Chapter 147: Meeting Reyes

November 5th, 2027Bonifacio High Street, Taguig City

6:45 PM

The evening breeze moved gently through the rows of trees lining High Street, carrying with it the warm scent of cafés, dimly lit restaurants, and the distant hum of Manila traffic. Festive lights dangled across the open walkway—soft white, elegant, calm. The kind of atmosphere perfect for a meeting that would shape the next thirty years of global energy.

Timothy arrived first.

Crisp black button-down. Dark slacks. No tie. Sleeves rolled, as always. He stood beside the restaurant entrance, hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but sharp, like a man waiting for a promise finally fulfilled.

A black SUV eased to a stop nearby.

The door opened.

Dr. José Reyes stepped out.

He scanned the street—until his eyes found Timothy.

Their gazes met.

A moment hung between them.

Recognition. Curiosity. And something deeper: the weight of shared ambition.

Timothy stepped forward and extended a hand.

"Dr. Reyes. Welcome to Manila."

Reyes shook it firmly. "Mr. Guerrero. It’s an honor to finally meet the man who just bought half my life’s work."

Timothy smiled lightly. "You built it. I just gave it a future."

Reyes chuckled under his breath. "We’ll see."

They entered the restaurant—private room already reserved, dim lights casting warm tones across polished wood and glass. A server poured water silently, then left them alone.

For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Reyes leaned back slightly, studying Timothy the way a scientist observes a reactor core—searching for hidden power.

"I’ve worked with investors for years," he began. "Politicians, corporations, international delegations... and yet none of them ever made a move like you did."

Timothy shrugged. "No point moving slow if the world is racing."

Reyes exhaled. "Helios. TG Energy Systems. The acquisition. The speed. The precision. It was... astonishing."

"Necessary," Timothy corrected. "I knew the window was small. I had to move before someone else did—or before the U.S. buried your design forever."

Reyes cracked a tired smile. "You sound like you’ve been watching the nuclear sector for years."

"I have."

Reyes raised a brow. "Then tell me. Why SMRs? Why buy a company everyone else had already given up on?"

Timothy rested an elbow on the table, fingers tapping once.

"Because the world is entering an era where energy will decide everything."

Reyes listened intently.

Timothy continued, voice level and calm.

"Data centers, AI, semiconductor fabs, EV gigafactories, national defense—all of it depends on stable, scalable power. Not coal. Not gas. Not even solar. Real, industrial-grade power. The kind you can expand like LEGO pieces."

He leaned in slightly.

"SMRs are the only technology that can give humanity the energy density needed for the next century."

Reyes’s eyes glinted. "That’s exactly what I believed when I designed them."

"And everyone called you crazy for it," Timothy added.

Reyes chuckled. "They still do."

"Good," Timothy said. "Means you’re ahead."

The server brought their meals, steak for Timothy, grilled salmon for Reyes. Quiet, simple plates, clean presentation.

They ate for a minute before Reyes set down his fork.

"Let me guess," he said. "Now that you own NuScale, you want me to walk you through everything—the strengths, the flaws, the political traps."

Timothy nodded once. "Start with the flaws."

Reyes smiled thinly, as if testing whether Timothy truly understood what he bought.

"Alright," he said. "The truth is... SMRs are brilliant in theory but imperfect in execution."

He raised two fingers.

"First flaw: cooling redundancy. The passive cooling works, yes, but only under ideal failure conditions. If the core heats unevenly or if coolant channels degrade faster than modeled, the system requires backup pumps."

Timothy nodded. "Meaning it’s not truly ’pump-free.’"

"Exactly," Reyes confirmed. "Second flaw: scalability costs. Twelve modules in one pool sounds efficient, but the containment structure becomes disproportionately expensive. The more modules you add, the less cost-effective the entire plant becomes."

"Economies of scale work in reverse," Timothy said.

Reyes blinked. "Most people don’t grasp that immediately."

"I’m not most people," Timothy said quietly.

Reyes continued.

"Third flaw: reactor vessel weight. Transporting them is a logistical nightmare. They’re too large for aircraft, and difficult for many roads. Shipment becomes the bottleneck."

Timothy cut into his steak. "All solvable."

Reyes stared. "You say that as if you have alternatives."

Timothy didn’t answer directly.

Instead, he set down his fork and met Reyes’s gaze head-on.

"Tell me something," Timothy asked. "Do you think your SMR is the best possible design? Truly?"

Reyes opened his mouth—then closed it.

He removed his glasses and wiped them slowly.

"No," he said at last. "It’s the best design that regulatory agencies would allow."

Timothy’s lips curved into a faint smirk.

"That," he said, "is exactly why I bought you."

Reyes frowned. "Explain."

Timothy leaned forward.

"I don’t want the regulator-safe version. I want the impossible version. The version you couldn’t build in America. The design you had to kill on paper because someone at NRC told you it was too risky, too new, too disruptive."

He paused.

"Tell me, Dr. Reyes. Do you have that version?"

Reyes held his gaze for a long, charged moment.

Then he chuckled softly.

"You really are something else, Mr. Guerrero."

Timothy raised a brow. "Is that a yes?"

Reyes nodded slowly. "I have an alternate design. A more compact core. Better heat distribution. A variable coolant loop. It solves the weight problem and reduces the need for massive containment."

"And you didn’t submit it because...?"

Reyes shrugged. "Because the NRC would rather approve a wagon than a rocket."

Timothy smiled. "Then we build the rocket."

Reyes stared at him, the fire of a younger engineer rekindling in his eyes.

"You would actually fund that?" he asked quietly.

Timothy sat back. "Dr. Reyes, I didn’t spend $1.1 billion to repeat old mistakes. I bought NuScale because I don’t want SMRs that merely work—I want SMRs that change nations."

A slow breath left Reyes’s chest.

"God," he murmured, "I never thought I’d meet someone crazier than my younger self."

Timothy raised his glass. "To shared insanity."

Reyes lifted his own.

"To the future," he said.

Timothy smirked. "To the future we’re about to build."

Glasses clinked softly.