I'm The King of Business & Technology in the Modern World

By Monday morning, the pressure had shifted from heavy to crushing. Every department was operating like clockwork, but the sense of urgency had dialed up. The U.S. Special Forces team was expected to arrive the next day. The ten Titan Mk-I units needed to be perfect.

Matthew arrived at the hangar earlier than usual. He skipped breakfast, coffee in hand, and headed straight to the production floor. The hum of tools, the sound of welding arcs, and the occasional beeping of equipment filled the space. To an outsider, it might look chaotic. To Matthew, it was progress.

Angel was already on-site. She stood near a group of admin staff, running through a checklist on her tablet, giving quick, quiet instructions to one of the facility supervisors. She looked up when she spotted him.

"Three armor panels failed quality control this morning," she said without greeting. "We're pulling them from Unit 04. Backup replacements are already en route from storage."

Matthew nodded, not surprised. "ETA?"

"Three hours. We'll lose half a day on calibration, though."

He rubbed his temple. "We can live with that as long as it doesn't happen again."

Angel glanced back at her tablet. "Also, the team from the U.S. embassy confirmed the Special Forces team arrives tomorrow at 0800. Local military will be escorting them from Clark."

"Good. Let's be ready for the welcome party."

They walked together toward the calibration room, where Watanabe was running another sync test on Unit 06. The suit stood upright on a platform while the Filipino operator—part of the local support team—went through the neural connection process.

"Signal's stable," Watanabe reported without looking up. "We're refining the dampening feedback on lateral movement. It's throwing the balance off by a fraction of a second."

"Fix it," Matthew said. "Even a fraction gets someone killed in the field."

Watanabe didn't argue.

Matthew stepped aside and watched silently. The operator took a few slow steps. The exosuit responded smoothly, but Matthew's eyes narrowed. He could still see a delay, barely a twitch—but it was there.

"Run it again," he ordered.

Watanabe signaled the operator, and the process repeated. No complaints. No wasted words.

—

Around noon, Dr. Vasquez led him to the fabrication area. Unit 09 was still being assembled, and it was the last one left. She handed him a report.

"We've replaced the damaged servo lines. Power core is holding full charge. We'll hit the diagnostic window by tonight."

Matthew skimmed the report. "What about the heat signature issues from last week?"

"Resolved. We layered extra graphene under the chest plate. Reduced heat bleed by ten percent."

He nodded. "Good work."

Vasquez exhaled. "The team's tired, Matthew. We've been running nonstop."

He looked around. She wasn't wrong. People looked drained. Eyes baggy, movements slower. But they weren't stopping. Not even close.

"We're almost there," Matthew said. "Tell them."

Vasquez gave a quick nod and walked off.

—

Later in the afternoon, the team gathered again in the main briefing room. It wasn't a formal meeting. Just a rundown of the final preparations before the U.S. team arrived.

Daniel opened his laptop and connected to the projector.

"All ten units are operational. Seven passed full diagnostics. Two are in final sync calibration. One still being assembled but on track for tonight."

Angel added, "Embassy has cleared our facility for tomorrow's visit. We'll need full security on outer gates and badges for the visiting team."

"Already handled," Matthew replied. "Let's run everything like it's an audit."

Dr. Vasquez leaned forward. "Are we doing a live demo?"

Matthew paused. "Yes. But only Unit 03. It's our most stable one. We walk them through the suit, let one of their own step in for initial interface testing. That's it."

Watanabe looked up. "You're not letting them run drills?"

"Not yet. I want their first impression to be control, not chaos."

There was a brief silence, then everyone nodded. The plan was solid.

—

That night, Matthew stayed late again. Alone in his office, he reviewed the final logistics report. Everything pointed to green—at least on paper. But he wasn't looking at numbers. He was thinking about perception. Tomorrow wasn't just about the U.S. seeing the Titan up close. It was about proving that the Philippines could be the home of something this powerful and advanced.

His phone buzzed. A message from Angel: Main hangar's quiet. You should go home.

He stared at the message for a second, then stood up and walked out of the office.

Instead of heading home, he went to the hangar.

Inside, Unit 09 was finally upright, the last adjustments being made by a sleepy pair of engineers. Matthew didn't interrupt them. He just stood there for a while, hands in his pockets, staring at the row of exosuits standing like metal giants waiting for orders.

It hit him, in that moment, how much had changed since that first sketch on a napkin. How far they'd come in a year.

And how much further there was to go.

—

The next morning, the sun hadn't fully risen when the convoy of black SUVs entered the facility.

Matthew stood near the gates, Angel beside him. Both were dressed clean and sharp, wearing their Sentinel badges. Behind them, the core team was lined up, ready to welcome the visitors.

The vehicles stopped. The doors opened. Out stepped six men and women in military fatigues, each one marked with the insignia of elite U.S. special operations. Behind them, a few embassy staff followed, including the Defense Attaché.

One of the soldiers stepped forward. Early 40s, tall, composed. He extended a hand to Matthew.

"Captain Bryce Morgan. We've read the files. Looking forward to seeing it for ourselves."

Matthew shook his hand. "You'll get more than files today, Captain."

Morgan gave a slight smile. "Good. Because I didn't fly halfway around the world for a PowerPoint."

Angel chuckled softly behind Matthew. "You'll find we're not that kind of company."

—

The tour began right away.

They walked the team through the calibration booths, the assembly floor, the training suites. Every station was operating, every staff member alert and on script. Angel led the explanations. Matthew filled in the technical gaps. Dr. Vasquez handled the engineering questions, while Watanabe walked Captain Morgan through the neural sync interface.

Finally, they entered the test chamber.

Unit 03 stood ready. One of the U.S. operators suited up. The neural sync process began.

Matthew stood beside the observation window, arms crossed, not blinking.

The operator inside the suit began to move. The feed showed everything—muscle signal latency, servo response time, stabilization metrics.

He walked.

He jogged.

Then he broke into a run.

And stopped with perfect control.

The U.S. team didn't clap. They weren't the clapping type. But they exchanged glances.

Captain Morgan turned to Matthew. "You weren't exaggerating."

Matthew shrugged. "We usually don't."

—

Later, as the sun started to dip behind the skyline, Captain Morgan pulled Matthew aside.

"You've got something real here," he said. "When these hit the field, it's going to change everything."

Matthew met his eyes. "That's the plan."

Morgan nodded once. "We'll be sending in full feedback to Fort Hanley. But from where I stand? You're ready."

Matthew extended a hand.

Captain Morgan shook it firmly.

Then turned and walked back to his team.

Matthew stood there for a moment, watching them load back into the SUVs.

Angel joined him. "That go well?"

"I think we passed," he said.

She smiled. "Good. Now we just have to deliver."

Matthew looked back at the facility, where the lights were still on, where the work hadn't stopped.

"We will."

And they would.

Because now, there was no room left for doubt.

Only results.