Two days after Fluor's acceptance, Manila felt different.
Not louder. Not quieter.
Just… sharper.
As if the city itself sensed that something monumental was underway behind the tinted windows of TG's headquarters.
Inside Timothy's office, the blinds were drawn halfway, letting in slanted morning sunlight that cut across the floor. He sat behind his desk reviewing a progress chart on his monitor—Helios's capital mobilization, the NuScale transitional roadmap, and Fluor's draft exit memorandum.
Everything was moving.
Too smoothly.
He didn't like it.
Hana entered without knocking, tablet in hand, expression tight. Not stressed. Not panicked. Just… tense.
That alone made Timothy look up.
"What happened?"
Hana exhaled once. "Sir… the call came."
Timothy leaned back slowly. "Which call?"
"The one we were expecting."
She paused.
"CFIUS."
The room cooled.
They both knew this moment was inevitable.
