Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

David Martinez was having, honestly, what was probably the shittiest day of his life. It had started fine, great even, with a new installation of his (slightly) guilty pleasure of JK's Edgerunner series. He knew his mom didn't like him watching "those murder porn" XBDs, but there was something about the… feel of it, of chrome burning under his skin, brain half scrambled, that made it so appealing. Especially ones where the Sixth Street got fucked up. Those were his favorites.

But from the moment he had got to school, things had gone wrong. The drive Doc had insisted was compatible with the update to the servers hadn't been and instead took down the entire server with it. His mom, already tired from her nightshift, ironically cleaning up from the same Cyberpsycho incident that had been made into Edgerunners #36, had to come in and have a discussion with the principal where she promised to pay for the repairs. Then they got into an argument in the car. And now?

Now they were the collateral in a gangoon drive-by by the Animals. The Animals of all gangs, not the Sixth Street, not Maelstrom, not the Tyger Claws, but the Animals . 

David tore at the nylon seatbelt with a shard of glass, staring through one eye as the other swelled with bruising. His Mom, his Mamà was lying there, the Trauma Team had just left them to die.

Temperance? Not so much. But no one is perfect.

Finally, the belt snapped and David fell from his seat, his head cracking against the roof and stars flashed across his vision. Don't pass out, don't pass out.

 Compassion, you have in spades.

"Mamà!" David called, grabbing the edge of the window, ignoring the feeling of glass biting into his fingers and pulled himself forwards and out of the car. Bringing his arm down on the field of broken glass, he finally hissed as they tore into his arm.

Nor are you lacking in Valor

David crawled out of the car, huffing for breath as his vision faded in and out. As he tried to stand up, the world pitched and he staggered, falling sideways with his eyes still locked on Gloria. 

Mom, gotta help... Mom…

And Conviction, yes, I'd say that to say you have that is an understatement . Perhaps a bit too much, though I am not one to judge.

David squinted as the sun suddenly got in his eyes, refusing to take his eyes off Gloria for so much as a second. Then a hand appeared in his field of view and David blinked. Were the ambulances already here?

Then he noticed the laurel in the hand. What…?

Take my hand, then, David Martinez, I suppose you will do.

David took the hand.

This City, this World. It has come to speak only one language. I will teach you to speak it better than anyone else.

The hand tugged him up with gentle ease, steadying David as he attempted to squint into the dawn's light. He could only make out the vague shape of a man with four arms, and a melancholy smile.

I am Sol Invictus. And you shall be Caste in the Golden Dawn, Breath now in royalty, is perfection, in Exaltation. Breath your second breath, David.

David breathed in, deeply as the very Dawn seemed to rush in, pushing through his mouth and nose, through the injuries from the grash and passed the shards of glass embedded in his arms.

Now, Lightbringer, attend to your mother so we may begin.

—

Jackie Welle looked up from where he was setting V, just "V"'s, nose at the table in the Coyote Cojo, a wide grin spreading across his face as he did, "Let's get this done quick, Chica ."

"Someone you know, big guy? Valentino?"

"Helps at the bar here and there, when he ain't pushing XBDs. Not technically legal, but what is nowadays? Davey, hombrecito! What can I do for you? Mierda, have you been hitting the gym, or did you finally decide to do some chippin'? Please tell me you haven't gone on the Juice?"

It was a good question, the boy had changed in the month since Jackie had last seen him. Taller, what little baby fat remained burning off and he had begun to bulk up. Broader shoulders, lean muscles, a runner's build if there ever was one. Not the Juice then, that was, what was the old term? "Roided out", but he had still bulked up faster than was normal.

David looked down in confusion, before shaking his head and speaking in Spanish, "I need a job that will get me a bunch of Eddies fast, Jackie. Don't care what it is, don't care how dangerous it is, just need it done fast."

Jackie paused in confusion and a mounting fraction of horror. There were too many reasons you would want money in Night City to be certain, but almost all of them were bad so he wasn't exactly excited by that, " What happened? "

" Hit on an Arasaka limo ," David said, " Animals. We were… we were in the way and they just, just opened fire. HMG tore through the car, and then once they got ahead of us they fired a  RPG at it, flipped it over and we smashed into it."

We… We .

"Gloria?"

" In the hospital, Trauma ," David spat the word like a curse, " Left us, had to take Meatwagon ."

"How much and how long do you have?" Jackie said in English, guiding David off his feet and cracking open a beer to hand to the kid. He looked like he needed it after the day he had.

David told him the number. Jackie didn't bother to stifle the Spanish curse that came out of his mouth at the same time Pepe hissed loudly between his teeth. Was it possible?

Technically. If you didn't sleep at all in the three days and only had the highest end jobs.

"How much you got already?" Jackie said warily, "and you got anything we can sell to make some eddies fast?"

"Forty Thousand," David said, nodding, "And, this."

Jackie starred as David pulled a metallic spine out of the yellow EMT jacket he was wearing, laying it on the table.

"What is that?"

"Sandevistan," David said, "Milispec, it was… it was in Mom's jacket. I don't know why, I just need somewhere to pawn it off. I tried Doc and he only was willing to pay ten K, and I know it's worth more than that."

"I know a guy," Jackie said with a nod, shooting Vic a message, "Let's go see him."

— 

David got out of the Red Cab, watching Jackie pay the taxi driver before joining him, "Why didn't we just take the NCART?"

"With a piece of Milispec chrome?" Jackie asked quietly, "You want to get jumped by some Scavs, hombrecito ? Because that's how we'd end up getting jumped again. No, better to take something more private, that way we know who to zero if it gets out."

"What about that girl who was at the bar with you and Pepe?"

"V? I got a good feeling about the chica, and my gut's never proved me wrong before. We'll be fine. Misty, how are you?"

"Jackie! You didn't tell me you were coming over today!" The woman behind the counter, a dyed blonde wearing a spiked choker and dark blue shirt, said, beaming a smile that lit up the candle lit room they were in, "And who's this? Nephew?"

"Just a kid who helps at the Cojo sometimes," Jackie shook his head, "He's actually why we're here. He's visiting Vik."

"Getting chipped up?" She asked, scanning David with a green eyed gaze that seemed to take in everything he was and more in one sweep and offering him a hand, "Misty Olszewski. Owner of Misty's Esoterica."

"David Martinez," David said, taking the hand and shaking it, "and no, I don't think so. I just need to talk to him about… something."

"You can trust Misty, she can keep a secret," Jackie said.

"I figure it'd be better if less people know what it is, for safety reasons," David hedged.

"Well," Jackie said, "It's yours until you sell it, so if you wanna keep it quiet, we'll keep it quiet. Vik knows he's coming, is David good to go in?"

"Should be, unless someone came in the back," Misty nodded, gesturing at the back entrance, "into the alleyway and down the stairs, David. Unless you'd like a tarot reading first? It comes free with every consultation, if you want one."

"Uh, no thanks?" David said.

"To each his own," Misty said with a smile, "Good luck, David."

"Thanks, Misty," David said, before stopping in the doorway to the alley, "Hey, Misty?"

"Yes?"

"Does the name Sol Invictus mean anything to you? Just… been going through my head, since the crash."

"I can't say it does off the top of my head, but I can look into it if you want."

"Yeah," David nodded, "Please, thank you."

—

Viktor Vektor looked up as the door to the clinic opened, letting in a teenager with spiky brown hair, bandages wrapped around his arms and a few ghosts of bruises on his face, "You must be David, come on in."

"Yes," David said as Vik hit the button to unlock the sliding grate between them. David reached out with his left hand and practically threw the gate open with barely any exertion. He stepped into the clinic, standing there awkwardly, "You're - uh, your Dr. Vektor?"

"I'm not a doctor," Vik said, before pausing, "Well, not that kind of doctor. Not anymore, just call me Vik, kid, everyone does."

"Uh, alright, Vik? Jackie said you could help me sell a piece of Chrome that recently came into my possession, if you know what I mean?"

Vik cracked a smile at the kid, "You don't need to act like this is a black market deal, kid. It's probably illegal, yeah, but we're in my office. We aren't bugged, you can talk openly. How'd you get this Chrome, exactly? I don't mind selling it, but if this is a Five Finger Scav, I'd at least like to know."

David chewed air for a few seconds, looking around the clinic like he expected the NCPD to burst from the shade before saying, "It was with my Mom's stuff, after… after a car crash. I don't know how she got it, didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth, you know?"

"That's fair, a thing you're gonna learn about the Edge, asking too many or too few questions can get you in hot water. Let's see this baby, let me take a look at it and I can give you an appraisal.

David nodded, pulling a biohazard bag from underneath his Arasaka Academy blazer and laying it on Vik's desk. Vik pulled it out, listening to the metallic vertebrate clink as he extended it so it wasn't coiled like some sort of worm.

"A Sandevistan," Vik said, laying it flat and grabbing a cable to link it to his personal terminal, bringing up the specs and lack of a serial number, and immediately taking another look at David through his sunglasses, "You said your mom got this?"

"Yeah," David nodded.

"How'd she get something that makes a Militech Falcon look like a child's toy, if you don't mind me picking?"

"...I think she stole it. You hear about the Cyberpyscho incident last night? James Norris? She was on clean up."

"They did say a Sandy was missing from that," Vik said, leaning back in his chair and thinking, "Alright, so here's the problem, Kid. Normally what would happen now is I would send out some feelers, talk to some contacts and spread the word that I have this bad boy. Then we would sell it to the highest bidder and that'd be that. The problem we have is that that would normally take a month or two and you said you needed the Eddies fast, right?"

"Yeah," David said, nodding, "I only have three days, Vik."

"REO?" Vik said, and David nodded, "Which package did you go for, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Standard, I… I couldn't let her die, Vik."

"But now you're in the hole and don't know what to do," Vik said, "How much you got going in if, once again, you don't mind me asking, Kid?"

"Forty Thousand," David said.

"So you're about halfway there," Vik said, "Alright, here's what I can offer you. Normally, something like this would go for about the same amount, if we could find a client willing to pay. I'll… be generous here, twenty five thousand, paid now for the Sandy, plus advice on how to make the last fifteen K."

"And that is?" David said.

"If you don't want to go too close to the Edge, SubConning for the NCPD," Vik answered, pulling the terminal closer to them and opening a page, "all it takes is plugging in your personal link here and you're signed up. They'll send you any bulletins for crime in your area. You take it out, get paid."

"I've never… I don't own a gun."

"Then I'll throw that in too," Vik said, reaching under the desk and pulling out a gun case, linking his personal link to it and opening it to reveal a Unity and five clips, "You seem like a good kid in a bad situation, David. This is the best I can do."

David took the gun, and offered his personal link.

—

Chapter Text

David stepped out of Vic's clinic and, nearly immediately, got an alert in the corner of his vision.

[Assault in Process.]

Ah, NC, you glorious shithole. Just hand him what he needed on a silver platter. Quietly, David checked the pistol Vik had given him as he passed through the alley outside of the clinic, feeling like his hand had been meant to hold a gun his entire life. The rubberized grip, the weight of the magazine as it dropped into his hand before he returned it to its place in the well, the flow as he racked the slide to chamber a round.

Stopping in front of the wall between him and the shortest way to the street with the alert, David bent his legs and kicked off from the ground, planting his feet on one wall and kicking off repeatedly until he was even with the roof and landed on it.

It was only then that David realized he didn't know how he had done that. Standing on a roof he had scaled with parkour abilities he didn't know he had. Pushing the thought aside, David jogged towards the alert and finally stopped above the crime, the double layer of his Arasaka blazer under his mom's jacket dancing in the light breeze. Standing around the alley, and one over a red headed woman curled up on the ground clutching her stomach, was a group of five Tyger Claws.

David lined up a shot with the leader's head, breathing in. Pulling the trigger, the Unity gave a loud bang and sent the man staggering away from the woman, but still standing.

Fucking dermal armor? His first time doing this couldn't be easy could it!?

Leaping off the roof as guns swiveled towards them, David slammed shoulder first into the leader and sent them both sprawling over the ground. Rolling on top of the asian man as quickly as possible, David shoved the pistol into his mouth, fighting the thrashing man every step of the way and pulled the trigger. Once, twice, thrice. Finally, the thrashing stopped as blood splattered out the back of the Tyger's skull, three rounds clinking onto the cement.

David lept off, backpedaling and dodging the bullets pinging off the cement from the various Tygers as he went. Well, except the one with the tech shotgun, she just blew holes in the ground behind where he had been.

Alright, Davey, you could do this. You were the Dawn.

Time slowed in David's perception as he breathed in, eyes scanning the three people firing at him, David raised the gun again, lifting it to be equal with the center of mass with the leftmost Tyger, who was holding a heavy revolver and lining up a shot as David entered the zone. A bit higher, and it was even with the head.

It was impossible, even to David's heightened senses, to tell which gun went off first. All he knew was he was jerking to the side as hot lead brushed against his cheek at the same moment the gunner fell back with a clean hole in their head. He flowed from one attack to another, gunning down the other two Claws when…

His gut screamed at him, and he whirled around just in time to dodge a slash from the last Tyger, who had deployed a pair of Mantis Blades. Staggering back, David dodged the slashes as quickly as he could, until finally a blade came for his throat. Lashing up his left hand, David knocked the blade into the air and fired twice into the Claws head, dropping him.

Pressing the ejection button, David let the empty Unity mag punctuate the firefight as he sent a message to the Sub Con headquarters.

—

David sat in his apartment, having quickly bit the bullet and paid the rent and scanned the map of Night City, blips representing known criminal strongholds, for lack of a better term, blinking in front of his eyes. Finally, he locked onto one near his house and stood up, slinging the Satara he had taken off the Tyger Claw over one shoulder and picking up Vic's Unity with the other.

Stepping out of the apartment, he quickly took his usual path through H4 and onto the streets. It said how bad Santa was that nobody spared a glance at the kid walking down the streets with a gun slung over his shoulder. Finally, he stopped at a street corner, eyes reading the message that popped up.

[ NCPD subcontractor, there is a large quantity of Animals currently held up near your location. The NCPD is willing to pay 5,000 Euro Dollars for the elimination of all gang members.]

[Url=https://youtu.be/XiHw7MrTx30]Here[/URL] they went, he could do this. He had to do this. For Mom.

David swung out of around the corner and swung around the Satara so it was pointed at the nearest Animal, pulling the trigger and waiting the half second it took for electromagnetism to build up before the gun went off. Small flechettes flew from the gun and tore through the Animal like paper.

With his other hand, he snapped up the Unity and double tapped a second Animal without missing a heartbeat. Shoving the Unity into his pants pocket, he grabbed the heavy revolver out of the second Animal's hand and took their ammo. He flicked open the Satara and reloading it before he kicked open the mesh fence and swept in like the Dawn came to get rid of night.

Slowly, purposefully, with the last drops of night clinging and struggling against the inevitable. 

In this metaphor, which David wasn't sure where had come from, the night was the Animals that swung around with assault rifles and heavy shotguns. David snapped up the new revolver, firing it and feeling it kick like he had fired the Satara one handed again, and watched the bullet blow an Animal's head to showers of gore and lodge itself in the wall behind them.

Oh, he liked this one. 

Bringing the Satara down, he pulled the trigger and blew another Animal's cheat to pieces before spinning to dodge the blast from a massive shotgun that blew holes in the ground behind him, reloading as he went. Leveling the revolver, he pulled the trigger and watched another head vanish in a shower of gore.

Another Animal charged him, swinging a Cut-O-Matic at David's chest. David dodged a step backwards, driving his foot onto the downswing and forcing the chainsword to choke on concrete before planting the Satara on the Animal's chest and pulling the trigger.

To say there was a shower of gore was an understatement.

—

Gregor "The Roach" Samsa wasn't nicknamed that without reason. In his fifty years alive, forty of which had been spent with various boostergangs across NC that rose and fell like clockwork (bioaugs could only do so much to fight back against cyberware at the end of the day), he had "died'' seventeen times. Eleven times had been on the slab getting more augments implanted, three of them had been while wiring up his second heart alone. The other six had been during various gang wars, each time the various augs he had jolted him back to life after the fighting was done.

Never before had he seen someone stupid enough to attack a den by themselves. Heard of it? Of course, Even heard of people, Always Solos, getting away with it. But they were idiots, because the chances of it going according to whatever half cooked, drugged up plan they had were tiny.

Today he had met someone that stupid. A boy, sixteen to eighteen, assuming he hadn't had work done to make himself look younger, carrying a Satara and Burya, had burst into their base and begun opening fire. In the time it took Gregor to stand from his chair, four of the dozen Animals he was in charge of were dead from Tech guns blowing holes in them. Gregor gripped his ISI Chainaxe with one hand and pointed his Militech Crusher, one of the old designs from the Second Central American War to the Time of the Red, at the kid with a glowing tattoo in the center of his forehead.

The boy leapt high, dodging the cement shattering slug and slamming feet first into one of the Animals, Jessie, before bringing the Burya down and pulling the trigger, blood splattering across his face as he blew hers off at point blank range. 

The gun came up, heavy frame not even shaking as he leveled it at James, who swung a two handed ax at his throat. The other hand let go of Jessie as he rode her corpse down and deflected the ax with the palm of his hand, firing the Burya into James's head and not flinching as more blood and gray matter joined the amount already on him. 

Credit where credit was due, the kid wasn't soft. Sometimes, even in NC, you had a young gun who thought they were the shit and then couldn't handle it when bullets started flying and bodies started dropping. Kid didn't look chromed up, so this was probably one of his first jobs.

Ok, enough respect, the kid was killing his guys, Butch and Casedy had been perforated in the time it had taken for that respect, time to kill him. 

—