Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jericho

Being a Scav is better than what most of Night City imagined.

Oh sure, you're often looked at with raw disgust and often even a kill-on-sight from the likes of the Tyger Claws and even some Maelstrom members, at the very least, you do tend to earn a lot of eddies.

Enough eddies that the boss could afford to splurge on a seriously nice Quadra. Hell, to be frank the Scavs should be seen as the fucking Robin Hoods of the cyber era, where we rob the cyberwares from the rich corpo gonks and sell them cheaper. We're the only way for the poor, good-for-nothing masses to get these out of reach cyberwares.

They should be thanking us!

I leaned backward, watching the ad-filled holo-TV above me with nothing better to do. Boss and the techies are still tinkering away with the latest catch, some shitty PetroChem middle manager. So shit of a manager that his underlings decided to contact us with an opportunity to off him. Who are we to say no to such heartfelt pleas for revenge?

Nabbed the fucker right out of his wreck of a car.

"Blyat, we got company. A merc. Heavily armed. Can't tell the gender," Our netrunner said. "Can't tell what chrome he has either, but he's carrying an LMG."

That caused me to stop watching the holo above me. A merc? Probably for the PetroChem. Shit, guess the incompetence gene doesn't run in the family.

Grabbing a revolver— a Burya because daddy likes firepower— I strode up behind a wall, peeking over the edge to look at the closed door to the outside. Others did the same. Cammie was right beside the door with a shotgun at the ready. Dennise is in the back with a precision rifle. Carmine beside me with his Copperhead AR.

We readied for this merc's arrival.

Through the camera outside the apartment, our netrunner could tell exactly what the merc was doing.

"He's just stopped by the door. Cammie, get ready. He's raising his LMG— CAMMIE—"

Explosions were all that came after. A hole was torn open in the wall, blasts of concrete and rebar went flying, and Cammie was caught in the blast. She didn't even have time to scream as all that was left of her was her torso, which fell like matchsticks onto the ground.

"Oh— shit—" I raised the Burya just as the door was kicked open. With the merc locked down through the Burya's iron sight, I squeezed the trigger and felt the tiny gun's immense kickback as it fired.

*BANG*

The Burya echoed like a small explosive inside this apartment. Fuck, knocked me onto my ass as well. I swear I'm getting a gorilla arm the next chance I get. Rather than the silence that usually comes after a Burya shot, I heard more gunfire. An LMG's gunfire.

Carmine didn't even have time to scream before he was disintegrated by the explosive rounds of the LMG. Then, like a monster, the LMG continued its travel, sweeping across the whole room like it was a damn scanner. I stayed low, staying underneath the LMG's crossfire while quietly reloading the Burya. My heart pounded like cars stuck in traffic.

The LMG's gunfire swept above me, seeming to carve away at several of the support beams like it was a damn chainsaw. Wait, support beams—

When I came to, I found myself submerged in a pile of rubble. I couldn't feel my legs. Ah hell. Oh well, always wanted to get new ones. Maybe the boss'll be kind enough to give me a loan? I am one of his best enforcers.

"Hmm…" Someone was humming an unfamiliar tune.

Looking over to the source, I found the same merc from before. Heavily armed with stacks of plate covering his body like it was a damn second skin. Huh, no wonder the Burya barely stopped him. He's armed like a damn cyberpsycho.

He reached into the cold storage where we usually kept the cyberwares we klept-ed from those rich gonks. His hands raised up to the light beside him, through the silhouette I could tell it's a small cyberware.

"Basic Kiroshi optics…" She said, throwing the Kiroshi away, "Worthless."

That's a woman??? Couldn't tell based on all that heavy-ass armor. Also bitch! That's the latest gen Kiroshi. Could sell it for at least a few thousand eddies.

"Camillo RAM Manager— worthless. Fuck being intelligent netrunner. Unga-bunga firepower is the real fun of Cyberpunk."

She continued to rummage through the bin full of klept-ed cyberware before taking out a white snake-like cyberware, a sandevistan. The pride and joy of our boss, klept-ed from some rich gonk out in suburban Santo Domingo, a—

"The fuck is this? A Dynalar Sandy? 'It's all about the touch' my ass. Fuck your slogan." The woman threw away the Dynalar Sandy, uncaring if it broke or not, even when a Dynalar Sandy can go for tens of thousands of eddies, "Are there no Apogee Sandevistan? I mean fuck, I'd even take a Falcon one!"

She slammed the lid shut on the cold storage. Rubbing her forehead, the woman reached over and pressed play on a radio before sitting down and crushing a chair.

"Fuck." She cursed, her ass on the ground, "Too much cyberware. Why wasn't this in the game?"

Before she could complain anymore, the man on the radio reported a cyberpsycho attack down in Corpo Plaza.

"Oh, right, I'm in Edgerunner. David would eventually get chipped with an 'experimental' Sandy. Appearance's the same as the Apogee, so…" The frankly insane woman trailed off. I did nothing except lie still, hoping not to catch her attention.

David

"My sweet baby boy, so smart, so talented, you're everything to me," My mom began to cry, she choked with emotions even as she was focused on the road, "I wanna give you a fighting chance in this city and a good education. It's why I put in all those extra hours, why I'm never home."

Ah… crap. The feeling that I'm a piece of shit filled every cell of my body. I turned away from her because frankly, I couldn't meet her eyes with the shame I'm feeling. "I'm… I'm sorry."

So I focused on the road ahead of the car. "Shouldn't have brought it up. Don't cry, Mom."

I couldn't handle it. Mom crying. It makes me feel like an even bigger piece of shit.

"Think I don't know how they treat you? Think they don't treat me the same way?" She said as we continued down the highway, "But that's why you gotta prove them wrong. You have to work hard and rise through the ranks. My son at Arasaka Tower top floor, I could just see it."

I could also see a black dot ahead of us. In the distance. I rubbed my eyes and wondered if I was seeing things. I wasn't. What…? As we got closer, I could see more details— the black dot was a single figure, aiming their left arm at us. They stood in the middle of the road, uncaring for any incoming traffic as if cars didn't exist and highways were for bicycles or something.

"You've got this D, you're my son—"

"Mom? Watch out!"

I could see the iron that the figure on the road ahead was carrying. A large gun the size of a chair. Strapped to their waist was a shotgun of some kind. Heavily armed like Adam fucking Smasher lite.

Mom tried to swerve out of the way, but we were sandwiched between two cars— one expensive limo and another pink van— are those Animals???

The Animal in the van carried the largest gun I've ever seen, with a belt feeding into it the largest bullets I've ever seen, each easily as long as my fucking hands. They aimed through us as if we didn't exist, the gun was primed to fire at the limo on the other side.

Before the Animals could fire, the figure struck first.

The figure ahead fired their arm cannon three times, and the pink van vanished in a blinding and deafening fireball. The shockwave of that explosion threw our car into the limo like a battering ram, the roar causing both to go out of control and flip—

"Ugh…"

When I came to, I found my ears ringing. The car was upside down, and the raging fire colored my view of the outside.

Mom… mom was right beside me. Oh thank god, the car took a lot of the damage. My hands reached up to the seatbelts. "Mom?"

She didn't respond. And fear destroyed any other thought I had, blowing out my mind until only primal instincts remained. My hands moved like they never had before, moving like snakes and reaching for her neck, to see her purse— okay, she has one.

I felt an unusually strong sensation of relief. The fear I had before receded like the tides.

"Hoo… okay, she's still alive."

That was until I heard heavy footsteps. It sounded like metal, almost, metal hitting the pavement. There was a figure outside, in view of the front window. An armed solo, from the looks of things. In my panic, I could only wonder if they had come to finish us off. I saw a surviving Animal trying to reach for a pistol in front of him, followed by a loud sound that caused me to wince. All that remained of the Animal was gore scattered across the pavement.

I stared at the pair of feet with something that resembled primal focus, like a gazelle focusing on a pack of lions nearby, trying to determine if fleeing is the best option. I followed the legs as they moved from the front of the car to the side.

A single gloved hand gripped the doorframe, denting it, and wrenched it out like it was the cap to a soda bottle, releasing a horrible noise of metal tearing like paper. The figure threw it to the other side of the road, hitting the road barrier and causing an explosion of rough noise.

The large figure squatted down, enough that I could see their face covered by a full-clad mask. Their guns clipped against the road, reminding me of swords strapped to the waists of medieval knights. Advanced sensors of all kinds were on the mask-helmet hybrid. It looked like something a Militech or Arasaka spec-ops would use.

"I believe you have something I want," The woman said, her voice distorted by the mask, "Sandevistan from the recent cyberpsycho at Corpo Plaza. Green light, Militech Apogee. I do apologize for the roughness, so here's 50,000 dollars to serve as compensation."

She did as she promised, giving me more eddies than I've seen in my entire time selling BDs.

"Now, for the Apogee."

"I don't know!" I said, "What are you talking about? I'm just a student, and my mom's an EMT. We don't have this 'Apogee'!"

The figure stood up. Is she going to leave?

"Wait!" I yelled out, I hurriedly unclipped the seat belt around my body, "Don't just leave us here! My mom needs help! She's hurt!"

The woman walked to the back doors of the car and yanked out the doors there. "Now, if I remember correctly…" She reached in and pulled out Mom's jacket. She then tore it open, either uncaring or not noticing the zipper present. "Ah, there it is."

Her fingers grasped onto something inside the jacket, and she ripped it out. It was some kind of cyberware resembling a spine, placed within a pair of plastic sheets. I furrowed my brows. Why did Mom have that inside her jacket? The heavily armed woman marveled at it. Even through the thick armor around her, I could tell she's almost giddy with excitement.

"None of the Ripperdocs in Night City have anything close to the specs you offered. Guess that's one of the upsides offered by the Game rather than real life. Perhaps gaming limitations are useful sometimes… nah, being able to chrome up as much as you want is much better."

Red manifested on the road. A red rectangle— Trauma Team. Their AV hovered, its exhaust blowing away bits of debris and tiny scraps.

"STEP AWAY FROM THE CLIENT." An announcement blared from above. The woman didn't move, as if daring the Trauma Team AV to fire, to give her a reason to use the huge-ass guns strapped to her waist and back.

Then she obliged, stepping several meters away from the limo. The AV landed, and four Trauma Team members rushed out. Two carried guns aimed at the solo, while one rushed to the crashed limo, and the final one scanned me and Mom.

"None of them are clients." The Trauma Team member who scanned me and Mom said.

"You know the drill, secure the policy holder and let's get out of here. I don't want to be next to that thing," said one of the armed Trauma Team guards. The two's gun never left the merc, their fingers on the trigger always ready to pull the instant that woman tries to approach.

"Say, how much does Trauma Team Platinum cost again?" The woman asked.

"More than you can afford, merc." One of the security guards spat out.

"..." The woman looked at the sky above, as if admiring the beautiful scenery, "As of two seconds ago, the two people in the car are now Trauma Team Platinum members for the next month. Which, if my optics are telling me, are correct…"

The security guard stayed silent for a few seconds, "...They're higher than the Gold of the client's. Fuck, we don't have enough space for two more…"

"Better get to it then." She turned to leave, but right before taking the first step, her head tilted back. I get the sense she's giving me a sideways glance. "Oh, and by the way, David, I recommend you stay away from Arasaka Tower for the foreseeable future. Just a piece of friendly, protagonist advice."

"Wait! What's your name?" I called out as the Trauma Team helped me and Mom out of the vehicle.

"Call me… Vivian."

Chapter Text

Victor Vektor

I stared into the TV screen in front of me, with such intensity I'd dare compare it with Corpo execs looking at a stock price. My bum was almost falling off the chair with how close to the edge I sat. Rhythmic vibrations coursed through my body as my feet tapped the floor. The sound of fighting emanated from the screen in front of me.

The Finals—the Watson Boxing Grand Prix—were a fight between the last members of the old guard and the new. I couldn't possibly miss it, as it was most likely to be the last fight living legend Moria would ever participate in. It was the end of an era—the era that I was in and left.

The newcomer let out a nasty right hook that took Moria right in his jaw. Moria went down, but didn't stay for long as he stood up again. His muscles bunched and flexed as the champion rushed forward like a raging bull. He narrowly missed the newcomer, slamming into the edge of the cage.

Seeing an opportunity, the newcomer let out several devastating kicks right into Moria's legs, forcing the living legend to kneel. I felt a sense of dread and anticipation. Is this it? Is this really the end of an era?

Then the buzzer on my desk rang, causing my heart to almost jump out of my mouth.

"Misty, now's not a good time."

"She's here."

"..."

Fuck. My fingers crossed themselves as I leaned on it like it's a fucking headrest. Preem. Just preem. The sound of heavy footsteps registered in my ears as she slid open the metal gates. I gave one last look at the Finals, seeing the newcomer wailing upon Moria before turning off the monitor.

I glanced at the woman who's been the bane of my existence for the past week.

Seven feet tall, clad in so much armor she has more stuff in common with a Militech Basilisk tank than anything considered 'normal'. Her gaze swept across my workshop, examining every last detail as if there were traps waiting for her. Heavy weapons were strapped to her waist and back while her hands carried a full-sized refrigerator.

"Vivian."

It wasn't the armor she wore that caused her to stand out. I've worked on mercs who were almost as heavily armored as she is. No, what's so special about her is how much bleeding-edge chrome she has. 'Chipped with so much chrome that she needs reinforced chairs lest her weight crush it flat. Had to replace some parts of my own ripper chair the first time she came in for a check-up.

"Victor!' Her tone was cheerful, opposite of mine. "I raided a Scav den recently, nabbed their chromes and thought why not donate them to the only Ripper I trust?"

The refrigerator was placed into the middle of the room. She opened the lid while I rolled my chair over. Peeking inside, I wasn't hit with a face full of cold air, telling me this was looted a while ago. Beyond that, the refrigerator held enough chrome to be easily worth thousands of eddies.

"There's a garbage Dynalar sandy inside, so only give it to someone you don't like." Vivian said while she plucked out a spine-like cyberware from the mess of metals inside.

I took it from her hands. My eyes examined the Sandevistan in front of me with care, checking every detail until I stopped at the production model and serial code. My mouth let out an audible gasp as I recoiled.

Blinking several times, I had to make sure I wasn't seeing things. I used my nails to scratch the serial code, trying to erase it only to find out that it was actually real.

"This is the latest model of Dynalar Sandevistan. The 76 series. Vivian, this alone is worth probably 20000 eddies at the very least and you're giving this and more to me for free?" I looked at her with something that resembled shock, and dare I say, appall.

She stood right next to the fridge. Her hands reached up, and with a hiss, she took off her helmet. Looking at her face, one couldn't imagine that she's chromed to the brim. She had no taboo nor any techno lines that other mercs would have. A pristine, smooth, almost albino white. It was pure natural, no RealSkinn at work.

Her icy blue eyes stared into my own. Stared so deeply it almost seemed like she was looking at my soul. Holding her helmet by her waist with one hand, the other combing through her short, white hair, Vivian chuckled, "Might as well. Not like I'm gonna touch a Dynalar. Worthless little shit that needs to charge up again if paused mid-use."

Well, I thought about it, compared to her bleeding-edge chrome she's probably right in the sense that this Dynalar would look very out of place. The sandy in my hand you could buy directly from Dynalar while the least advanced chrome she possessed— a Self-ICE— is probably still in testing in some secret lab.

Vivian reached into the fridge and took out a Sandevistan I've never seen before. The cyberware was suspended between two plastic sheets, "Anyway, I'm looking to get chipped—"

"No." I said.

Vivian's eyes snapped to me like the camera of a turret. Confused, she asked, "Why not? I'm providing you the Apogee Sandevistan since you don't have it."

I rubbed my forehead as an onset of headaches boiled over. The first time she came here she asked for my selection of different Sandy. Disappointment colored her face when I showed her all the sandy I have. Asked for something better, some 'Apogee', or even a 'Falcon'— something that I later found out as the best, most advanced Sandevistan not even available to the public. The kind only given to elite soldiers.

"How do I put this?" My hands dropped as I looked at her, "Vivian, you are the most chromed-up person I've ever met, and that's saying something as a Ripperdoc."

She said nothing as I continued, "I've seen people who are chromed-up way less than you go cyberpsycho. I mean hell, there's more metal than flesh in your body. I'm frankly surprised you haven't lost your mind yet… or need immunoblockers."

"Immunoblockers, that's the drug to treat cyberpsychosis right?"

I nodded, to which she simply smirked.

"Pfft, what a skill issue, imagine needing a drug to stave off cyberpsychosis."

I gaped at her. Skill issue? How is a limitation of the body and genetics a skill issue? Does she know of a way to mentally block the effects of cyberpsychosis? Is it a skill that can be learned and taught? Perfected with practice?

"Come on Victor, I'm fine so far aren't I? I'm coherent even with so much cyberware, so what's one more?"

I sighed. "No. Still no. You're already chrome-ed too much. If I chrome you up more that'd be me assisting in your suicide."

"Victor, please, you're the only Ripperdoc I trust with this. I'll be sure to provide you with more donations of cyberwares after each and every Scav den I find."

I rubbed my forehead once more as another onset of headaches threatened to start.

"Promise me at least you'll start using the prescribed medication."

Vivian rolled her eyes like a kid being told to do some chores, she waved me off, "Fine fine, I'll do it."

"Hey Vik! Heard from Misty you might've encountered some trouble!" Jackie called out from the outside. I could hear Misty whisper-screaming at him to come back, yet the headstrong man wasn't deterred and barged into my clinic. Misty remained outside, looking in.

It was almost impressive how quickly Vivian was able to drain the bravado out of Welles. In one instant, there stood a street kid from Heywood, full of confidence with a dream of making it big in NC. The next, the moment he laid eyes on the heavily armored solo his bombastic nature took a back seat to what was probably primal terror. He opened his mouth several times, probably getting a dry throat.

I should know, I also had the same reaction when Vivian first came to my clinic.

"Don't worry about your Ripperdoc, he's just about to insert this Sandy into my back." Vivian said while remaining rooted to her spot.

"Hermana, I think you have more than enough chrome." He then said something Spanish. He looked at her up and down. "Cristo, you're like the second-coming of Adam Smasher."

The two chatted while I looked over the specs of the 'Apogee' Sandevistan Vivian wanted to chip in. I muttered under my breath as I beheld the raw power held within this experimental sandy. These are drastically better than even the Falcon one produced by Militech, enough that even a previously fully 'ganic human could become a legend.

It reminded me of King Arthur's sword. 'Whoever pulls the sword from the stone shall rule Britain' and all that.

With this in as her operating system, combined with all of her current cyberware, Vivian would become a monster like few others. Though, I do think she's gonna get her drink in the Afterlife soon.

David Martinez

After the crash, life returned to a semblance of normalcy. Every morning I woke up, ate breakfast, went to school, endured Tanaka's bullying, and did something else other than returning home.

I stopped in front of a monolithic building. The words 'Night City MedCenter' sprawled in bold blue and red coloring. It felt like standing in front of some ancient monument. The not-so-subtle grandiosity showcasing how wealthy Trauma Team was from all the subscribers they had.

Tanaka's bullying feels… so insigificant. Memories of days prior still remained fresh on my mind. The car crash, the relief of Mom being still alive, the crushing despair of the Trauma Team ignoring Mom, but then indescribable relief again when that Solo, Vivian, displayed a kindness I've never seen from strangers.

The Trauma Team Platinum package costs 20000 eddies a month, for just one individual. And in the snap of a finger, Vivian paid for both me and Mom's subscription for a month. 40000 eddies, on top of the 50000 she paid me prior… made me wonder if she's some corpo or a famous Solo to drop so many eddies so suddenly. But she doesn't have any fame at all. There are other mercs called 'Vivian', but they're separate people to the one on that highway.

I walked underneath the metro track that led into the monolithic temple. The distant honking of car horns prevalent. After getting Mom stabilized, the Trauma Team brought us here, to their main med center in Little China.

I went in, a bouquet of fresh flowers in my hands as today marks a special day.

The reception area was full of people. It also smelled much nicer compared to the outside, where even at the feet of a powerful corporation like Trauma Team there still piled garbage collecting rot.

The reception area was split between four different sections, with each section having progressively fewer people as one ranks up the tiers of Trauma Team subscription.

Being in Platinum, I didn't even have to go line up. The receptionists came to me as I waited in a private air conditioned room provided with snacks and a view of the outside.

"David Martinez?" A nurse with a well-practiced smile asked me.

I carried the bouquet with me. The nurse led me through the sterile, quiet halls. Here was so insulating I could almost forget Night City existed. Any nurse that I walked by bowed with deep respect as if I were some 'Saka exec. Uncomfortable would be the word for it.

The nurse opened the door and I saw Mom sitting on the bed. She put down the book she had been reading moments before, and smiled as she greeted, "David!"

"Mama!" I almost lunged forward and hugged her, the bouquet of flowers in my hands slid out of my mind, completely ignored as if it didn't cost me a pretty eddie. My Mom was still alive thanks to Vivian. The generosity of a complete stranger.

After a long hug, the doctors came in. They summarized the report, "Mrs. Martinez is recovering very well after the spinal reconstruction surgery. All wounds caused by the car crash should be unnoticeable with the latest graft of RealSkinn. Overall, a clean bill of health. We here at Trauma Team International are glad to announce Mrs. Gloria Martinez is fit to be released. Although she will need to consume some medications for a week after release. Fortunately, these are discounted at a 90% rate thanks to your Platinum membership. Have a good day, Mrs. Martinez."

I showed her the flowers after the doctors left. She let out a soft smile while sounding appalled, "David… you didn't have to buy me flowers. And fresh at that! How much did this cost?"

I chuckled, "Not that much. These are old, so they're cheaper than actual fresh cut ones. Come on, Mom. Let's get out of here."

We took the NCART metro home. Compared to the sterile hallways and rooms of the MedCenter, the dirt and grime of Megabuilding H4 was much more familiar. Men and women sprawled out on the streets in front of the Megabuilding. Junkies filled the edge of the hallways as me and Mom did our best to avoid eye contact.

I couldn't help but imagine Vivian here. The armed merc would easily stride through them all like they were elements of the background, not even worthy of being noticed. Like ants.

Entering our room, I turned on the lights and heard Mom gasping.

My head snapped towards her, and then to where she was staring at. My heart almost stopped as fear blew out everything inside my mind, from wall to wall, from floor to ceiling. Emptiness was all that remained before I recalled what Arasaka Academy taught you to do if your home ever got invaded.

Observe the surroundings.

I found a giant of a man monopolizing the sofa, carrying a large gun though not as large as Vivian's LMG. Surrounding him was another equally giant of a woman, followed by other slimmer ones, less chromed like an admittedly attractive white-haired woman and another man with unnaturally long hands.

Deescalate the confrontation.

"Gloria." The giant man said, "We had a deal then you ghost on me?"

Question their motive.

"Maine, it's not what you think—"

"Oh yeah? Let's review the facts then. You took my eddies and you ghosted me. I still don't have that sandy I was promised. Long overdue."

The Sandy? Memories of Vivian taking out that cyberware from Mom's jacket came to mind.

Stall and wait for corporate backup— fuck! We don't have that.

So I did the next best thing.

"Hey!" I stepped up, "My Mom was in the hospital that entire time, recovering. And for your Sandy? Someone else klepped it."

"Oh and who're you?" The man with the long arms asked.

"David!" Mom called out, cursing in Spanish and rushing to my side. She grinned awkwardly at the large man, "Maine, look, I'm sorry I was in an accident that day. In the chaos a solo named Vivian took the Sandy I promised you. Here, 'have your eddies back."

"'Vivian'. Lucy, you know of any mercs in NC called Vivian?" The man faced the attractive woman.

"... no. No one by that name." Her words were short and to the point.

"Oof, that's a strike against your boy's story, Gloria." Maine shook his head.

Mom seemed to struggle out an explanation, but I stepped forward once more, "We have Trauma Team Platinum 'cause of her! Look into our records and you'll see how Mom was in MedCenter ever since the crash."

"'Dat true, Lucy?"

Lucy took a while to respond, allowing me to notice more details about her. She wore a sleeveless short jacket and a black leotard, showcasing all the gentle curves on her body. Bits of red make-ups were around her eyes. She had no visible weapons on her, so I wondered if she was a netrunner.

"... they do have Platinum Membership. Over three weeks remaining."

"Shit, 'guess there may be some merit to that story after all." The man's hands were on his chin, rubbing it as he pondered about something, "Alright kid, seems like you know more about this Vivian than Gloria here. Tell us everything you know about the woman. One way or another, I'm getting that sandy back."

AN: Your comments give me the motivation to churn out chapters faster.

Chapter Text

Maine

I groaned deeply as Faraday ended the call. Sitting on a sofa, I rested my forehead on my hand and began thinking about our next move.

"I need a drink," I said to no one. I reached across the coffee table and grabbed the bottle. Rather than pouring it into a shot glass I decided to take a sip from the full bottle. The bottle clinked against the table when I finished the sip.

It would've been a simple thing to klep data from Maxim Kuznetsov, a 'Saka driver and our target. All we had to do was wait for Maxim to go into a dark alley and we'll rough him up before klepping the data required. But Faraday asked for maximum discretion, which meant roughing him up wasn't possible.

Thus, we're forced to take the quiet route. Make sure he didn't know the data was klepped. Making sure everything is as it is and should be. Make sure nothin's out of the ordinary from Maxim's eyes.

A Sandevistan was perfect for this. Get him drunk, klep the datashard, copy it, and then return the shard to its owner before he realizes it's missing. But now only the Sandy is missing. Everything else is in place.

Dorio walked through the door and approached me. "Faraday again?" She asked as she sat down next to me.

I leaned back into the sofa, "Yeah, 's always fucking Faraday. He's asking us to hurry along. We gotta get that Sandy quick or else Faraday will have our ass."

Dorio sat down next to me and placed a hand on my shoulder. It was like a vacuum that sucked away my stress after dealing with that fucker Faraday. "Are you sure there's no other way to do it? Maybe go for another Sandy. Plenty of Rippers have Dynalar or Zetatech Sandy in stock."

I cringed at Dorio's mentioning of those lower quality Sandy. Those weakass Sandy fits only for civilian use. "No. They're too slow, too restricted. If any Ripper's got a Falcon one, then I'll take it. Won't take anything weaker."

Dorio looked concerned, "This… isn't just for the job, is it?"

I furrowed my brows and took another sip of the bottle. My throat burned from the alcohol.

"What do you mean?"

"Another Sandy could do the same thing as the one our mystery merc klepped, just to a lesser degree. Be honest with me, Maine, why are you so obsessed with this Sandy?"

"I have to better myself with cyberware."

"For yourself?"

I neared Dorio, "For you, for the whole crew, but mostly for you." My hands traced up her body.

"Oh, you gonk." Dorio chuckled, "But don't overdo it. You'll remove this Sandy immediately after the job, got it?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

We began to make out passionately. Our clothes are steadily falling off with each heated exchange between our mouths. Dorio's fantastic breasts were on full display. Compared to Lucy they're smaller, but the areola was much bigger, enough that I could still see them as I suckled on her tits.

I kept on sucking on them as Dorio moaned, "You always love them so much. Maybe I should get a pair of bioware breasts that produce milk."

I paused in my sucking, each of my hands squeezing her tits, "Nah baby doll, I like them fully 'ganic. Besides, bioware breast milk tastes weird."

Dorio grinned as she continued to enjoy my sucking, "And how would you know that?"

I wasn't about to mention how I had a previous input who had these same bioware breasts. Her milk tasted all kinds of weird, from orange juice to almonds to spicy; her bioware can mimic all of those tastes and even more. I couldn't wait to go down on Dorio. The Black Excalibur was already at full mast, pushing my pants to create a peak.

As I continued suckling on her tits, a notification rang.

Fuck.

[Bad-bad time right now, Lucy. Time is bad.] I answered back.

[You want the info on Vivian or no? Girl's a-a ghost, but I managed to find her trace.]

Ugh, what a killjoy.

I stopped our lovemaking and began putting on the clothes I dropped. Dorio looked confused before I explained, "Lucy's got deets on our mystery merc. Said I should come A-S-A-P."

Frustration bloomed on Dorio's face.

"Can't it wait until later?"

I replied as soon as I finished putting on the jacket, "Now you just wait here for me, baby doll. Promise, when I return, I'll give you a night you won't forget."

"Promise?"

"I'll bring something special from Maxi-mum Pleasure."

With that, I left Dorio and headed to Lucy's place. Lucy greeted me in a towel and a smoke on her lips. Shard in hand, I took it and slotted it into my neuralport without a second thought.

Lucy explained as a map of Night City appeared in my Kiroshi-provided HUD. It showed everything except the Badlands and Biotechnica's farm down south. Each of the many districts of Night City was colored corresponding with the gangs that primarily control it, places like Northside full of red Maelstrom, Japantown yellow with Tyger Claws, Santo Domingo blue with Sixth Street, The Glenn green with Valentinos, and Pacifica black with Voodoo Boys.

The contesting areas between these gang strongholds were a blend of different colors.

"This is how the gangs divided Night City amongst themselves according to the NCPD archives. And then…"

The map changed, showcasing how Maelstrom's territory shrank away from Little China and Kabuki.

"How's this 'ppose to help find our mystery merc?"

"I'm getting to that. Now you'd notice how the Maelstrom's territory decreased?"

"Yeah?"

"All that happened in a week."

"..."

What?

"I'm sorry, what? Did the NCPD do an unannounced crackdown or somethin'? Did Maelstrom poke Arasaka too hard and now they're being exterminated outright?"

"No. If any of those were to happen, it'll be front-page news on N54. NCPD investigation saw over a hundred crime scenes where Maelstrom members were completely blown apart with explosive weaponry. No survivors. Limbs were scattered all over the place. Some detectives think maybe the Tyger Claws managed to smuggle a tank into the city, but eyewitness reports say only a single individual was responsible. NCPD chalks these reports as 'mass psychosis' or even Tyger Claw intimidation tactics. I just think they're scared."

"Is Smasher back in town?" I asked. A single individual… only Smasher could do such a feat singlehandedly.

"No. He's in Myanmar. NCPD also thought Smasher's back in NC before an XBD surfaced of him slaughtering rebels in that backwater country. Probably won't be back soon, not for a while at least, as the Myanmar government is promising more and more to Arasaka."

I placed a hand on my chin.

"You think Vivian is responsible. Don't you think that's absurd?"

"Vivian's a complete ghost. No background. No history, no nothing. No one is that chromed-up and armed to the teeth could have no history." Lucy paused and took a whiff of her smoke, "Which means, either Gloria's boy is lying to us or…"

I realized what Lucy's getting at.

"You think she's got backing. Powerful backing."

Lucy took a puff of smoke and nodded, "Bingo. Of the corporate variety. I think Militech's trying to make their own Adam Smasher. And all this is simply a secret test run to see how well she compares to the actual Adam Smasher."

Militech's Adam Smasher… I recall some of the XBDs I once watched, of Adam Smasher at work. The rush he had, the joy he felt as he gunned down swathes of Arasaka's enemies with guns that fit more on tanks than in human hands, was something difficult to forget.

Adam Smasher exemplified controlled cruelty. The hound of Arasaka with a tight leash around his neck. He is The Janitor, given the dirtiest work by Emperor Saburo himself.

And yet, if what David said was correct, she paid for David and his mother's recovery with that Trauma Team Platinum. That was not cruelty. That was kindness, pure and simple. She could've easily just taken the Sandy and ignored David, Smasher might've zeroed him to eliminate eyewitnesses, but she saved them both.

"Something's not adding up. Vivian paid 40000 eddies for Gloria and David. If this 'pposed to be a secret test run, wouldn't Vivian have silenced the two? Militech doesn't forgive, nor do they forget."

Lucy shrugged, "She got corporate backing, or she just suddenly appeared one day with all that chrome on her. Either way, that doesn't dismiss what she's capable of. Take a look, I swiped this from Maelstrom's data fort."

A video player manifested in my HUD. The feed looked to be from a camera showcasing an entrance with a traffic arm and an armed Maelstrom member standing guard. Seconds later, a black Villefort van with scraped-off paint across its body would park on the opposite side of the road. The driver got out, their faces blurred, they opened up the back of the van, and took out a single sheathed katana.

"How do you know this is Vivian?" I asked.

"Just keep watching."

Then the Maelstrom died. His head fell off his body as he slumped to the ground like a puppet without strings. The sheath of the katana fell on the other side of the road.

"What just happened?"

Lucy then rewinds the clip, showcasing how the katana wielder was on the opposite side of the road and then vanished; a single frame is all that's captured of this figure's movement. Lucy then switched to a different camera, one further away.

In one frame, about half a dozen Maelstrom stood guard, then two frames of blurred motion snaking between these Maelstrom later, they all fell to the ground, headless and bleeding. The figure then swung their katana, getting rid of the blood as the entire compound was alerted to the presence of an attacker.

"That's a Sandevistan… My Sandy."

Such power, such speed!

"Yep. Your Sandy at work."

A dozen Maelstrom stood on guard on the roof of the first floor. They took up position, all hiding behind cover in the form of air conditioning or vents.

Vivian, presumably, casually strode over and walked up the stairs leading to the ceiling of the first floor as if she were in goddamn Memorial Park rather than in the middle of a firefight. Does she not care about the element of surprise? She's losing that by the second as the Maelstrom organizes itself.

Vivian was then lit up by ARs, SMGs, and pistols from the dozen or so Maelstrom.

She was pushed back, but wasn't torn apart into mince meat by that gunfire.

What…?

"It's why I said she has to have corporate backing. She's taking that gunfire like a tank." Lucy commented. "Built and dressed like a tank as well."

Then suddenly, quicker than the camera could record, three Maelstrom died. Two had their heads lopped off while a third had a piece of a broken katana blade embedded in his neck. Vivian looked at it, unmoving as if stunned at the prospect of what's probably a commercial-grade katana breaking. Kendachi Mono-Ones are always shit. Cheap, but shit for zeroing someone with chrome. Mono-Twos and Threes are The Shit if you want good swords.

Vivian's left arm split down the middle and opened up like a clam, revealing metal. A projectile launch system like mine. Artificial muscles swelled and contracted sideways, pulling the armor plates she wore further away as the launcher extended out of the arm.

In the middle of all this gunfire, Vivian launched her payload, and the resulting fireball consumed two Maelstrom. The other Maelstrom started coughing, bleeding from all pores, as they stopped firing and started panicking. What kind of gas overwhelms the target so much?

"Toxic gases." I grimaced. That doesn't look fun.

Vivian picked up a dropped AR and finished them all off.

The camera switched again, this time from the perspective of a ceiling-mounted turret. Below the turret was a run-down office. Next to the walls were filing cabinets. How much of a gonk do you have to be to use filing cabinets like it's pre-DataKrash in this day and age?

One frame, the Maelstrom were behind cover, getting ready for Vivian before the next, the door leading to this room burst open followed by a barrage of gunfire from behind what the camera on the turret could see. All the remaining Maelstrom died quicker than they could react. Another Sandy use.

The turret tried to turn around but was destroyed, catching only a glimpse of our mystery merc.

The next camera was another ceiling-mounted turret. This one was in another room full of shelves holding boxes. Are they trying to hide something? I wasn't thinking these Maelstrom were dumb anymore. More concerned now.

Vivian opened the door to this storage room and turned the turret into scrap metal.

The feed ended. No more came after.

I was left speechless.

An unsettling feeling was left in my gut. Dread filling it. This was no ordinary merc. No ordinary merc could possibly walk through gunfire without a single care in the world and survive. If it were up to me, I would've counted on Lucy and Kiwi to jam their weapons while Dorio and I gunned them down like the gonks they were. Vivian did this all on her own, without stealth. Walked through these Maelstrom mercs like they were wet paper. Using their comrades' guns to kill them.

"Maelstrom is afraid. They're pulling back patrols from their fringes. Putting more people in each patrol team. Giving them bigger iron. Do you still want to go after her?"

"..."

I paused for a long time after that. My mind was on that Sandevistan Vivian used to such devastating efficiency. An idea came to mind.

"Hey Lucy, do you still have David's number?"

AN: Your comments give me the motivation to churn out chapters faster.

Chapter Text

Vivian

I was in the process of opening a can of NiCola when my phone rang. Wait, I believe they're called 'holo' in Cyberpunk? The can hissed, bits of bubbly fluids flying out when I finally decided to answer.

[Who is this? How did you get my number?] I asked as I took a sip.

My eyes glanced ahead in front of me, at the black monolithic building that stretched high above the other skyscrapers. A monument to Arasaka's resurgence after the Unification Wars. Arasaka Tower. I was pretty sure it's even bigger than in the game.

The sound of cars driving by filled my ears. The scent of refreshing greenery filled my nose, a rarity considering how Night City is surrounded by miles upon miles of desert full of shrubs and cactus. This was the largest concentration of familiar greenery in the whole city: Corpo Plaza. Holograms of goldfish passed by over my head. I was sure they had names, but I couldn't be bothered looking them up.

[Name's Regina Jones. You're a hard woman to find, Eviscerator. Almost as if you didn't want to be found. Are you a vigilante? Did Maelstrom kill your parents so you spend all your inheritance money on the preemest cyberware to hunt them all down?]

[Eviscerator?] I asked and finished the NiCola in one gulp. Tastes like cough syrup. Resembles Coca-Cola close enough, it'll do. Now I wonder how the other flavors taste.

[That's the name the other Fixers have been calling the one responsible for Maelstrom's recent decline. You leave the scene with all Maelstrom dead and their limbs scattered all over the place. You haven't made contact with any other Fixers. I only managed to get this number through my connection with Trauma Team.]

Her words made me grin in giddiness. In the game, for the sake of 'balancing', the devs made all LMGs superbly weak. Sometimes it takes upwards of 10 rounds just to down your average Scav with little to no implants. Fuck, even with explosive rounds the Scavs still take multiple hits.

Now, though, with that balancing lifted, my sweet MA70 HB x-MOD 2 enhanced with a Firecracker mod became much more powerful. It transformed from a weakass peashooter LMG into an autocannon. A single hit could turn a Scav into a piñata of gore. I think I could collapse a house with a full mag.

[Now, are you a vigilante or a merc looking to make a name for themselves? If it's the latter, I can promise you I have the best gigs for you. Given how you obviously like heavy firepower, I can link you to the NCPD database and point you towards rogue cyberpsychos around the city. Only thing I ask is you try to leave them alive.]

A notification appeared over my Cockatrice Kiroshi-provided HUD.

<New Quest: Psycho Killer— Accept? Y/N>

I focused on the notification, and it expanded; more details popped into view.

<Notice: this is a repeatable quest until no more cyberpsycho can exist>

"…"

I crushed the can in my hands, heading over to the closest trash can. [No promises. I'll try to keep them alive.]

<Quest accepted>

Even here in the city center, bags of trash still littered the sidewalk. However, at least they didn't smell as bad as trash up at Northside. Those were utterly putrid. These were more like trash from the blue recycling boxes: empty jars, broken plates, etc.

I then opened the map. The sight of Night City from above filled my vision. Symbols of half-metal, half-bone skulls dotted the city, telling me where exactly the cyberpsychos were.

I focused on the one closest to me and—

*BANG*

I felt a sudden explosion of force on the back of my skull. It felt almost like a concussion as my ears started ringing. I took a few steps to reorient myself before activating my Sandy.

The world slowed to a crawl. People stilled into statues you'd find in museums, their faces of shock and bodies full of terror froze, many in the midst of running away from the shooter that tried to assassinate me in broad daylight.

I turned around to face my attacker, and I found myself extremely disappointed. I imagined someone who would have the audacity to assassinate me in broad daylight would be a professional. A suit-wearing, clean-cut Agent 47.

My assassin was none of that. My assassin wielded a low-caliber pistol. He was dressed in shabby clothes full of holes and smelled of sweat and drugs. With a half-open, drooling mouth, I could see how he's missing a lot of teeth. He looked like a hobo rather than an assassin.

Inside this narrow time frame, I walked forward, opposite to where the other human statues were moving, towards my attacker. I yanked the Glock-looking pistol out of the guy's grasp before grabbing his neck and hoisting him up to my eye level.

The Sandevistan ended. The sound of screaming returned to my ears.

It took a few moments for the hobo to realize what had just happened. "Whu— what?"

Probably wondering how I was still alive. Even ignoring how well armored the subdermal Chitin underneath my skin was, that low-caliber pistol had no chance of piercing through the Epimorphic Skeletal coating, not to mention the Rara Avis bone replacement that makes me so heavy I needed reinforced chairs..

"Who sent you?" I asked.

The junkie groaned and moaned. His feeble hands with broken nails scratched uselessly at my arm. "So tall…" he groaned out, "So black… promised me… neo-fentanyl…"

"Ayo?" My face scrunched up in befuddlement.

The junkie only further moaned and struggled in my grasp. With seemingly no more information, I squeezed until the junkie's neck snapped. The guy flopped to the ground like a slab of meat.

My thoughts were on what the junkie said. Is he…talking about his dealer?

Wait, that's not a racist thought is it? It shouldn't be, not racist to think that when a junkie says 'so tall, so black' and promised him fentanyl 2.0 I immediately think of his drug dealer contracting a hit in exchange for drugs.

Nah, definitely not racist. It's totally logical to think that way with the provided information.

Still though, this attempted assassination couldn't be random. Maybe Maelstrom's found me? No, that couldn't be it either. Maelstrom seems to be the type to do the killing themselves. They wouldn't put out a hit, especially one as half-assed as this.

A notification popped up in my Kiroshi-provided HUD.

<New Main Quest: Trace The Trigger— Automatically accepted>

Huh, a Main Quest? The only other time that happened so far was to deal with David's future. Either progress alongside Canon or change it entirely.

Before my thoughts could progress any further, another holo call rang. First, Regina and now another one? Nothing ever stays a secret in Night City I see.

[Who is this? How did you get my number?] I answered the call, though rather than a stranger on the other end, his voice sounded much more familiar.

[Hey! It-it's David, you saved me and my Mom the other day.] Even through the call, I could hear how nervous David was, [I got your number from Maine, and he said he got it from a Fixer. Cost a lot apparently.]

I started walking towards my van. Down a flight of stairs. A bit of joy bubbled inside me, [Oh, David, how nice to hear from you. How have you been these past days? I hope your Mom recovered fine?]

[Ye-yeah she did. She even asked me if I ever meet you again, to invite you for dinner. Though she mentioned to give her at least a day's heads-up. Said how she needed to buy ingredients to prepare the best Mexican feast you've ever tasted.]

Hearing of Mexican food caused me to grimace as terrible memories of eating an All Food XXL Burrito came to mind. I gagged on air and had to cough in order to rid myself of that horrible memory.

[Well, I'll hold you to that then. Cause the Burrito XXL they have in the vending machines tastes like shit. The flavors are all there but the texture is way off from what Chipotle offered. God, I miss Chipotle.] I bemoaned that last part. Can't believe I'll ever miss fast-casual Chipotle with their increasingly tiny portions of burrito wrap.

I heard David chuckling on the other end.

[Though I've never heard of this 'Chipotle', I can guarantee you my Mom definitely makes the best burrito in Night City. Although the XXL Burrito Turquesa comes in a far second.]

[Heh, guess I'll hold you to that. I'll visit sometime soon. Don't know when, so no need to buy the ingredients so soon.]

As I approached my van parked haphazardly next to the sidewalk, I found an NCPD officer standing next to it. He was tapping away at his tablet. Immediately, I thought of those crime scenes you'd find in the game, where the police cordoned off sections of an alleyway as they investigated the scene of a crime.

[Also, I've joined Maine's crew. They said they want to talk with you. Face to face in the parking lot of a diner.]

Hold on, why did David join Maine's crew? For what reason would he have to abandon his cushy corpo path? Did he get expelled? Did he punch his bullies? No way, his Mom's still alive. Didn't I derail canon when I saved David's Mom Winter Soldier style?

[... Vivian? You there? The connection didn't get cut, did it?]

I returned to the outside world, [Yeah, sorry, I think I got a ticket for my parking. Anyway, what's that last part you said?]

[That Maine wants to meet with you, face-to-face?]

<New Quest: Who Has Your Back?— Accept? Y/N>

[Yeah, sure, send me the coords and time. I'll meet up with your crew then and there.]

<Quest accepted>

With that, the call ended, and the NCPD officer finally noticed me. Immediately, his hands went for his pistol, not pulling it out yet, placing his hand right on the handle. Wariness in his tone, "G-Greetings, Ma'am. This your van?"

"Why yes, it is. I was taking a small look at the scenery of Corpo Plaza. The holographic fishes look exceptionally charming today. So exceptionally charming, I had to take a pause in my hunt of possible cyberpsychos to admire them."

The colors drained from the cop's face, "You uh, hunt cyberpsychos for a living?"

"Call Regina if you don't believe me," I replied and made my way past the officer to reach my van. On the black van's surface were countless scratches that peeled off paint, mainly there to remove the logos of Arasaka. Stealing a van from a megacorp like Arasaka is always the right thing to do, and easy enough since Northside is right next to Arasaka's Waterfront.

"Right, please don't park haphazardly like this in the future, Ma'am."

The police nodded and turned right around, continuing walking as if nothing had happened.

Getting into the driver's seat, I was once again glad that this van was tall enough that I didn't have to bang my head against the ceiling whenever I got in. It could also hold my weight, which is more than I could say for most other cars.

God, I hope the Rayfield supercars can hold my weight and remain capable of reaching 200 miles an hour. The 90 miles of this van is pitiful.

Right, looking over the messages, I found David had already sent me the coords and the time of the meet-up. Hmm, still some daylight left to burn before then, so let's hunt a few cyberpsychos.

At 10 pm sharp, I drove into the parking lot of this BuryGer place in Arroyo, Santo Domingo. The lot was relatively devoid of cars, all except a single family car and two other 'hey kids I got candy'-ahh-looking van. Made sense since the diner was closed, there'll be a lack of customers.

I walked out. The MA70 LMG was still in the trunks, while strapped to my waist were one Tech and one Power shotgun— the Order and the Dezerter. One's an iconic variant of the Satara and the other, of Testera. Both double-barrels.

I scanned my surroundings. The helmet placed over my head wasn't just simply armor. With 20 points in Tech, I could modify my helmet to give it Oracle Kiroshi-like abilities, namely scanning for people, cameras, explosives, and turrets. I am not letting go of Cockatrice's increase in crit rate.

The scanner highlighted people inside the two vans. One had someone in the driver's seat while the other one had only people inside the back of the van. One person was hidden behind the van, invisible from my angle if not for the scanner.

Alright, alright. Maine's prepared in case this meeting goes south.

"Vivian! My choom!"

David stepped out from the back of one of the vans. He waved at me, and I waved back. Maine stepped out of the driver's seat in the same van as David, followed by Dorio, who came out of the same exit as the young man. Both Maine and Dorio had a yellow skull in the place of a downward-facing arrow above their heads.

"David. Are you going to introduce me to your friends?" My posture was relaxed, not a single hostile bone in sight.

"Oh right, okay so this woman here is named Dorio," David introduced, "and the big man is Maine."

"Any reason in particular you decided to join up with them?"

Shouldn't I have butterflied this event away? Come on David, why would you give up a life of normalcy working at a corporation and helping your mom?

David looked embarrassed, "I… I want to be like you."

"... hah?" I froze, not at all expecting that answer. What did he mean by that? Why would you—

"You're strong, powerful, so powerful as to be able to save a mother and son with a single transfer of eddies. I want to be like that."

How precious. No, really, how rare it is to find such altruism in a place like Night City. Genuine altruism, rarer than actual, honest-to-god, organic meat I'll bet. I sighed, "And Maine's crew is your best contact?"

"It-it's just temporary! I'm gonna grow strong while learning under Maine before I split off on my own."

Maine stepped forward and placed an arm across David's shoulders, "Kid's got a good heart, which is something I can't say for you."

I didn't take it as an insult. I know plenty of NPC civilians have died in the crossfire when I jumped those Maelstrom patrols and goons. No point in denying how dirty my hands were, but then again, a legend without skeletons in their closet doesn't exist.

Seeing my silence, Maine continued, "You took the Sandevistan I pre-ordered. Now, the only reason we're not having a fight right now is I got my eddies back from Gloria."

"Let's cut to the chase, what do you want?" I stated while crossing my arms.

"I want you to join my crew. For one gig. Do it, and I'll forget this theft ever happened. I treat my crew fairly, everyone gets a fair share of the profit. Only way I operate." Maine's arms moved away from David's shoulders.

Maine wants to recruit me for a gig? Okay, I can understand that. But sadly, "See, the thing is, I'm a Solo. I don't do stealth, either go loud or go home."

"No stealth? You sure your corporate masters are fine with you flauntin' your firepower so easily?"

Corporate masters? I furrowed my eyebrows. What is he talking about? What corporate masters? Did he mean I'm somehow a puppet of Arasaka since I stole one of their vans?

Maine must've took my silence for confirmation. Wasn't helped by how he couldn't see my face with the helmet on. "You know how much of a ruckus you've stirred up in Night City? Maelstrom's scared, they're having their grunts carry larger iron, be more brutal, show public executions."

Honestly? Good. Reactive NPCs are fucking amazing. God, why the fuck did Warner Bros patent the Nemesis System? It would've been so amazing to have gangs that actively react to you murdering their members, being more heavily armed like what's going on in here.

"Now your corporate master might not care for the rest of us 'peasants' but what do you think would happen when Maelstrom catches you? They're going to set an example out of you. I don't think Militech could rescue you in time."

Militech? What the hell does Militech have to do with somehow being my 'master'?

"I don't know what you're talking about. But just know this: I only go solo."

David looked disappointed. "Come on, Vivian, join up with us. I want to show you how capable I am."

"David, your altruism is endearing but, word of advice: you're playing with fire. Be careful not to get burned." I do hope in a month's time he'll retain that altruistic outlook. I could already see how he'll fall into cynicism. Getting taken advantage of during a job, left out to die. I almost want to join Maine's crew just to be there in case he falls.

Maine then stepped forward. I noticed how Dorio, who stood silent this whole time, tensed up. "Somethin's been bothering me. Ya see, that day, on the highway, did you intend on ambushin' Gloria? 'Cause from my angle, it seems you only switched to Animals cause they were the bigger threat."

"Maine…?" David looked at him with something that resembled confusion.

"See, the way Davie here described it, you were already on the highway prior to those Animals and the corp limo appearing. If they haven't appeared, would you have aimed your arm cannon at David here?"

"Maine! What are you insinuating?"

I… can't exactly claim foreknowledge now, can I? I guess from his angle, it'll look very suspicious, as if I planned out the whole thing.

"That I think we've got ourselves a dirty, cunning corpo experiment." Maine unclipped his Crusher shotgun, aiming it at the floor. "She either planned out the attack, or she's planning to kill you and your mom, but the Animals just got in the way."

Wait, hold on, I see what's happening now. How cunning. Seems like Maine wants his Sandevistan one way or another.

However, before either of us could fire the first shot, I got an alert.

<Alert: In Combat>

I always get these whenever I spray down Maelstrom gang members. But what's strange about this one was that none of Maine's crew had a red arrow on top of their heads. So I wasn't in combat with them. Then who…?

Sounds of tire screeching reached my ears. I turned my body, half-facing Maine and half-facing the source of these sounds.

An assortment of vans and cars came into view, all possessing Maelstrom logo on their sides. They stopped at the entrance to this parking lot, blocking the exit. Dozens of Maelstrom rushed out of their car, each carrying either an AR or their own LMG. Over half possessed a skull atop their head, singling them out as 'elite enemies'.

From the van burst out— oh for fuck's sake not those guys!

Three Maelstrom gangers clad in heavy-duty exoskeletons rushed out the backs of those vans. The exoskeletons made the wielder taller than their surrounding goons. One arm ended in a large ballistic shield covered with the logo of Militech while the other arm was a cannon as large as a TV.

I cringed as memories of that shield blocking my LMG rounds came to mind. Took almost 20 minutes to kill that mini-boss.

"Oh shit, it's the Butchers!" David cried out.

That wasn't in the game. I called out as the Maelstrom readied to fire, "The what?"

"It's the final solution of Maelstrom. Their most borg-ed up members." Maine answered as he ran for cover.

AN: Your comments give me motivation. I need a lot of motivation to churn out chapters faster.

Chapter Text

David Martinez

I froze in terror.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't move. All other biological processes were halted. All except for my mind, which was split with indecision between either running away or fighting. Both were pointless actions in the face of monsters like these— wasted efforts all.

If kids in Cuba are told scary stories of Aguilar, then kids in NC are told scary stories of the Butchers.

The Butchers of Maelstrom. The elite kill squads of that cyberware-obsessed gang. With a resemblance closer to that of bears than humans, it was said that to become a Butcher, you had to replace all your flesh save for the brain with chrome. It was Maelstrom's attempt at making their own NC Bogeyman.

They were not successful. Unlike Arasaka, the cyberware that a gang had access to was piss-poor, so every Butcher inevitably lost their minds to cyberpsychosis. To control them, Maelstrom added a shutdown chip that could be triggered if a Butcher wasn't on deployment.

To be turned into a Butcher was to spend the rest of your conscious existence in carnage and battle. It was a cruel punishment given to those Maelstrom saw deserving of it. They lost their humanity and were turned into barely intelligent weapons in the truest sense of the word.

It was said that they're thrown into firefights against enemies on par with MaxTac.

My indecision stretched on and on, enough that only Vivian and I remained out in the open. Maine and Dorio took cover. I could hear Maine faintly calling my name, but my mind couldn't process it. All the gears inside my head were stilled by the impending death ahead of me. Over a dozen heavy irons were aimed at me. An escapable storm of lead was coming. One that would inevitably tear me apart like wet tissue paper.

Ah, Mom, guess I wasn't fit to be a cyberpunk after all.

I felt a rush of force. A flush of wind blew through my hair. Vivian loomed over me, carrying me in her arms like a teddy bear. Then she let go, and I dropped to the asphalt ground. I basked in the silhouette of a car, one of the only other vehicles in the parking lot.

Vivian must've used a Sandy.

"Stay here. I'll be back." Vivian said as she stood up. Her height made it so she's much taller than the family car, leaving her exposed to gunfire smacking at her sides. Some glanced off while others embedded themselves into her armor. None seemed to draw blood.

The car I hid behind vibrated as it was riddled with stray shots from Maelstrom. Fortunately, none went through the metal body.

I took out the simple Unity that Maine gave me. It felt like a water gun compared to the iron strapped on Vivian's body.

Vivian remained standing, absorbing countless rifle rounds and only dodging when a flash of white heat zipped passed where she stood.

The giant woman unclipped the modified Satara down at her waist. Her movements were slow and deliberate. She looked down at the Satara in her hands, ignoring the bullets that were filling her frame as if they didn't exist.

It was all so casual, I found myself wondering if I was dreaming. No one should be as calm as Vivian in the middle of a gun fight. The possibility of being flatlined in the next moment was too great.

Vivian finally turned to face the Maelstrom, finally giving them their deserved attention. Using only one hand, she leveled her Satara at the gang members and then started charging up the double-barrel Tech shotgun. She held the shotgun as one would a pistol, looking down its iron sight like she was in a sharpshooting contest. In her other hand, she held two fresh shotgun shells.

*VRRRRRRR—*

The shotgun hummed as arcs of electricity sparked between the magnets on the barrel's outside.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" I screamed. It was the only way she could hear me over the gunfire from the Maelstrom, "You can't flatline anyone with a shotgun at this distance—"

"Watch and learn, David." She yelled back.

Vivian stood right next to me. I blinked, and then she wasn't there anymore. She disappeared. Vanished. Next thing I knew, a flash of white passed through where she stood, causing a burst of searing heat when it hit a building nearby. I could feel my skin drying underneath the glow of that heat.

Where did she go? And was that plasma??

*Boom*

An explosion echoed out, so loud that it eclipsed all other gunfire. I snapped my head in the direction of that loud explosion, and I saw Vivian standing next to one of the exoskeleton-wearing Butchers.

*Kzzt*

An EMP pulsed out from the hit Butcher, arcs of electricity pricked at all the Maelstrom nearby and temporarily disabling their piss-poor electronics.

Such an EMP permitted a moment of silence, allowing me to fully witness the aftermath of what she did.

Vivian stood close to him, or her, I couldn't tell with the chrome they were clad in. The Butcher was missing their head. Steam poured from their necks, showcasing just how hot it was as the metal around where the Butcher's head used to be was glowing like they were fresh out of a furnace. Not even gore remained of the Butcher's head, as if it had been vaporized entirely.

And then the moment of silence ended when Vivian cracked open her double-barrel to let the used shells fly out. The other Maelstroms screamed as they recovered from the EMP, "ZERO THAT COCKSUCKER!"

As she was lit up by over a dozen guns, Vivian vanished, causing a few Maelstrom to get nailed by friendly fire.

"Fuck, she's too fast!"

"Hmm," Vivian hummed right behind me.

Huh? My head whipped around, and behind me in the cover of the family car, I saw the giant of a woman inserting shells into her Satara.

That was definitely another use of a Sandevistan. But I thought you could only use Sandevistan a certain amount each day, otherwise there'll be blowbacks… of the crippling variety. Why is she using it so liberally?

"Seems like Tech weapons are just as effective against those exoskeletons as in the game. MAN! Why didn't I use a Tech weapon against that cyberpsycho mini-boss?" Vivian bemoaned, speaking absolute nonsense. "I would've saved myself so much time."

*VRRRRRRRR—*

Before I could get a word in, Vivian started charging up her shotgun again. She aimed it at the ground beneath her. At this angle, I noticed how there's a monitor strapped to the shotgun, showcasing how much charge has been built up.

I made sure not to blink this time, and my eyes caught a flash of movement trailing from where Vivian stood. A blur that zipped around the car towards the Maelstrom elites.

*Boom*

A second explosion of force, though there wasn't an EMP this time. A Maelstrom Butcher that resembled a gorilla was blown off their feet, their dual-wielding LMGs flying out of their hands. Then Vivian vanished once more. A blur served as the only connection from where she once stood to where she is now: right beside the diner.

She charged her Satara as all the Maelstrom gang members unleashed a barrage of gunfire. Vivian didn't seem fazed as she sidestepped another searing bolt from one of those exoskeletons while tanking the other gunfire. The bolt of thermal heat smashed into a street light, causing it to bend like snapped toothpicks.

Once more, Vivian vanished from where she stood. A blur of movement later, I caught her standing right next to one of those exoskeletons. It seemed that the Butcher was ready as he unleashed a beam of blinding light and blistering heat. I was hit face-first with a wall of warm air. That beam chased away the darkness within the parking lot, and the butcher tried to swipe it across Vivian's body—

*Boom*

The Butcher's entire body was thrown back, the beam of searing heat missed Vivian and slashed the sky above. If it weren't for the heavy exoskeleton, I was certain the Butcher would be on the ground like the other Butcher. When my eyes were no longer blinded by the heat ray, I saw a sight that made me almost lose my dinner: the Butcher was missing half of their head, yet it still moved, twitched as if refusing to die. I could see how much metal has encroached upon their brain through this shotgun dissection.

Vivian finished the Butcher off by smashing the butt of her shotgun into the Butcher's exposed brain. Then she vanished once more as the other Maelstrom filled the dead exoskeleton with bullets.

Vivian appeared in front of the van that Maine hid behind. Rather than charge up her Satara, she raised her left arm. The armor plates that cover the limb unfurled like a squid moving to catch their prey. Artificial muscles swelled and contracted. Metallic interiors reflected the muzzle flashes of machine guns.

Maine has that kind of limb cyberware. It was a small grenade launcher—

My thoughts halted when Vivian unleashed five grenades in rapid succession. Those… missiles curved mid-air like Smart bullets, strategically avoiding certain Maelstrom members and targeting their vehicles instead for larger explosions—

*KABOOOM*

A massive fireball consumed the Maelstrom members. It unleashed a shockwave that slammed into the car I hid behind, shaking it and causing its alarm to go off.

Less than half a minute has passed, and Vivian has already dispatched most of the Maelstrom attackers. It was almost frightening to see how Vivian was willing to suffer permanent damage from Sandevistan overuse.

The van that was already here when Maine drove into this parking lot opened up its side, revealing Rebecca of all people. What? Maine told me Rebecca wasn't here tonight, he said she was doing a solo gig right now.

Rebecca grinned as she, her voice barely perceivable over the car alarm right next to my ears, yelled, "Nah, fuck that Maine, I wanna join in on the fun!"

She whipped out a heavy machine gun connected to the van and started unloading high-caliber rounds into the surviving Maelstrom members. The deafening sound of the machine gun overshadowed the blaring of the car alarm next to me.

The last remaining exoskeleton turned its shield towards tanking the HMG gunfire while its cannon started to heat up, so much so that I could feel it way out here. The shield tanked the gunfire, not fully, as its surface started to bubble with dents.

"Oh no you don't! That's my sister, only I get to kill her!" Pilar yelled out as in between each of his fingers glimmered a knife. His arms cracked like a whip as they lashed out, throwing those knives with such speed that they embedded themselves hilt-deep into the metal of the exoskeleton.

None managed to hit any vital portion of the exoskeleton. A beam of blinding radiance and blistering heat shot out from the cannon, burning the air above where I hid. That ray of heat moved, cutting across the parking lot, about to slice right through where Rebecca's machine gun nest sat.

*Boom*

The heat ray blinked, stuttering as if clogged before thinning until it disappeared entirely. Vivian stood behind the Butcher, an arm outstretched holding a modified Testera Power shotgun that blew out the exposed connections from the heat cannon to its battery. Liquid fire dripped from the severed tubes, burning the asphalt the parking lot was made out of, setting aflame the Butcher within the exoskeleton.

Vivian lowered her shotgun, seemingly content with letting the Butcher burn to death, the exoskeleton serving as their tomb.

Vivian looked over to where Maine hid behind a van. She said something, but I couldn't hear it with the car alarm blaring right next to me.

"What did you guys say?" I yelled out and got out of my cover, running away from the car and towards the group.

Maine screamed on the top of his lungs, "NOW LUCY, KIWI!"

"Huh?" I paused in my step. Next thing I knew, there was a burst of electricity. Vivian groaned, stepping back slowly like a boxer who received a concussion during a match.

"Aww, Maine, do we have to?" Rebecca asked, "She's so nice! Plus, look at the guns on her body! Those shotguns are so preem!"

"We continue with the plan," Maine said. "Vivian has been EMP-ed; now Lucy just needs to upload a System Collapse."

"Maine…?" I called out, "What are you doing?"

"Gettin' that Sandy I wanted. She may be physically powerful, but how strong's her ICE? I doubt it can withstand the assault by two netrunners."

Oh. So I was bait.

The world around me fell apart, sinking into an abyss of darkness where there exists only my mind. Not even the constant sound of that car alarm persists within this void. All Maine saw in me was a lure used to bait out Vivian, where they'll then ambush her with attacks on both the physical and the digital level.

I raised my Unity at Maine. Dorio responded by aiming her Masamune AR at me. I couldn't care less. My mouth carved an ugly scowl across my face, "You lied to me, Maine! You promised you won't harm Vivian! That was my deal upon joining your crew!"

"Even if she planned the whole thing with your Mom?" Maine asked as he put a hand on Dorio's Masamune, lowering it.

"She saved us, you gonk! Ain't no way she planned this whole thing. She paid Trauma Team Platinum for me and my Mom!" I yelled out, my hands shaking uncontrollably.

Be still damn it! I wanted to yell at my hands.

"I need her Sandy, David. It's the only way I could complete the gig that Faraday gave us."

"So you're going to turn into a Scav?!"

Maine began walking towards me, slowly with his hands out in the open, showing how he wielded no weapons, "Do you have any idea how much Faraday's paying us for this gig? More than what Gloria would make in over a decade of non-stop work. I'll give her a Dynalar Sandy for free after."

"Like… Hell… You are—!" Vivian struggled out.

[Quickhack failed— Kiwi's knocked out— she's got some ridiculous ICE] Lucy screamed into each of our holos.

Quicker than anyone could react, Vivian swiped her fist and smashed into Dorio's skull, sending her careening into the asphalt ground. "Fuck Dynalar Sandy."

"Dorio!" Maine looked at his fallen partner before quickly switching to Vivian. He raised his Crusher shotgun, but Vivian vanished before he could shoot.

"ARGH!" Vivian appeared behind Maine and clapped the sides of his head, smacking both his ears for a stun. The solo then finished Maine with a punch to the back of his head, and it was lights out for Maine.

Rebecca and Pilar tried to muster a response, but Vivian turned into a blur of movement that ended with her looming over Rebecca. All of Pilar's knives in one hand, while she crushed the barrel of the van-strapped HMG with the other, rendering it useless.

"Tell you what, I like you guys. Even after this attempt at jumping me, I still like you guys. So here's what's going to happen." Vivian pointed at Rebecca, "You will give me your iconic shotgun, and I'll forget this ever happened. Alongside that, I'll even let you call me if you need help during a firefight or something."

Rebecca looked up to the woman who towered over her like a skyscraper.

"Hell no! You're not taking Guts!"

"Sister, just listen to the big, scary lady—"

"No! Fuck you Pilar! No one is taking away my Guts!" Rebecca raised a middle finger to Pilar.

"Well fuck you Becca I wanna live!" Pilar answered by raising both his middle fingers at Rebecca.

Solomon Reed

I stood on the roof of a motel nearby where the fighting was going on— far enough that no one would notice me, yet close enough that I could get a good view of what was happening with an analog binocular.

I dropped the binoculars and had to take in a breath I didn't know I'd been holding this whole time.

In the distance, sirens echoed through the night. I strode over to the motel's antenna and removed the out-of-place electronics attached to the SoftSys-branded box. It was a wide-spectrum jammer that halted calls to the police.

Disguised as a phone, I slipped the jammer into my pocket before making my way down from the roof into my car. I observed my surroundings, finding a lack of potential witnesses. With the commotion nearby, it wasn't surprising that no one wanted to come out of their home for fear of the danger spilling into their neighborhood, and the NCPD didn't want to expend resources unless specifically called upon.

I drove out of the motel's parking lot. Almost the instant my wheels hit the road, a holo ranged. I didn't pause while driving; I only checked out the relay station in my car to ensure the connection was secure.

[Report, Agent Reed.]

[Operation Proxy Hit has failed.] I replied to Langley, [Target has completely annihilated the Maelstrom hit squad. Target appears to remain combat-capable. I can further confirm that Target is in possession of multiple highly dangerous cyberware. I recommend we upgrade her FIA Combat Rating to Hyper Lethal.]

[Hyper Lethal? Reed, you know the reason why there are only two other active Hyper Lethals?]

I turned the corner and drove out of Santo Domingo into the Glenn. [Yes, because engagement with Hyper Lethals during an operation is to be avoided at all cost. Should engagement be unavoidable, Agents are instructed to draft their wills and settle all affairs prior to deployment. No one wants to join an operation containing a Hyper Lethal.]

[Exactly, so you should know why she's remaining as Lethal. We can ill-afford the Behavioral Imprint-synced Faceplate to remain out of our control. We need to either destroy it or get it back.]

The Faceplate, otherwise called the TNRTX10.0, is the golden child of FIA spytech. If Arasaka or the Europeans somehow got access to this tech, that would prove to be most disastrous to the national security of the New United States. Word from Langley was they're combing through the entire Federal Intelligence Agency with a microscope, searching for the possible leak responsible for letting some no-name somehow acquire the secret tech.

I spoke frankly through the secure holo. [Then I recommend we send a battalion after her. Anything less will end up the same as Operation Proxy Hit.]

AN: I wonder how many of you guys would know where I got this plot idea from. The faceplate to be exact. Give you all a hint: it's from the Killing Moon quest.

Hmm, I wonder who the two active Hyper Lethals could be?

Anyway, your comments give me motivation, I need a lot of motivation to write out chapters faster.