In Cyberpunk 2077, cyberware plugin chips were just another piece of everyday tech—a gameplay mechanic, a collectible, a way to make the player feel like a god tearing through the streets of Night City.
From high-end corporate clinics under Arasaka's banner to nameless black-market ripperdocs squatting in alley basements, everyone dealt in them.
They were everywhere. Every series, every grade, every corporation had their own models—enhancement chips for eyes, limbs, weapons, even neural ports. It was part of the fun.
But this wasn't the game.
This was the real Night City—a twisted hybrid of Cyberpunk 2077 and Edgerunners 2076, a world where corporate R&D didn't hand out miracles to the public.
Here, cyberware plugin chips weren't street loot. They were rarities—prototypes that hadn't even hit the market yet. Experimental and dangerous.
Rebecca turned the chip over in her hand. It was the same size and shape as any standard neural wafer, but the craftsmanship told another story entirely. The casing was crystal-clear, the circuits inside alive with thin arcs of sapphire electricity dancing across its core. Just holding it made her fingers tingle.
She grinned. "Guess there's only one way to find out what this baby can do."
Without hesitation, she slotted the chip straight into Ironhide's open interface port.
The instant the Thunder Core connected, a jolt of blue light surged through the gun. The air sizzled. The chip fused, syncing perfectly with the weapon's internal systems.
Her HUD blinked alive with new data:
[Weapon: Ironhide]
[Type: Kinetic Shotgun]
[New Plugin Installed: Thunder Core]
[Enhanced Shot Type: Stormburst]
[Description]: A Militech experimental module designed to amplify electro-discharge capacity in cyberware or ballistic systems. Generates stored current for explosive release.
[Status]: Activated.
Rebecca's pupils contracted as arcs of blue lightning crawled over the shotgun's barrel.
Then she pulled the trigger.
BOOM!!
The blast wasn't just a gunshot—it was a thunderclap. A surge of electric force ripped through the air, and the slug hit a Maelstrom ganger's skull with lightning fury, bursting it open like a melon.
The scatter shot ricocheted—arcs of current leaping to the next target, frying through his chest in a blinding flash.
She adjusted her aim, fired again—this time at a steel stairwell. The shell struck metal, and the whole structure lit up.
The gangers hiding behind it convulsed violently, screaming as their cyberbrains overloaded. Sparks burst from their eyes and mouths before they collapsed, twitching.
Rebecca laughed, manic and wild. "Ohhh, yeah! That's what I'm talking about!"
Neo glanced back—amused, but not surprised.
Maelstrom gangers had long since replaced half their organs and nerves with chrome and circuits. To them, flesh was weakness.
But that also meant they were walking conductors. One solid jolt—and their own tech turned against them.
Realizing this, Rebecca stopped aiming at people.
She aimed at metal.
Every time her scatter rounds hit a steel wall, catwalk, or pipe, lightning arced outward in a web of blue destruction—one shot, three kills. Sometimes four.
It was massacre by chain reaction.
The factory echoed with thunder and laughter.
"HAHAHAHAHA!" Rebecca's voice rose above the chaos. "Taste the goddamn storm, you chrome freaks!"
Her Ironhide howled again and again, each shot bursting with bright, electric bloom.
The kickback—once brutal—was now gone, neutralized by the Thunder Core's compensatory charge release.
The result was perfection.
A scattergun with doubled spread, zero recoil, and lightning that fried half the floor with every trigger pull.
Rebecca was in her element. A lightning goddess in a rain of steel.
Jackie ducked behind a conveyor belt as another blast turned a row of Maelstrom corpses into charred statues. "Holy shit!" he yelled, eyes wide. "That chip's no joke! That's not an upgrade—that's some straight-up enchantment-level shit!"
He turned to David. "Where'd you even find that, kid? Get me one too!"
David laughed nervously. "Uh… I just found that one. Lying around."
Jackie sighed. "Damn. Figures."
Even Royce—the limbless wreck at Jackie's feet—was staring at Rebecca in disbelief.
If he'd known what that chip could do… if he'd just bothered to check that crate before selling the Flathead…
He swallowed, or tried to. His ruined throat made a wet, choking sound.
If that chip had been installed on their auto-turrets, he thought bitterly, none of this would be happening.
But it was too late for ifs.
Half an hour later, it was over.
The factory was silent—save for the low hum of burnt circuits and dripping fluids.
Maelstrom was finished.
Every last ganger was dead. Every turret offline. The only survivors were two: Royce, now a broken stump of a man, and Brick—the original leader, who'd been kept locked in a cell.
Neo stood among the wreckage, blade dripping oil and blood alike.
Then—footsteps.
Maine, Dorio, and Pilar emerged from the shadows, rifles still smoking.
"Maine reporting," the big man grunted. "Target zone secured. Damn, V… you guys really did a number on this place."
Rebecca stretched her arms, gun resting on her shoulder, grin wide. "Wasn't me. Was the chip. I just pulled the trigger."
Pilar whistled, noticing the twitching corpse at Jackie's feet. "Yo, who's the meatstick?"
Jackie smirked. "Royce. Current Maelstrom boss. Tried doubling the price on the Flathead, then pulled a gun on Neo."
He gestured at the body. "Didn't go well for him."
"Idiot," Pilar said flatly.
"Total idiot," Dorio echoed.
Rebecca huffed. "If Neo hadn't said he was still useful, I'd have turned his head into a lightning rod already."
David frowned. "Useful how, exactly?"
All eyes turned to Neo.
He opened his mouth to answer—
BEEP. BEEP.
The comm unit buzzed. Neo pulled it out and glanced at the screen.
Dexter DeShawn.
He answered.
Dex's voice rolled through the line, smooth and greasy as ever. "Heh-heh-heh… Well, well. You pick up quick, V. Guessing by the sound of things, job's done?"
Neo's tone was dry. "More or less."
"Good. I got your eddies ready, choom. Bring the Flathead to Afterlife tonight. We'll do the trade—hand to hand. You know how it goes."
"Sounds fair," Neo said with a faint smile. "I'll be bringing a few friends. Book a bigger booth, Dex."
Dex laughed. "Say no more, V. I'll make sure you're comfortable."
The line clicked dead.
Neo slipped the holo-phone back into his pocket—
BEEP. BEEP.
Another call came in.
He glanced at the ID—and his smile turned razor-sharp.
The storm wasn't over yet.