October was just another month passing: scorching afternoons, no grand promises for anyone to await—just another stretch of time before the long-awaited Christmas holidays. Nobody focuses on it. This time around, however, one viral video ensured that everyone would remember this month.

On a blazing afternoon in Tondo, Manila, a group recorded a man walking down a narrow street. He looked like Jesus Christ—long hair, a battered white robe, a face identical to the statues found in churches.

“Jesus! Jesus! Isang smile naman jan!” slurred the one holding the phone.

The long-haired man fixed his gaze on him, slowly turning toward the camera, then walked closer to where the group sat.

“Jesus! Kulang pambili ng Red Horse, baka naman oh!” the oldest joked, pushing a pitcher of water closer to the man as the laughter erupted around them.

Jesus looked at the pitcher, then at the man. As soon as he touched it, the clear liquid darkened, turning amber with an almost bronze glint. The group stood in shock, their screams distorting the speakers of every phone that replayed the video.

The clip went viral in a day. News channels aired it nonstop. With the wide coverage and stardom born from just one clip, people started making memes and tried to uncover Jesus’ real identity.

Yet before the week even ended and the virality died down, public focus shifted to Bagyong Rosal, whose eye passed directly over Manila. The flood was chest-level. As the storm raged over the capital, someone on the top floor of a condo livestreamed the scene below, asking for help and criticizing past government projects whose promised results were nowhere to be seen at such a critical moment.

The streamer specifically zoomed in on a group of people clutching at one another on top of a jeepney and urged their online audience to try and help them contact disaster response teams. But before the monologue could finish, the camera quickly panned towards a figure approaching the crowded jeepney with no trouble, his robes barely wet; not a single part of his body succumbing to the water.

When he got in front of the jeepney, he raised his hands not to demand attention, but to offer peace. The continuous piercing of the rain simply snapped—not slowed or faded—off in the blink of an eye, and the ground itself swallowed the water—not towards the drainage, but seeping into the Earth.

Streets filled with cheers, and the internet, the news, and the entire country talked about him. Churches in every city were filled every day, and religious elders sang hymns every morning. There were skeptics who watched every single frame of Jesus’ viral videos determined to expose his tricks, and then there’s the government insisting the typhoon miracle was just a mere timing-related coincidence. They claimed that the flood control projects they funded earlier that year finally proved their value. Yet none could explain the sudden disappearance of the rain.

The halls of the Philippine Children’s Medical Center’s halls, which were always filled with muffled cries from parents and children, became silent once they saw him walking. No doctor or nurse accompanied him, and not a single sound left his mouth. All he did was walk around, sit beside the children, and touch their foreheads, and by the time he left, hospital records showed that every child had been inexplicably cured in less than twenty-four hours.

Doctors and parents were unable to explain what happened. All they could tell the press was that Jesus came and wiped the sweat off the children’ s face.

The attention was now stuck to him, and it only intensified when the vice president held a press conference. The opportunity to speak first was unexpectedly given to Jesus himself, and the masses expected that he would give the vice president a free promotion. After all, whatever occasion he was in went viral.

“Vice President, please tell the people why the money for the flood gates dried up but the waters never did,” Jesus gently asked as he stood in the middle of the crowd.

“This is baseless. Show me the receipts. If you are able to provide them, I will investigate it myself, but without it, this is merely a baseless accusation. What happened sa Bagyong Rosal ay isa sa nagpapakita na ang mga project na ginawa noon ay naging epektibo. Anyone who says otherwise is lying,” the vice president replied with a scoff,

But before the sound of his laughter could fully escape his throat, flames engulfed him. Nobody could trace its origin, and the only things that remained on stage were the sizzling pile of ashes, his expensive leather shoes, and his Rolex watch.

Time passed. Two days remained before the deadline for filing certificates of candidacy. The country overflowed with complaints about those who are running for office. Yet in Luneta, a crowd of people curiously gathered, having received their savior’s divine summons days before. The first time they heard his voice, the vice president was set into flames for lying. Now, they wondered what he can say that will make a change.

The sun blinded the crowd. There he stood onstage, wearing nothing but his battered, dirty white robe again.

“The shepherds that stood before you are now wolves,” he began.

His voice echoed as if a speaker resided in his chest. “Altars are now stained with gold, and they need to be cleansed from the core itself.” He paused for a second, looking at every single person in front of him as if reading their mind.

“I didn’t return to simply observe the chaos this country has become. The era of empty promises ends now. I am running for the presidency.”

Questions filled the park immediately after the news broke, and debates sparked over whether or not his candidacy was a good idea.

The first to openly mock his candidacy was a young politician, Garabaz, whose family had been in the business for generations. He spearheaded the attack through continuous posts online calling Jesus a “blasphemous delusional man in a Halloween costume.” This move from a politician only exposed the dread of the established powers in the country. The State now realized that if this man could force the truth from their mouths to gain the highest seat, every skeleton in the nation’s closet and stolen cent will be brought to light. Every unholy alliance will vanish, and those who are part of it will perish.

Then, there’s the Church who saw its spiritual authority, which had a grip on the country from the shadows for decades, and who has carefully curated its influence over the faithful, now close to crumbling. They knew that if this Jesus was their savior as he claimed he is, the foundation of their intertwined power is destined to crumble.

Neither the country’s leaders nor bishops had any ready-made prayer to stop this divine intervention. They saw that he had finally risen again—not to save their souls, but to empty their thrones.