Mateo Rivera just graduated. Civil engineering degree. Arnis practitioner. A pair of rattan sticks and a head full of calculations. He took one photo under a Balete tree. Then the lightning struck. And the world he knew was gone. He wakes in a land that should only exist in history books—the pre-colonial Philippines, where rivers are highways, gold is currency, and a man's worth is measured by his blade and his bloodline. He doesn't speak the language. He doesn't know the customs. And the first person he meets tries to kill him. Mateo survives. He always survives. But survival in this world comes with a price. Something followed him through the Balete. Something old. Something hungry. Every life he takes feeds it. Every victory makes him faster, sharper, colder. The locals have a word for what he's becoming. They whisper it behind his back. They call him dayuhan. Stranger. Outsider. They have no idea how right they are. Armed with nothing but two sticks, modern engineering, and a brutality he never knew he possessed, Mateo must carve a place for himself in a world of rajahs, datus, and sea raiders. He will build. He will fight. He will bleed. And he will learn that the only thing more dangerous than the enemies outside his walls is the darkness growing within. Because this land has a long memory. And it does not let go.
