Two days later, Timothy stood in his garage at Tondo.
The Camaro sat in the corner.
Fifth generation. V8. Faded paint. Scratches along the rear quarter panel. Aftermarket wheels that did not match. The interior smelled like old leather and dust.
Seven hundred thousand pesos.
That was all it cost him.
The seller had looked confused when Timothy paid in full without haggling.
"You know it drinks fuel," the man had said.
"I am not keeping the engine," Timothy replied.
Now, alone in the garage, Timothy opened the driver door and sat inside.
The seat creaked. The steering wheel was too large. The pedals were heavy in the wrong way. Everything about it screamed brute force without refinement.
He liked that.
It was a blank slate.
He closed the door and spoke quietly.
"Reconstruction System."
The world shifted.
The familiar translucent interface appeared in front of his eyes. Clean lines. Neutral colors. No unnecessary animation.
RECONSTRUCTION SYSTEM ONLINE
