NOTE FROM SYBERWARE:
Hey what's up my favorite chooms. Its been a while. Thank you to everyone for still being here with me on the page... I can't really express enough to you how much that means to me. Whether we've ever communicated with each other or not... your presence is felt here... and more than appreciated.
This upcoming chapter you are about to read contains a lot of narrative points and material that i've held onto in my head... some for over a year now... waiting for the right time to bring em to the book. If your'e interested in enjoying the chapter to its fullest extent then I highly recommend queing up the song that i've included in this chapter and playing it when prompted to.
I hold this chapter close to my heart for a lot of different reasons i'm sure some of you after reading it may share. At over 9000 words, this is by far the biggest chapter i've ever written. While i still have you here, connected to my mind via this page we're sharing, I'd just like to let you know that writing this book... delving into this world with these characters.. has changed my life in ways I could've never guessed.
As always... I would love to hear from you. Yes, you. The person who's made it this far in this journey alongside me. Your thoughts have more value to me than you may care to know. Criticisms, feedback, and praise alike. I'd love to hear from you sometime. No need to be shy.
Thank you again... as always choombas. I hope you enjoy this one. Take Care. -Sy
The brittle cold of an early Sunday morning has settled in after a frantic late night. With the streets around Audrey's clinic completely dead, tensions are high amongst the crew loitering around outside with angst. The bright, beaming light above Audrey's ripperdoc chair illuminates Carter's unconscious body along with the various pools of bright red blood everywhere.
Audrey sits in her office chair alongside him in a trance in her stylish, night out on the town outfit… carrying an aesthetic of allure and distinction. Covered in blood, she stares down with her hands folded and up to her lips. The mellow whirs and buzzes of her medical equipment chirp alongside the slow, consistent beep of the heart monitor connected to Carter. The rhythm of Audrey's slow breathing combines with the pace of the equipment while she sits there in tranced, deep thought as she recalls a not too distant memory:
BugBear jacked into the scav runner with an intense look of anger on her face continues to pin her down by her throat as she squirms and squeaks in uncontrollable pain. Audrey and Zaunya, holding her arms down, glance at each other before glancing over at Brian and Carter leave the room. After a short ordeal, BugBear rips the data from her and makes for the exit with the other ladies following behind her...
Audrey stops mid stride as the other girls continue. Zaunya now in the hallway hears the sound of the door to the runner's room sliding closed... causing her to gasp and quickly turn around.
She catches Audrey's eyes briefly…
She sees a look in them shes unfamiliar with... hitting Zaunya with a wave of unexpected discomfort... a look in Audrey's eyes that Brian would now surely recognize.
Zaunya races back to the door as it finishes sliding closed, forcing them to break eye contact.
"Audrey?!…. Audrey!" Zaunya pleads with several light bangs on the closed door… she looks down with nervous guilt as she gives up… taking a final look at the worn, heavily grime stained door before turning to catch up with the rest of the crew.
The scav's netrunner slowly comes too... the ware on her body from BugBear's rip has taken a serious toll... leaving her light headed and sore throughout her entire body. She gags a couple of times before leaning over the chair and throwing up badly... splattering on the concrete.
After a coughing fit, she tries to gather herself... looking over to see Audrey with her back toward her... staring at 2 massive colorful, dirty piles of discarded clothing gathered overtime from their various rips. One being a pile of shoes nearly as tall as she is and well on its way to touching that tattered Hotel Pistis Sophia ceiling.
She reaches over and opens the drawer of a nearby office desk... it has blue light trying to escape it… revealing a littered stack of deaded S.O.S tracking shards. Some caked with blood and others cracked with the feintest flicker of pulsing light. The sight of the shards causes Audrey to tilt her head slightly... a squint of disgust as the runner watches her from behind with fear in her eyes... still heavily dazed. Audrey speaks in a dead tone.
"Can I tell you something that's... always bothered me about scavs?" Audrey asks, still staring at the shards in the drawer before closing it. "The way you guys rip implants is… just so…. lazy... so sloppy. Looks intentional even sometimes... almost like… you guys like to just make people hurt." She says while turning to face her and crossing her arms before looking down and resting against the desk. "Seen a lot of the work over the years… can even see the experience in it… location of sensitive nerve endings… titrated formaldehyde use… cyberware tolerance threshold determination... concentrated homebrewed bleach concoctions that eat the ganic flesh RIGHT off the chrome."
The runner, closes her eyes tight breathing heavy... feeling the remnants of pain from BugBear's wrath.
"...Gotta be brutal being carved into like that….." Audrey mutters while looking away.
A long pause settles in... allowing the dead silence to take over the hollowed-out halls.
"….You ever wonder…. how the corps do it?" She mutters calmly... ominous as she comes off the desk and begins walking toward her with her arms still crossed.. looking down with no eye contact.
"You see… the corps have no need to be lazy. Thoroughly accounted trial and error... vapid experimentation has given them countless… years of... refinement-" Audrey pulls her knife as the sleek sound of the sharpened blade licks the holster... the runner gasps in fear. "- precision… experience." She steps ever closer. "Every. Single. Drop. Catalogued and inventoried. Every touch… every metaphysical sensation... studied and understood. Carefully measured... re-measured tolerance thresholds... optimizing the amount of pain possible and not possible. Hours upon hours of error assessment… efficiency recommendations." Audrey concludes... standing over her still with no eye contact.
"I just wanna know… how many of em did you do yourself?" She asks, looking up and locking eyes with the panicked woman… the runner jolts... eyes wide open in fear and guilt.. searching for the quickest excuse. Before she can open her mouth, Audrey covers it firmly with the palm of her hand causing the runner to squeal in panic and start to squirm.
"I guess… us…. we…. we're not really so different after all." She whispers.
Audrey jams the knife into one of the runner's neuroports... both of the ladie's eyes open wide... the runner lets out a blood curdling, muffled scream. Audrey continues by forcefully dragging the knife before slowly twisting it with a carefully refined technique... the runner's eyes roll to the back of her head... she twitches uncontrollably. Small, smoky sparks alongside blood begins to shoot out of the puncture point onto Audrey's wrist and forearm.
"I know..." Audrey whispers with eyebrows raised in pity... her mouth open while looking deep into the eyes.
"I know..." She whispers again before yanking the knife out and raising it to stab her again.. Ending the flashback.
Carter's soft rambling fades in at the end of a sentence complimenting Audrey's medical work on his gunshot wound. He notices her still in a trance.
"Audrey..?" He softly repeats several times before she finally snaps out of it... she looks over at him.
Brian stood outside in the alleyway caked in gloomy, early morning cold has Netaniel stood right in front of him. Condensation billows out of their mouths with each breath. Netty, with a lot on his mind is unaware of why Brian has called him over... but at this point... he just doesn't really care much. The circumstances of where hes currently at in life with everything that's going on just has his mind elsewhere… numbing.
"Alright.." Brian mutters in exhale. He takes two fingers and points at his own eyes. "Try to quickhack me."
Netaniel's busy staring over at BugBear... she's talking to Zaunya stood off to the side about 30 yards away… she occasionally glances back over at him.
"Hey." Brian says snapping his fingers a couple times in Netty's face to re-gather his attention. Netty finally looks over at him confused.
"Try to quickhack me." Brian repeats softly while pointing at his own eyes again.
"Tch, uhh... what?" Netty scoffs
"You heard me. Lets go. Try to gimme somethin' with some heat."
"I'm not quickhackin' you choom." He says dismissively… wondering what the hell this game is that hes already over.
"Heh. You say that as if you actually can..… choom." Brian says challenging.
A pause of tension passes by the pair of them for a brief moment.
Netaniel looks at Brian... his expression serious. Brian takes a step back.. gesturing the kid to try it.
Netty begins to attempt a quickhack... turning his eyes red. Brian immediately slaps him in the face lightly. Staggering the kid. Netty takes an instinctual step back with a shocked look on his face.
"What the fu-" He mutters under his breath. Brian doesn't react at all... continuing to stare daggers at him.
Netty tries again… and is met with an even harder slap as Brian takes a step toward him. Netty instinctually backs up again, this time quicker but Brian stays on him... further agitating Netty with every interruption one after the other. Netty, now determined, focuses in on Brian who raises his balled fist.. feinting a punch at Netty causing him to flinch again. Netty hops backwards out of Brian's range, attempting another quickhack. Brian draws his iron... pointing it at Netty's face... he gasps and closes his eyes again with a wince and hands out. Brian front kicks him hard in the chest, sending him flying back... he hits the pavement hard with a scratching thud kicking up dust as Netty lets out a whimper of pain.
"WHAT?! THINK YOU CAN JUST FUCKIN' FREEZE TIME AND CASUALLY PICK THROUGH YOUR PROGRAMS!!!?!" Brian shouts approaching Netty on the ground.
BugBear stood off to the side with Zaunya sees this going down and instinctually starts to quickly walk over to them. Zaunya puts her arm out in front of BugBear... stopping her in her tracks... gesturing her not to. BugBear glances at Zaunya uncomfortably with angst... she reluctantly stands down be before looking back over at the boys.
Brian crouches down over Netty trying to catch his breath after having the wind completely knocked out of him… looking deep into his eyes. He barks through his teeth in a graveled tone we've never heard before... sounding just like his father.
"You… better wake the FUCK UP!! The soft world you run around in is nothin' but a fuckin' brittle, HOLLOW SHELL!!….. There's another world outside your wires… the ganic world… the real world. One where there is only SPEED!! CHROME!! and IMPACT!!!!" Brian shouts causing Netty to flinch.
He suddenly shifts his tone… continuing in a graveled whisper through his teeth… cracking his voice with an intense look on his face... leaning in even closer after a brief pause.
"This city... is rapture.. to the malicious… paradise.. of the wolves… the leech… the treacherous….."
"This is the city of neon blood….…. And if you're gonna survive it you will LEARN!! TO PULL!!! THE TRIGGER!!!"
While Zaunya and BugBear look on startled from a distance, Carter exits the office with Audrey and quickly steps past the ladies... jogging over to Brian and Netty.
Brian stands up over Netaniel still looking right at him.
"Everything alright?" Carter asks glancing at the pair.
"We're already late for the meet… take the kid with you." Brian mutters before turning to walk away.
Netty completely flustered on the ground feels the heavy impact of Brian's boot hitting him square in the chest. He struggles to catch his breath.
"Cmon kid.." Carter mutters deeply, offering a hand and helping him up to his feet.
BugBear with arms crossed finally turns her attention over to Audrey who's joined her and Zaunya.
"So much for a night out huh." Audrey mumbles finishing a smoke.
The overall mood of the crew matches that of Night City's... cold, foggy and gloomy. You'd think after having not seen each other in a while they'd all come together to their betterment. However.. the lingerment of past events has some of them left completely distracted… vulnerable. Carrying burdens and unable to let go.
"We um… we should probably get started. A lot of data to get through… the sooner we finish, the sooner we can get rid of it." BugBear asserts in a whisper ensuring none of the boys can hear her.
"We should head back home." Audrey adds with a whisper.
"Lets go." Zaunya concludes as the ladies turn to head back into the clinic while Carter and Netty pass by headed to their parked van. BugBear and Netty nearly catch each other's eye…. but the momentum of the moment causes them both to reluctantly miss... separated by circumstances.
"H-hey Zaunya, Hold up."
Zaunya hears Brian's voice call out to her stopping her in her tracks... the ladies look back at him while he walks over. Zaunya glances at Audrey and BugBear.
"I'll be right there." She softly ensures with a nod. They return the nod before taking a final uneasy glance at Brian and heading back into the clinic, sliding the door closed. The sound of the van's beastly, modified engine firing up is heard before screeching off up the street… leaving Zaunya and Brian alone in the alley.
A pregnant pause takes over the now quieted streets as the two stand before each other... wind gently blowing the loose fabric of their various clothing. Brian glances behind himself up the alley… the tone is gentle.
"Not too long ago… we were in this same alleyway... after you saved my life that night." He mutters, doing his best to avoid the distraction of her stunning Night City street appearance... he can't help but see Marilyn in her.
"You're not easy to kill." She responds matter of factly with a smile before breaking eye contact as a wave of discomfort washes over her. Feeling vulnerable... guarded... as if hiding something. She crosses her arms.. turning a shoulder as he approaches. With how everything has been unfolding, the last thing she wants is him knowing about it… she knows he'll get involved.
"I'm uh… I'm sure you haven't been stayin' out of much trouble huh." He says in a light chuckle. A weak attempt to keep things lighthearted. He can't help but pry... and hes good at it.
Zaunya doesn't respond… instead glancing back over her shoulder toward Audrey's clinic uncomfortably.
A brief silence sits between the two like a wall you can see right through.
"H-… H-how've you been?" He asks pulling the words out. A question unfamiliar to even himself in this context.
"I..… I have to go Brian." She mutters reluctantly... her somber voice cracks as she begins to turn away.
"W-Wait! Zaunya." He instinctually reaches for her wrist... "Please…. we need to talk."
Her mind flashes a memory... her grabbing his arm and pulling him deeper into the PetroChem warehouse.
She hesitantly turns back around causing the pair to look deep into each other's eyes.... the familiarity in them feeling more distant than ever before. She doesn't respond.
"Please." He mutters seriously... a raise of the eyebrows. A tone she's unfamiliar with.
They hear the door to Audrey's clinic slide open as she comes back out.. causing the pair to glance over at her.
Brian lets go of her wrist.
"Zaunya? Are you ready? We should get going." Audrey asserts in a pressing tone as she approaches... socially inserting herself into the matter.
A pause of silence takes place between them all…. the smallest wave of tension floats by as Zaunya looks at Brian.
"I'll meet you guys back at home." Zaunya concludes in a soft tone, looking back at Audrey over her shoulder.
Audrey says nothing… only glancing at the pair with concern before returning to the clinic… sliding the door closed. Brian picks up on her reaction.. taking the moment to gather his thoughts… thinking deeply.
"You uh… you said something to me a while back that I…. I haven't been able to get out of my head." He recalls what she said in his mind clear as day… the words burned into his psyche... hearing them in her voice. "You wanna talk about trust?….. I don't even know who the fuck you are."
The entrance to Audrey's clinic slides open again as her and BugBear are seen leaving. Taking a final hard glance at Zaunya and Brian before heading toward Audrey's parked wheels. They slowly pull off... taillights fading in the distance consumed by fog.
A cold and foggy pause sits between the pair for a moment.
He raises his eyebrows while looking down. "The last thing I ever wanted.... The last thing I ever wanted was for you to not know who I am."
Zaunya turns and faces him with her full attention. Putting her discomfort on hold... now feeling angst and disbelief… completely caught off guard.
{ Start song now - (ON LOOP): Cyberpunk: Edgerunners — Ending Theme | Let You Down by Dawid Podsiadło 4:44 }
"Grew up just... a dirtkid in Arroyo... sure you might be thinkin'.. 'but Arroyo's all industrial, not residential.' And you'd be right..." He says briefly glancing back at her over his shoulder. "There's uh…. but a single neighborhood… right on the border of Rancho. Made me one of the few 'Arroyo' kids around other than the fatherless ones pushed out in back alley flop spots or abandoned factory warehouses. Grew up running in these streets… they made me."
He takes a few slow, heavy steps over to the fence, leaning his forearm on the chainlink... offering him a surprisingly clear view of the distant cityscape... as if the city itself was peeking through the fog to listen in with Zaunya.
"Tend to learn quick when the consequences are so high… struggle and… deception around every corner that can draw you in. Like anyone where i'm from... I was… lost. Directionless. No motivation, no ambition.. with... the only role model being Night City itself."
He narrates his memories… beginning a flashback:
"BRIAN!!!" His mom screams across the street in the middle of their bustling neighborhood on a sunny day. Little Brian, no older than nine is seen running across the street with his friends weaving through foot traffic. With huge smiles on their faces, they're the victors of a recent score at the local corner store. There was no need to clear the shelves when the owners daughter's got a crush on you.
"BRIAN ENRIQUE VARGA!! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!! NOW!!!"
"Just another dirtkid with an overworked mom... she did her best.. really."
"Aww.. cmon ma!!" Brian's little squeaky voice groans in protest as he runs up to his mom. She stoops down, looking into his eyes.. fed up with his busy antics
"Ma my ass! Don't 'ma' me!" She barks, speaking through her teeth frustrated in a low tone for privacy. "What is this I'm hearing about you klepping immuno blockers from Derrick's father's clinic!"
"W-what?? I- I didn't ma! Some gonks just go crazy for this stuff! Derrick gives them to me!"
"Because you're blackmailing his brother into making him swipe them for you! Don't play with me Brian! What the FUCK are you even doing with all of those!?" She shouts. Having grown wise to his hustle... was hard to get anything past her the more active he got. The audacity of this kid to be sewing mischief like this on such a level. Although busy to no end with R.E.O scraping cyberpsychos and the like off the pavement, she was sure to keep her ear to the streets… especially in regards to her son. After all... he had to get his intuition from somewhere.
"...All changed when my dad came back home that next year."
Brian's father Enrique… former decorated army veteran turned PMC during the fourth corpo war is being called into his commander's office. Two seated FIA agents quickly rise to their feet to greet him with ambitious respect. The door to the office closes.
He's next seen arriving home after being dropped off... carrying the remnants of time's past in his luggage.
"He walked away after that meeting. Never told me why just… said… what they wanted him to do 'wasn't right'… didn't matter to him what they offered." Brian mutters squinting his eyes... looking down with his foerarm posted on the chainlink fence.
"He uh… he got back home and opened up a gym. All the neighborhood kids flocked there quicker than a new Buck A Slice grand opening. Its where I met Graves. We used to spar all the time… god he was so damn good….. he really picked up on wrestling… I gravitated towards my dad's Muay Thai or Sambo classes usually."
Brian and Graves now teenagers are seen doing various hardcore drills in the boxing ring and on the mats. Sparring with various other kids and progressing both methodically and chaotically overtime. Tending to injuries, sweating their asses off, cracking jokes and hanging out with the other fighters.
"Kept us off the streets during a time when we really needed it y'know?" His eyebrows wrinkled as he comes off the fence.
He takes a hard look at the cityscape before a few steps into the alley... staring down the littered emptiness of its long stretch... his back still toward Zaunya. She continues listening in full focus... countless emotions coursing through her body as if sitting on a blade's edge.
"As time went on and we got older… our training evolved... took on a different light. Had a different context associated with it. Went from… discipline and perseverance to... grit and brutality. He started to always say to us-"
"If you boys are gonna survive in this city you're gonna need more than just your fists." Enrique claims as we see a much smaller gathering of young men lined up with iron in hand and targets before them. "Before you use that iron… you're damn sure gonna know and understand… WHY it is you will." The students each raise their iron at the targets to fire.
"He always held me to a higher standard than everyone else… after daily training we would do our evening training. Just me and him. Used to tell me… 'who he is is a reflection of who I CAN be.' That… when I grew up... I would be good at something. Said it was up to me what that something ended up being. Put all of his time, effort and energy into me and expected nothing less than perfect. Always kinda felt like the remnants of his own ambitions at times."
A young adult Brian is seen in the middle of a well crafted training area Enrique and his chooms use for any and all formal and informal combat training out in the desert. Everything from obstacle courses and target ranges to heavy bags and weight piles. A creative mixture of 'borrowed' high-end, military grade equipment and home made, recycled stations. Brian stands surrounded by a small group of some of his lifelong training partners from the gym who happen to also be some of Enrique's closest friends. Rick Forrester and Nicholas Howard also being among them.... everything from Militech CQB specialists to MaxTac field sergeants... all geared up and staring daggers at him in silence.
Enrique speaks over the sound of the heavy wind while slowly pacing back and forth outside the circle. One blood red, chrome cyberarm on his chin and the other stocky ganic one tucked under his armpit.
"Well then... you've got some hands now…. you can shoot some iron and actually hit somethin'. " He and his friends chuckle lightly to themselves.
"Now, this is gonna be a little different than that Militech training shard you've grown so fond of playing around in all day n night. I have a feeling it hasn't done the best things for your self confidence up to this point so..." Enrique claims as Brian glances around at the crew nervous with adrenaline surging... not knowing what to expect with his mind now racing. "Just keep in mind that... the principals of flow… in brutality that we rehearse and focus on… still applies here."
Enrique stops pacing... he turns to face the pack surrounding Brian. His gravely, deeply demonic like voice mutters.
"Lets see ya flow." He concludes with the snap of his fingers.
At the snap… his crew charges Brian at full speed. Brian's instincts kick in... picking a target and charging directly at them in a frantic attempt to create some space. The soldier hes chosen to charge, the short, stocky Rick Forrester, waits with his arms out inviting Brian to bring it on. As Brian engages him, he anticipates grabbing Brian's arm to shift his weight in a quick, clean attempt at a judo hip toss. Brian anticipates this and V steps past him... elbowing him square in the face staggering him slightly. He spins while grabbing Rick by the throat with his forearm.. using him as a meatshield before taking a couple of shots at the rest of the crew closing in on him. He hits one in the leg, stopping his stride and another in the shoulder before hes headbutted by the back of Rick's head before quickly being hip tossed. Sending his iron flying through the air and him to the dirt with a hard thud kicking up dust. Rick secures a standing arm lock while the rest of the crew swarms him and begins to stomp him out.
They do a number on him before Enrique casually snaps his fingers again causing them all to immediately stop like trained dogs. He slowly walks over to Brian while the crew disperses, checking over their own damage. His heavy boots crunch gravel and sunbaked dirt as he slowly approaches.
He crouches down over a stunned and beaten Brian barely conscious.
"Welcome back to square one son." Enrique whispers with a smirk.
"Over the years I got obsessed with this... idea of 'combat flow' he'd call it. Reactionary, close quarters skirmishing. It was like an art form with so many different levels... every movement, every action having to be… deliberate... decided. Force meeting force. Being able to exist.. to live in the art of anticipation. He made sure I understood that it was a blade you can spend a lifetime sharpening… teaching me how to effectively apply the practice to pretty much all areas of life. This idea of... 'honing the mind as if it were a muscle'… We'd do.. mental and memory tests… recreational track and finds across Night City… social engineering challenges amongst the public. He uh.. made me read books on human psychology.. the history and art of combat and warfare.. not just amongst people.. but even various parts of the animal kingdom… he'd quizz me on em. It was… a lot. Made us closer though... that's all I really ended up caring about overtime." He concludes looking down... thinking deeply.
He continues after a deep breath.. shifting tone slightly.
"Wasn't long before I started to apply some of these things in areas they just didn't belong in….. tch... Night City and its dregs didn't stand a chance. The rift between my father's influence on me and Night City's started to clash in a pretty heavy way. Like an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object. He used to catch me without even trying… like... he was always 5 steps ahead somehow."
Brian takes a glance back at Zaunya.. she's staring in disbelief... listening on with her arms crossed, on the edge of her emotions.. struggling not to let them interject.
He hesitates… the words clinging to his throat trying their hardest not to come out. He continues.
"Eventually things uh...… things took a turn." He says in a dead tone… the buried emotions cracking right through the seams of the statement. He begins to recall the past:
"Anabelle!! We have three more over here!!" A woman calls out to Brian's mother amongst a quiet bloodbath of carnage. The final resting place of countless innocence now surrounded by yellow NCPD holotape with crawling text. Victims of collateral damage inflicted by MaxTac's latest cyberpyscho clean up. They're never the type to be mindful of who or what's in the way... most of them bordering on cyberpyschosis themselves. Their 'clean-ups' tend to just look like massacres… like a buzzsaw dropped into a flower garden to pull weeds. Bodies upon bodies of all ages and social class lay lifeless among puddles of blood. Trauma Team Platinum already having arrived and left with their various complacent and privileged clients… some sporting small bruises or mere cuts from stray debris and shrapnel as they're gingerly assisted to the AV... stepping over the lifeless, less fortunate.
Anabelle looks on at the spattering of trauma as her colleagues conduct their routine. Hardened medtechs spending their days, scraping up viscera and site data, recording fresh snaps for the future sale of various braindances, picking through often wrecked beyond repair cyberware. R.E.O was gonna meet profit margins one way or another. The cognitive dissonance needed to do a job like this is on a level most wouldn't even be able to fathom… almost like scavs in a different light.
The sound of a muffled shriek grabs Anabelle's attention causing her to look over toward a blood covered corpse laid in the street amongst countless others. She begins to see movement underneath the corpse stuffed under a concrete bench causing her to gasp and quickly race over to it. She rolls the corpse over... as the lifeless arm flails out of the way it reveals a child no older than five tucked away under the bench. The blood covered child cowers in fear, completely traumatized. Anabelle extends a hand, reaching out to the baby causing him to jolt and pull away. She calls to the child soft and nurturing.
"It's ok baby- It's ok- come here." She gently says attempting to nurture a child completely shellshocked from the sudden intensity of events.
Loud screeching tires suddenly approach to a stop 30 yards away, causing Annabelle's team to gasp and look over.
Several gang goons hop out of a beat up Villefort with iron drawn... firing several loud warning shots into the air causing civilians and most of Anabelle's colleagues to scatter with NCPD.
"GET THE FUCK GONE YOU COCKAROACHES!! THIS BUFFET IS OURS NOW!! AND MY DINNER PLATE IS EMPTAYYY!!! HAHAHAHAAA!!!!" The leader screams in a cybernetically altered voice among the screams of scattering civilians as NCPD badges sprint for cover.
Anabelle still crouching over the corpse quickly looks back at them before looking at the boy.
"Come on baby! I've got you, its ok! Come on!" She shouts in a panic with an instinctual tone in her voice trying to keep it light for the child. In that moment, another set of tires come to a screeching halt on the scene. Four doors are heard opening before the sound of high caliber gunfire begins to erupt just yards away. The concussive impact of the rounds causes everyone in the area to flinch or drop to the ground... screams begin to again ring out. Anabelle reaches for the child who again instinctually pulls away from her. She reaches again with no empathy, yanking the child out from under his dead father.. prying his little hand from his corpse as he screams in protest amongst raging gunfire. Anabelle buries the child's face into her chest, cradling the back of his little head… sprinting full speed through the remnants of the crime scene.. his muffled crying muted by gunfire. New bodies begin to join the old ones.. some being her colleagues and fellow EMTs alongside NCPD badges and gangoons alike. She skillfully wades through a collapsing melting pot of violence... her breathing heavy with adrenaline and panic as she grips tightly onto the screaming child.
Anabelle is hit by a stray bullet in the neck... her blood sprays out on impact as she screams out a shriek. Her running momentum sends her scraping to the pavement hard... the kid falling even harder with a scrape cutting his skin deep. The kid frantically scrambles out from underneath Anabelle pooling blood and continues to run.
She struggles to breath... gasping... choking for air through squirt spraying blood as her wide open eyes watch the kid sprint away... she helplessly reaches for him.
Anabelle fades away in the midst of relentless gunfire and chaos... just another soul... claimed by Night City. Ending the memory.
"Entire neighborhood showed up to her services... blew me away just how many people's lives she touched over the years."
We see an almost endless gathering of Night City locals from all walks of life… mercs… doctors… Sixth Street gangers stood alongside Valentinos… NCPD badges… even a Trauma Team executive she was close with... the entire district came to a stop. Lives she's saved stand before her casket in silent mourning.
"La muerte... de un ángel'... The death of an angel... Mama Welles said." Brian's voice cracks... tears of mourning long dried up and gone in years past. Zaunya wipes tears from her face as he continues.
"She uh... she may have been the flatline... but it.... it truly killed him. When he came home... he had a lot of shit he struggled with. Shit he made sure I didn't see or hear much of but.... she was always there with him... through it all. She was his rock... his reason to keep going after having EVERY just reason not to."
He pauses to gather himself after taking a deep breath…. he starts to slowly pace back and forth in the alley. Shifting tone.
"Didn't take long to find all of em.... was pretty standard stuff... was interesting applying some of the practices to a live scenario if i'm being honest.... never realized how easily some of it can come together."
Enrique walks into a dark warehouse with a look of skepticism and disbelief on his face. Graves and several of Brian's other chooms usher him toward a sealed room in the back of the warehouse with Brian stood there waiting patiently... his hands clasped behind his back. As Enrique approaches, Brian hands him a metal blackjack. As the weighted weapon is placed into his hand he stares at it briefly in a trance. As much as he protested Brian going the lengths to do all of this, Enrique still found himself right there... as disappointed and reluctant as he may be in a haze of blinding depression.
The door opens... revealing a single gang goon surgically identified as the shooter who pulled the trigger killing Anabelle and finally plucked off the Night City streets. Enrique looks up from the blackjack and sees the ganger tied to a chair by all limbs.
The untouched ganger looks and sees Enrique's eyes... a look in them unlike any other... one of private distress... sadness... vulnerability... and retribution. Its as if in that brief moment... the ganger can physically see what Enrique felt... causing his eyes to open wide in fear.
Enrique with his eyes now locked on the goon casually lets go of the blackjack... dropping to the warehouse floor with a heavy clink while turning to walk into the room. He slowly slides the door closed as the ganger frantically scrambles to break free of his restraints in a panic. The metal door scrapes shut... a loud echoing thud alongside the gangers desperate, pleading screams of fear.
After a lengthy period of time, Brian and his chooms stood outside smoking hear the scraping metal of the warehouse door slide back open causing them to look over and head back in.
They're met halfway by Enrique... shirtless and now covered in blood. They all look on at him... although expecting of a scene, they're taken aback by the level of brutality in the aftermath. Enrique silently gazes at the young men while breathing heavy in a trance. Brian cradles his father... gingerly assisting him out of the warehouse while signaling the rest of his boys to head into the room with the dead goon... ending the memory.
"He never really found any peace as a result of that... with her gone, overtime he just..... he just shut down. Shut the gym down... stopped leaving the house. After a while it was only Nick who'd come by and check on him every now n then." Brian concludes before a mourning pause... shifting tone again.
"Since I was grown by then, he left me to my own devices. Night City had always been calling... but... as his grip on me loosened, the city's tightened. Started out simple. Just wanted my own shit. It really paid to bring those around me up at the same time. But with every lick... came more threats... more eyes… enemies... more hands out. With such a solid foundation under me, managing trust and street politics this far out on the edge... came natural to me..... I was fucking good at it..... the best. I reveled in... control. In being unknown. Used to make me laugh listenin' to gonked mercs and solos harp on wanting to become Night City Legend..... harp on being... remembered."
He pauses briefly.
"Y'know what I used to say to em?" He glances back over his shoulder.
"Fuck being remembered."
"For every boom or bust in this city... every flatline... every gunshot... to every confrontation… every life and death chess match you might find yourself in... You know what separated me from them? What kept me alive? Was that none of em could ever get the spec on me. A ghost in this city with obscured motives... gaining more reach and influence than I ever cared for. Was always just used as a means to get me and mines... and fuck the rest. But what do you when you've gotten everything without so much as a second look? Or at least access to the things you may ever want at the push of a few buttons. Respect.. fear.. admiration.. loyalty.. wealth… it was all there... right in my hands... waiting to see what I did with it."
Brian stops pacing... he looks down and closes his eyes. Reluctance grabs ahold of him again.. tighter than ever before.
"Then I met her..." He mutters.. cracking his voice. Zaunya's eyes widen.
"Was doin' a bit of 'personal' celebrating on my own down on Jig Jig street that night. An open field of opportunity right in front of me for the taking made me often forget about it at times. Every blue moon, i'd head out solo to try n' get away from it all for a night. That night I just.... just heard her screams and came runnin." Brian recalls the series of events of meeting Marilyn to Zaunya. He picks up in the aftermath.
"After we met... she started to key me in on her situation. Where her and her sister Evelyn were at in life... at odds with each other at a crossroad. The powerlessness she suffered at the hands of a city that wanted nothing more than to bring her to her knees. I just... couldn't help myself. I asked her.... if thats in fact where she was in life..... then where did she wanna be..... rest was history."
Brian and Marilyn are next seen entering his father's gym. Desolate but well kept. Armed with his knowledge and experience... he starts from square one with her. Sharpening Marilyn as if she were a blade. Drilling disciplines into her head until they became muscle memory. Enrique would chime in occasionally. Watching her progress... and even moreso, it being his son putting in the work really breathed some new life into the old man. Got em out of the house for a good while at least. Even if the time was only short lived... his pride in Brian was unmistakable. Marilyn obsessed over her training.. her technique… countless hours in sim and realtime scenarios... the process caused all distraction in their lives to fade away. She reveled in Brian's approval.. his commitment… she wanted nothing more than to make him proud of her.
"Gotta admit... saw her as the perfect opportunity... the perfect... excuse to get back to who I was. But realized... who I was had changed. Was no longer the same disciplined soldier my dad had created... nor the same streetkid Night City produced. I was... something different entirely."
Brian and Marilyn are next seen standing on the old training grounds his father made and once frequented with him.
Surrounding Marilyn were some of Brian's closest chooms including Graves.. all geared up and ready. Marilyn looks on at the crew surrounding her with focus and determination... not a shred of fear present.
"Much like my dad with me... I put all of my focus and effort into her. Was like… I used her to try n' run from the inevitable. She took my mind off the streets during a time when I really needed it.... for a while at least..."
Brian shifts subject slightly.
"Y'know... something that's always stood out to me about this city when it comes to people like us is... it doesn't lure us in by giving... it lures us in by taking."
Brian stops and looks over at Zaunya... stood in silence and disbelief.. raptured in his words with her arms now crossed. Waiting for him to continue.
"Started to bring her in on some of the shit I was up to. She insisted really. Got the occasional ear beating from Evelyn of course. Though she always made sure I knew she was grateful... she understood what Marilyn was becoming even if she didn't necessarily agree with it. Gave her peace of mind knowing her little sister could take care of herself out there... wasn't in such a hurry to ship her to Oregon anymore. Even got to the point where Evelyn got her in with The Mox. When I heard she had her initiation coming up… it just made me smile... felt bad for some of those ladies going into that scrap."
Marilyn is seen beating the shit out of the various Moxes in her initiation as they each charge at her relentlessly. She flows expertly with experience and confidence... with Suzie being the only one managing to drop her.
"We um... we got close." Brian's voice cracks.
We see a series of memories... Brian's time with Marilyn… the training… the scores… the violence... their embrace... the bridge... the romance…. it was a whirlwind of fire and connection… A passion for the ages.
"In true Night City fashion, things started to spiral from there on. With the city constantly calling, my father faded into the background. For any solo good enough… there's never a shortage of shit people need done in this city without some hungry fixer finessing them on a deal. A stitch sewn here, a clean hit there… gone before they, or even our own employers could fully piece together who we were… it was nice. Out there, our abilities complimented each other… like-"
Brian stops abruptly… he glances back at Zaunya and finishes the thought right there. His ramble of truth getting the better of him as it slips out. He looks down and away from her... taking a deep breath before continuing.
"Things escalated…. more eddies meant higher stakes. Higher stakes meant higher risk. Far more complexities and moving parts. Started to get chipped up. Going from basic shit like data kleps to… full on Night City street espionage. We soldiered up. Had almost a dozen or so choombas from all walks of life I had gathered on my jacket... not to mention their own networks of contacts. Most from the gym, others from the street... real sandbox levels of camaraderie held firmly together. Unshakeable trust made tactical placement and application of em while staying under the radar pretty damn natural. It just kinda fuckin…. Got outta hand." He reluctantly admits... almost as if talking to himself in a tone of condemnation… a tone of shameful… selfish excuse.
"We'd been sortin' through the fallout with this other crew that just never seemed to go away. A 'he said, she said' of convoluted nonsense with a bunch of finger pointing and blame games going on. Night City street politics just being Night City street politics. Lead to some serious, unnecessary damage on both of our ends... missed contracts.. sharked cyberware deals, kidnapped and extorted choombas.. the works. Normally it wouldn't really mean much… but the crew we had this spat with were a serious outfit at the time... things had already escalated beyond words. They had a mind to see us out of the game so… naturally…. we struck first."
We see Brian and his entire original crew gathered at his father's gym... now a makeshift headquarters for conducting any manner of operations in Night City. Trinkets and trophies lay and display about housing various memories of the crew's hardships and triumphs. Brian's PKB trophies from childhood now sit next to or covered up by the klepped items of slain enemies. They loiter about using the place to organize intricate next steps on jobs as well as routinely train and network. The place was discreet and in full swing. A hivemind of capable criminals with high standards and a history of success... an eclectic crew of people that looked like you'd never even imagine they knew each other.
"We were lookin' to avoid a long, drawn out, tit for tat... back and forths with assholes like these was just attrition so this first strike had to be the last one. Had my runner trackin' the movements of the ones that mattered for quite a while. Had contacts doing some serious leg work on the street. Everything was set in place and where it needed to be… it was finally time to move."
The following events transpire in silence.
Brian and Marilyn are seen having a shouting match in the dark office of the gym alone... the moonlight able to barely bleed through the tight window shades. She storms off in protest as Brian pursues.
"This wasn't like some of the previous shit we had found ourselves in. Chrome jocks had our number. You just didn't really find people playing the game like this at our level… they had the tech… the minds… the numbers. Risks were… just too high. I…. I just couldn't let her-" He trails off.. raising his eyebrows.
Some time later, Brian re-enters the gym office sporting his best… his hair was short and slicked back with a shine reflecting under the dim light. His hi-collar, leather trench coat sways with every step and movement he made. Veins of lava-like LEDs course with an orange glow through the length of it alongside stray bulletholes. The lights of his various implants calmly blink and flicker alongside the sleek shine of his various chrome's finish... everything from his chrome, blood red, Gorilla Arms, to the sleekly designed EMP threading throughout his face and neck. His blood red, crimson Nue holstered at his hip.. and a gathering of some of the heaviest unknown hitters Night City had to offer... loyal to him... gathered under the same principals and cause... awaiting his command. He had become a complete and realized man…..
A true Cyberpunk.
Brian enters the office... standing tall with his back straight and chin up… hands clasped behind his back... carrying the energy of a distinct and accomplished general. With his entourage at his back, he enters to a waiting geared up Marilyn, Graves and several others. He looks on at his various soldiers… his friends... loyal to each other as much as their gathered and groomed principals.
He takes a long, hard, emotionless look at Marilyn… stonefaced with his mind in the grips of a prolonged life and death street war with EVERYTHING on the line. Having not told her definitively if he was going to allow her to ride with them or not.
Brian silently glances at Graves in the eyes before promptly glancing at the rest of the crew... he slowly turns to exit the room with them in tow..... the silent order is clear.
Shes not coming.
"NO! NO! PLEASE!! VARGA!! VARGAAAAAAA!!!!!" Marilyn screams in protest as she frantically tries with all of her strength to free herself of Graves' grip straining to hold her back..... Brian walks out of the office with most of the crew close behind him.
"I insisted… i…. i wanted i...… I didn't trust her." Brian whimpers in monotone... uncontrollable emotion… a tone of confession… yanked out of him.
He quickly turns around… facing Zaunya and catching her off guard. He begins to slowly walk toward her… his true self… his true emotions laid bare before her. He struggles to maintain himself. "If you were headed into somethin' you KNEW! you didn't have a FUCKIN' CHANCE of survivin' would YOU do it!? Huh!?.... I mean WOULD YOU REALLY!?" He shouts gritting his teeth... tears running down his face looking Zaunya directly in the eyes.
Brian catches himself... tamping down his emotions as best as he can in the moment while continuing.
"Made her stay behind... couldn't risk it. She wasn't gonna pay the price for my all or nothing if shit didn't pan out... just how i saw it at the time... in the moment. After everything we'd been through... after all of it.... my fear in losing her... broke my very trust in her."
Brian is seen leaving their gym headquarters... marching up an alley armed to the teeth with most of his crew along with some extra street huscle headed toward parked armored vehicles.
A long pause sits between Brian and Zaunya speechless...
"They…. hit us where we weren't." Brian mumbles... a dead tone.
Graves and Marilyn are next seen hidden in the gym covered in wounds and blood... clasping onto their various iron and breathing heavily trying to stay quiet. They listen to the last of their various chooms being mercilessly executed as the full force of their enemies flood the place in search for Brian. They hear the brutal sounds of interrogation as they kill each member unable to gather any intel from them. Marilyn's hands shake as blood cascades down her hand... dripping off the barrel of the iron she squeezes tightly.
"We scraped the few mercs they had where we hit em... by the time... by the time we... got back-" Brian's words trail off... emotions overwhelming.
The following memory transpires in complete silence.
The tires of Brian's SUV screech to a halt in front of his father's gym now set ablaze.... the flames reach up toward the black Night City sky as Brian, with his crew in tow, sprints toward a barely conscious Graves laid covered in blood. He falls to his knees in Graves' pooled blood... the flicker of orange hues from the flames illuminate the dark space. The crew looks on in disbelief at their home now burning. Brian cradles Graves' body in his arms... screaming... begging... pleading to know where Marilyn is.
Graves coughing up blood strains to place Marilyn's silver cyber locket in Brian's hand covered in blood. The locket contained their combined bio-monitor data presented in a stylish fashion. A unification of pulsing ECG reads intertwined in the shape of a strand of DNA. With it no longer around her neck, the reading on her end has seized... leaving her strand on Brian's twin locket around his neck no longer there.
Brian stares at the locket in his blood covered hand... his mouth and eyes wide open in disbelief... his very breath yanked out of him as he quickly looks up at the burning building. The neon glow of the towering Night Cityscape peers through the black smoke... the true culprit of it all ruthlessly stares down at him... ending the flashback.
The silence of the foggy alleyway grips Brian and Zaunya as he stands there with his back turned toward her staring out into the distant Night Cityscape... his leather jacket calmy flapping in the breeze.
Zaunya does her best to wipe tears from her face as she sniffles trying to gather herself. She covers her mouth with both hands... looking at Brian with mourning empathy... overwhelmed and breaking with unfamiliar emotion.
Brian continues... a dead tone with stray tears slowly running down his face.
"First strike was theirs... was only the first strike though."
Several months later, after a long, drawn out and brutal all in by Brian and his crew... no longer tethered by caution and forethought brought this rival crew to their knees. Graves is seen with his arms crossed in a familiar warehouse... the same one Enrique once exacted revenge for Anabelle's murder. He hears the sounds of Brian ruthlessly beating the leader of the rival outfit. Primal shouts pour out him through the walls with every raw vibration. He uncomfortably cringes as he listens to Brian in the darkest headspace hes ever been in... using various tactics of torture on the man... demanding answers.
"WHERE IS SHE!!!!!!!!" Brian roars at the top of his lungs with each weighted thump. Demanding answers to a question hes been hopelessly pursuing to no end... unable to accept his reality while in a blind rage.
"It was… the only way to know for sure..." Brian whispers somberly cracking his voice... looking out at the foggy night cityscape.
"The truth was always there. Everyone saw it. That... I would've burned.... This. Entire. City. to the ground... to find her."
He chokes up... tears running down his face again as he closes his eyes tight, looking down.
"It was finally over..." He exhales gathering himself... wiping away tears, trying to shift tone. "Fallout went pretty much how you'd expect. After that i just.... i walked away. I was done... fuck Night City and its game. A life I chose to walk away from... and didn't have to." He mutters... his back turned towards her. "No matter how hard Graves tried... I was again left without purpose... without a reason to move forward... a shell of my former self much like… my dad."
He concludes before a long pause... looking down.
"Until I met YOU.... Zaunya." He squints with conviction... finally turning to face her... causing her to look up at him overwhelmed.
We see a series of quick flashes of Brian and Zaunya's time together... the sixth street compound... the Petrochem warehouse... the Dollop of Sunshine... the Pacifica ambush... the Hotel Pistis Sophia raid... the laughs... the quiet... the genuine embraces in the moment.... the connection.
"Brian..." She whispers cracking her voice filled with reluctance and emotion... tears running down her face.
He continues as he slowly approaches her.
"I didn't want to..... but it….. it was clear you… you needed me."
"Brian..." Zaunya whimpers again even more reluctant... unable to contain herself... the walls quickly rising again.
He stands before her face to face...
"What wasn't clear to me was.... how much I needed you." His voice cracks.
Zaunya looks deep into Brian's eyes.
She chokes up… her voice cracks as tears continue down her face.
"I..... I have to go." She cries in a whisper... completely broken as she quickly turns to walk away....
"Zaunya..." He whispers in a deep monotone as she gathers distance... her fast walk becoming a run.
"Zaunya!" He shouts down the alley...
She continues to run... frantically crying to herself..... cutting to black.