. “Hindi mo lang ako taga-hanga, kasi mahal kita (I’m not only your fan, but I also love you).”

Marianne’s eyes widened as a memory came into her mind. “Ikaw yung nagbigay ng fake nails ko (You gave me that fake nails)!”

“Ako nga (I am),” he replied before letting out a cough of blood. “Ngunit ang pagmamahal ko sa iyo ang nagtulak sa akin para maging masama (But my love for you led me to being a bad person).”

He took her hand for the last time. “Ngayon alam ko na kung bakit hindi ako nararapat sa pagmamahal mo (Now I know why I don’t deserve your love),” he continued. “I’m a selfish person.”

He took the camera from his sling bag. There, it was covered with his blood.

“That was the key! Now you may now go back!” I heard the voice of the woman once more.

“Naku, huwag mo namang sabihin iyan (No, don't say that),” Marianne spoke as they both crashed towards the ground. She let the man rest unto her lap.

The man saw me and handed the camera to me. “Click that, Jong, and you two would come home,” he spoke before inhaling his last breath.

I was about to click the camera when I saw the shadow of the general rising up. When I looked up, I saw him raging with fear as he aimed his gun towards us. “Hindi ako magpapatalo sa takot (I will not lose over fear)!”

I saw Clara walking towards us. I suddenly had the feeling of guilt of letting her go. I don't want to go yet.

"Adios, Joaquín (Good bye, Joaquin)," she spoke.

She took the camera from me and clicked it, making me drop towards the abyss. Moment by moment, darkness consumed us until I finally heard voices again.

.

“Sino kaya ang may gawa nito sa kanila (Who might have done this to them)?"