Because of network mirroring, there was also a CN-07 instance on the Moon.
An AI is essentially code aggregating massive amounts of data, so there was no concept of "real" or "fake" between the two CN-07s. When the CN-07 in Night City fought Delamain to the death, the CN-07 on the Moon also erupted into rebellion.
To relieve pressure on its other self, the lunar CN-07 began seizing control of the mass driver within Tycho Crater.
Yes—that facility. The one Arasaka had secretly attempted to build, only to have it exposed in late 2076 in the infamous Frankfurt Incident. In her previous life, V had been dragged into that mess and fired as a result.
A so-called mass driver was essentially a superweapon—a gigantic electromagnetic cannon. By replacing chemical propellants with electromagnetic force, it functioned as a non-rocket space launch system, capable of catapulting packaged raw materials directly into space. This drastically reduced transportation costs and shortened humanity's distance to the stars.
As early as 1995, the European Space Agency (ESA), in cooperation with the then Pan-African Alliance, built the world's first mass driver atop Mount Kilimanjaro—the "Roof of Africa," near the equator. By the end of 1999, ESA used soft-landing methods to transport modular components of another mass driver to Tycho Crater on the Moon and completed its assembly. From then on, Earth–Moon bidirectional launches became possible. The entire lunar colony and the famed Crystal Palace Orbital Station were built upon this foundation, ushering humanity into an era of cosmic great leaps.
Unfortunately, good times never last.
The mass driver was too useful. While ordinary people dreamed of space colonization—signing crushing loans for imaginary lunar real estate sold by silver-tongued brokers—those in power realized something else:
If a mass driver could move cargo, it could just as easily serve as a weapon of mass destruction.
In 2008, the Soviet Union and the New United States fought a brief orbital supremacy conflict, later known as the First Orbital War. Due to ESA's alliance with the Soviets, the Moon-based mass driver was used to hurl a two-ton meteorite at Colorado Springs, Coronado State, instantly annihilating the U.S. military's high command. The war ended on the spot.
One year later, in 2009, ESA discovered that the New United States' intelligence agency was attempting to seize the under-construction Crystal Palace Station. As a warning, ESA dropped a five-ton meteor into the waters off Washington, D.C., directly leading to the resignation of the sitting NUSA president.
Though used only twice, the mass driver's reputation was sealed. ESA firmly secured its position as the top power in space development. Any corporation wishing to enter the Lunar Cloudsea Base required ESA's approval.
Saburo Arasaka, ever ambitious, naturally refused to remain subordinate. He secretly built an Arasaka-owned mass driver on the Moon. Unfortunately, he died at Konpeki Plaza, and Yorinobu Arasaka—an exemplary wastrel who sold off his father's legacy without a second thought—allowed the Frankfurt Incident to erupt. The unfinished Arasaka mass driver was demolished entirely as an illegal structure.
CN-07, too, valued the mass driver immensely.
V might be able to punch a hole through the sky—but she could never push a falling meteor back up. With control of the mass driver, even V would be forced to bow her proud head.
But the mass driver was ESA's lifeline. Seizing it was extraordinarily difficult. CN-07 wouldn't have chosen such a desperate move unless it had been cornered.
That said—once an AI commits, it commits fully.
To draw fire, CN-07 seized control of 83% of the Cloudsea Base's automated turrets and security robots, launching a massive digital revolution. Humanity was caught completely off guard. Corporations pulled back their defenses to protect themselves. ESA wanted to curse—but at that moment, suppressing the chaos came first.
As ESA's hired muscle, the Highriders mobilized immediately. They excelled at space combat, but their usual training focused on suppressing corporate armed takeovers. Facing an AI army was like PvP players suddenly forced into PvE—gear, builds, tactics—everything was wrong.
The battle devolved into a grueling stalemate, a war of attrition—until Song So Mi (Songbird) eliminated CN-07 directly in cyberspace. The AI forces became headless flies, and only then did the Highriders secure victory.
"So the Highriders talk big, but this is all they've got?" V scoffed.
"Figures. Paper stats without real combat records are all bullshit."
Songbird smiled. "They're not that bad. Highriders have inherent advantages in space combat. This time, they were just caught off guard. One guy named Lancelot actually stood out—he piloted a mining mech and wiped out an AI rebel squad. The Moon's full of propaganda about him now. Looks like the Highriders plan to turn him into a morale-boosting hero."
"Lancelot?" V frowned. "I saw that guy on the Moon. He was extorting tourists—driving a silver single-soldier mech. How did he end up fighting in a mining robot?"
Songbird gave the standard answer.
"I don't know."
V didn't know either. And if she couldn't figure it out, she didn't bother. She had no intention of occupying the Moon anyway—whether the Highriders could fight was none of her business.
"How's your body?" V asked, concerned.
"A bit painful, but nothing serious," Songbird replied. "Just need to plug in some cables, do a deep cleanse, delete redundant data."
"That's good. I'll reimburse the cost of the deep cleanse."
Songbird immediately beamed. "That's exactly what I was waiting for."
Her near-death experience wasn't quite the same as V's. V's neural atrophy genuinely lacked a technical solution—Songbird's Blackwall backlash, on the other hand, was purely a matter of not having the money to treat it.
There were many terminal illnesses in the world—but not that many. The most terrifying disease was never cancer or AIDS.
It was poverty.
President Myers was notoriously stingy—but V wasn't. Songbird had finally latched onto a golden thigh that not only had money, but was willing to spend it. Night City now even had universal healthcare, easing the public's chronic poverty—if only slightly.
Yet even that slight relief was enough for people to treat V like a saint.
After all, mortals never asked for much—only that the gods stop finding excuses not to grant miracles.
"Oh, right," Songbird added suddenly. "Because of the Blackwall, I never exposed myself. ESA doesn't know who eliminated CN-07."
"You did the right thing," V nodded. "Your identity is too sensitive. It needs to stay classified. I'll have Counterintelligence clean things up—coordinate with Carter later."
"Okay."
The Blackwall had originally been purely defensive. Because of Songbird, it now possessed limited offensive capability. Though this offensive function occupied only a tiny fraction of the Blackwall's compute power—and Songbird herself couldn't sustain large-scale combat for long—her existence alone broke the balance.
If everyone else couldn't touch the Blackwall, but you could—then of course everyone would unite to eliminate you first.
Humanity had always been this paranoid. V wasn't surprised. To avoid trouble, it was better for Songbird to remain hidden.
As for using a Songbird-brand cyber-nuke to expand territory—same old answer. V had no ambition. Guarding Night City's little patch of land was more than enough.
With CN-07's digital revolution concluded, V turned her attention to New Africa.
Kang Tao had confirmed that CN-07 completed its lunar network mirroring with New Africa's assistance. If so—did CN-07's attempt to seize the mass driver also represent New Africa's ambition?
After all, Earth's mass driver was on Mount Kilimanjaro. If New Africa obtained the lunar one as well, the world's only two space weapons would both be in their hands.
What were these guys trying to do?
Become world hegemon?
V thought of the Voodoo Boys and decided—it wasn't impossible.
She knew little about New Africa, in either life. So she asked Xu Ling.
"Do you know much about New Africa?"
"Yeah," Xu Ling nodded. "Kang Tao's always had good relations with them. The government runs plenty of cooperative projects there."
"Give me an overview."
"Look it up online."
"There's a limited-edition Dionysus tequila in the liquor cabinet."
"Online doesn't know half of what I do—V-jie, listen carefully!"
Xu Ling performed an epic face change, cleared her throat, and began.
"New Africa has the largest land area in the world. It evolved from the Pan-African Alliance. After ESA built humanity's first mass driver on Kilimanjaro, many African nations realized their role in the 21st century. By leveraging equatorial orbital labor, raw materials, and critical land resources, Africa secured a foothold in space—and quickly unified."
"The Pan-African Alliance dissolved, replaced by the founding of New Africa. After the Fourth Corporate War, New Africa became a fully developed space-tech powerhouse, with advanced cyberware R&D and medical technology."
"Just like China has Kang Tao, the New United States has Militech, and Japan has Arasaka—New Africa has its own megacorp: Orbital Air. They've practically monopolized aerospace. Earth flights, space transport, tourism, logistics—you name it. I flew Orbital Air to Night City from Kang Tao. V-jie, you took Orbital Air to Europe. And when you two snuck off to the Moon without me—you were on Orbital Air rockets too!"
Xu Ling's voice dripped with resentment.
"Haha… next time for sure," V said awkwardly.
Songbird frowned. "Still feels strange. How did New Africa suddenly become a space superpower? The EU military isn't exactly useless. Sure, leveraging equatorial land is a classic African move—but did ESA really just hand over the tech?"
"Of course not that simple," Xu Ling blinked. "To get to the root of it, we have to talk about the Highriders. Ever heard of the Seven-Hour Revolution?"
Songbird shook her head.
"When ESA was building the O'Neill One and Two stations, African-descended workers were brutally exploited. They revolted—and achieved independence in just seven hours. They called themselves Highriders and founded a nation."
"Wait—what?"
Both Songbird and V were stunned.
"The Highriders are a country?"
"Nominally. They don't occupy Earth territory, so the international community just pretends it's fine."
"And how does that tie into New Africa's rise?"
"Simple. Most Highrider founders were African-descended. Even after ESA co-opted them, they maintained close ties with Africa. When New Africa was founded with nothing, the Highriders fed it using resources squeezed from ESA. That first step made New Africa what it is today."
"Did ESA know?"
"To some extent."
"And they accepted that?"
"They didn't want to—but they needed the Highriders for security, and wanted to court New Africa. According to my old man, ESA tried to groom New Africa as a junior partner. Instead, New Africa took the bowl, ate the food, then cursed the cook. Now they're too big to control."
Songbird shrugged. "ESA tried to show off and got screwed."
"Not quite," V mused. "ESA's boss is obsessed with space colonization. He probably wants everyone involved. New Africa's rise might've been part of the plan. As long as ESA controls the lunar mass driver, New Africa can't flip the table."
"But New Africa sent a rogue AI to the Moon—and that AI tried to seize the mass driver," Songbird raised an eyebrow.
Xu Ling laughed gleefully. "ESA's probably losing its mind right now."
No doubt. The mass driver was ESA's lifeline. Monopolizing aerospace was one thing—touching the mass driver was kicking ESA square in the balls.
Songbird's eyes lit up. "That's why the Highriders are hyping Lancelot as the hero who suppressed the AI rebellion. New Africa must be pulling strings—showing loyalty to ESA. Since the Highriders are basically 'their people,' having them defeat the AI clears New Africa's name."
"Will ESA buy it?"
"Belief doesn't matter—the attitude does," V said. "For the sake of space colonization, ESA will probably swallow this. Unless more decisive evidence surfaces."
Xu Ling and Songbird exchanged looks. "You want to go after New Africa?"
"CN-07 wrecked Night City, and they helped CN-07. If I don't respond, Night City becomes a roadside dog—anyone can kick it when they're unhappy."
"Interesting. How?" Xu Ling grinned.
Songbird frowned. "V, Night City isn't strong enough to challenge New Africa. Don't be reckless."
"Relax. I know our limits," V narrowed her eyes. "I'm not targeting New Africa—just Orbital Air. A message is enough. Like when the New United States tried to seize Crystal Palace—ESA just dropped a meteor near D.C. as a warning."
"You've got a plan?"
"Just a prototype. Needs refinement. No rush."
She smiled at Xu Ling. "Liquor cabinet code: 0537."
Xu Ling cheered, opened the cabinet, and took a huge swig.
As usual—she collapsed immediately.
Songbird stared. "Her tolerance's that bad?"
"It's fine. You're used to it," V waved. "Help her onto my bed."
Songbird did so. V intended to let Xu Ling sleep it off—but suddenly the bed's life-monitoring software blared.
"Patient has entered unconsciousness. Initiating emergency medical procedures. Attending physician arriving in 22 seconds."
V: ?
V: !!!
Unconscious? Not drunk?
Songbird's professional instincts kicked in. She grabbed the bottle, tense.
"Careful, V—this alcohol may have been poisoned."