Ariel arrived the next morning with a kapre, a duwende, and what appeared to be a tikbalang who'd gotten lost on the way to somewhere else.
"Emergency meeting!" Ariel announced. "Glad, you got THE LETTER, right?"
"How did you know?"
"Everyone knows. The creature network is faster than the internet." He gestured to his companions. "This is Ben (you know Ben), Toto (duwende, very good with plants), and Junior (tikbalang, don't mention the horse thing, he's sensitive). They're here to explain the Council."
Junior—a seven-foot-tall being with the head of a horse and the body of a man—looked offended. "I'm not sensitive. I just prefer 'equine-adjacent.'"
"Noted." Glad waved them inside. "Coffee? Blood? Both?"
They settled around her living room while Anino watched from his perch, eyes tracking every movement.
Ben spoke first. "The Supernatural Council—technically the Philippine Congress of Mythical Beings—has existed since pre-colonial times. But when the Spaniards arrived, we went underground. Literally. Some of us have been living in caves for 400 years."
"That's dedication to avoidance," Glad said.
"When the alternative is conversion or death, caves seem nice." Ben shrugged. "Anyway, the Department formalized things in 1901. Now we have representatives, voting rights, and a budget for community projects."
Toto piped up, his small voice squeaky but authoritative. "I'm the duwende representative for Visayas. Very important job. Lots of paperwork. Humans keep building on our mounds, so I spend most of my time filing complaints."
"And the tikbalang representative?" Glad asked carefully.
Junior straightened. "That's me. Well, one of them. There are three of us. We cover forests, mountains, and—my specialty—race tracks."
"Race tracks?"
"Horse racing is huge in the Philippines. Someone has to make sure the bets are fair." He winked. Or tried to; with horse eyes, it was more of a blink.
Ariel explained further. "The Council meets every full moon. We discuss issues affecting the community—blood supply shortages, human encroachment, media representation. Lately, we've been dealing with a lot of TikTok-related incidents."
"TikTok incidents?"
"Younger creatures posting content without thinking. A wakwak accidentally live-streamed a hunt last month. Very messy. Very viral. Very deleted."
Glad absorbed this information. A whole government, hidden beneath the human one. Representatives for every creature type. Voting rights. Community projects.
"What would I do," she asked slowly, "if I registered? Besides pay taxes?"
Ben's face lit up. "You'd be a symbol. The first public Manananggal. You could advocate for creature rights, appear in media, help humans understand us."
"I already do that. By accident."
"Imagine doing it on purpose. With resources. With support."
Glad looked at Anino. Anino looked back.
"Think about it," Ariel said gently. "No pressure. But the community is excited. You're the first of us to be loved by humans, Glad. That's powerful."
After they left, Glad sat alone with her cat and her thoughts.
"Anino," she whispered, "what do I do?"
Anino jumped off his perch, walked to her bag, and nudged it with his nose.
Inside was the Department letter.
"Register?"
He nudged it again.
"Are you sure?"
He sat on the letter, purring loudly.
"Okay. Okay. I'll think about it."
But they both knew she'd already decided.