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31. EXT. EDSA, ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF MAKATI – CONTINUOUS

Habagat slams head first into the roof of an abandoned Toyota (many motorists have already deserted their vehicles, and watch from the sidelines).

The car crumples in a loud metallic whump, and for an instant, Habagat is unconscious, the merest sliver of a second, then, his eyes shoot open, in time to see a white Sentra flying towards him.

With little else to do (the Tagabah-launched car is traveling too fast, and is already too close to stop), Habagat rolls off the wrecked Toyota, and whizzes towards the nearest crowd of civilians. Then, just as the Sentra impacts against the Toyota, and both vehicles explode in a hellish fireball, Habagat spreads his cape, blocking flaming shrapnel with his back.

He stands there for an instant, beneath the monsoon of burning, smoking metal, harmlessly pelting his broad back, cape billowing majestically.

Then, he turns quickly, to see Tagabah spotting a middle-aged, overweight man who seems to have forgotten (or is unwilling) to abandon his vehicle. Habagat sees Tagabah’s eyes flare red with destructive energy, and suddenly, he is there, standing on the car’s hood, blocking the beams of fiery heat that pulse from his enemy’s eyes.

The beams strike the icon on Habagat’s chest, and the metal it is made of disperses the heat, but the roiling, searing energies are astounding, unearthly.

Habagat has never been on the receiving end of his own heat vision, and the agony is intense, far worse than volcanic temperatures. Habagat grits his teeth, refusing to cry out in pain, unwilling to give his enemy the satisfaction.

Habagat clenches his hands into fists, praying he can withstand this punishment.

Then, without even realizing it as it was happening, Habagat finds himself on his knees, holding himself up with straining, quivering arms, still blocking the beams with his broad chest, the icon glowing now, as if on fire.

Habagat is dimly aware of the motorist finally scrambling out of his car.

Agonized, the hero notices that where his body contacts the car-- his boots, his knees, his hands-- the paint is bubbling, the metal running, melting from the tremendous temperature of Habagat’s battered body.

Then, the heat vision ceases its assault, and Habagat shuts his eyes, breathes heavily, his chest smoking, the skin beneath his suit burnt and tender.

His body wracked by pain, Habagat struggles to his feet, but the valiant champion is unsteady, wanting only to slump down and rest.

Instead, he opens his eyes, and looks upon, first, the sinister icon of a stylized bird’s skull, stretched across a broad and somehow, familiar, chest (he sees his reflection there, on its metal surface, warped, brutish somehow) then, up, to the cruel visage of Tagabah-- his own face, the face he sees every day in the mirror, on newspapers and magazine covers; stripped of warmth though, of any vestige of humanity, teeth bared in a cruel grimace.

He looks upon Tagabah, and feels an arctic lump of fear in the pit of his stomach.

Then, Tagabah’s fist, like a meteor, like a planet, slams into Habagat’s jaw in a perfect haymaker.

Habagat’s body, limp, arcs upwards into the air, on a trajectory for Magallanes.

Tagabah roars to the grey skies, his arrogance, his pride. In counterpoint, lightning forks in the near distance.

Then, he flies off, in pursuit of his enemy, the hero he will see crushed and broken before this day is done.

32. EXT. MAGALLANES FLY-OVER – CONTINUOUS

Habagat’s indestructible body smashes into the base of the Lost billboard in a deafening crash.

And though the fly-over is not completely empty of cars-- there are still those coming down the highway, headed towards Alabang-- it is not as jam-packed as it might have been (the bottleneck of stalled cars in Ayala helping tremendously).

Seconds after he strikes the billboard, Habagat hears the ominous creaking from above, sees the billboard buckling, about to collapse.

Instinctively, he arrests his fall, hovers, then braces himself, plants his hands flat on the billboard’s surface, and pushes.

But again, his clone has other plans.

Pain detonates in Habagat’s kidney area, as he feels Tagabah’s fist pound there, one-two-three dozen times, rabbit punches vicious and cruel, with power enough to level buildings.

Still straining to keep the billboard upright, the muscles of his shoulders and broad back tense, pronounced, visible despite the cape, the hero holds his ground.

Then, brutally, Habagat feels Tagabah’s boots slam into the back of his head, right at the base of his skull, and he is pushed violently forward.

Even as he hears the billboard come crashing down, knowing he will be unable to stop his forward momentum (and thus, be unable to stop the impending crash), he is jerked back bodily.

Stunned, reeling from the cruel blow to the back of the head, Habagat is at best dimly aware that he is being pulled at high speed by his cape.

He hears the billboard complete its downward crash, then, he is under the overpass.

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