[Runners]

[Volume 1: Hearsay]

[Beta Read by: HackSlashBash and Korak324]

[Special Thanks To: The Voices]

[Prologue]

A blur of metal rushed through Dharma Tower, the megastructure that held the last remnants of humanity. From wall to wall, the shimmering apparition jumped and slid until it made it to a round platform. Finally standing still for a brief moment, any would-be observer would recognise the figure to be a ghostrunner, the last of his kind. Metal coated his body, while the area where a man's face should normally be was covered by black plate displaying a yellow, inverted triangle.

In his hand was a yellow-black blade, a simple tool suited for the job at hand. No stray bullets, pure precision, fit for a ghostrunner.

As he stood in the centre of the platform, weapon at the ready, a figure descended from above. It was a woman, fitted with so many mechanical bits inside that one could hardly call her human, and with four tentacle-like appendages sticking out from her back. While she looked human, a vitals scan would prove otherwise, at least according to a conventional definition of humanity.

"So you've made it here, ghostrunner. You've come all this way to stop me, and for what? To have humanity stay in this tower forever?! You're a fool!" Mara, the keymaster, said, her additional appendages making her loom over the ghostrunner.

The ghostrunner didn't offer her any words, instead rushing forward. Even for her, genius and implants put to full use, the ghostrunner was merely a blur. His normal speed was already far beyond a human's, but the additional boost function let him blitz her.

She swiped wildly at the shape, only for it to dodge out of the way, or use its inbuilt grappling hook to jump above her swipe.

"I won't be defeated by a mere machine!" she yelled as the blur got closer, the yellow afterimage of his blade signalling her death. Her appendages spread out in all directions right as a sharp pain pierced her gut.

"I am not just a machine." came the voice of the ghostrunner, nearly human if not for the slight static.

Mara spat out the blood that was quickly pooling up in her mouth, "And I am not yet dead. I'll see you again, ghostrunner!"

A weird glow encompassed the area, the ghostrunner quickly looking around and analysing the situation. The four additional limbs of the keymaster appeared to be jacked into odd ports in the walls.

"Shit." was all the ghostrunner managed to say before being consumed by a white light.

[Chapter 1: Out of the Tower and Into the Metropolis]

David Martinez was smart, Ivy League smart. Still, a little delinquency never hurt anybody, right? Or maybe it did, but that was the whole damn point! Unfortunately for him, his mother didn't see it that way, currently scolding him.

"You're breaking my heart, you know? I've been busting my ass for so long, and you just want to throw away all my hardwork?" his mother asked, tears beginning to fill her eyes.

"N-No! It's just that I won't ever feel like a proper corpo! And they know it! I'll always stick out!" he countered. In this dog-eat-dog world, the corpos were the shitty owners that facilitated it. Just being around them in school was enough… He would've spat on the ground to emphasise his distaste, but doing so in his mother's car would have just been needlessly disrespectful.

"Isn't that better than the streets?! Do you really want to throw everything I worked into the trash because you can't deal with the atmosphere?"

Before the argument could escalate, a pink car with two chromed up guys pulled up to their side, unleashing hellfire upon a car directly to the left of David's, the bullets missing his head by mere millimetres.

He hoped the same could be said for his mother, though the massive pileup that was now created didn't bode well, the car they were in flipping and being nothing more than a heap of scrap.

His vision faded in and out, ears ringing and his face being stained with his own blood. Thankfully, he was alive and mobile to some degree. Unfortunately, his mobility was of no use, the wreck constraining him in place.

The trauma team should have been on its way at any moment, though he didn't know if he or his mom were insured, and so he tried to find a way out. "Move, damn you!" he yelled, trying to get his arm from below the scrap.

Skin was scraped off his arm as he tried to pull it out, and he hoped the blood would help him get loose.

"Fucking hell!" He tried once more to get himself loose, only for his hopes to be dashed.

"Looks like we still got a live one! No witnesses, right?" came a voice to his left, where he saw one of the chromeheads that started the driveby.

"Wait! Ple-" David began, only for a blur to appear behind the man.

Faster than any merc he had seen in snuff films, the gangster was bisected by the hooded figure standing behind him.

'How much chrome is this choom running!?' he silently asked himself, the figure before him not having even the tiniest bit of skin left, 'Don't tell me it's a goddamn psycho!'

The ominous, flickering lights that covered the figure's face seemed to glare at him, only to quickly look away as the sound of machine gun fire echoed out once more.

With precision that could only be offered by military-grade implants, the figure deflected every last bullet with his glowing sword, dashing away and leaving behind a scream as David guessed another man got added to the chopping block.

'Okay, he's gone, hopefully.' the young man thought to himself, breathing a sigh of relief that immediately proved to be fruitless as the psycho reappeared, sword raised.

He closed his eyes, hoping the pain would only last a few moments, only to be dragged out of the wreckage by the figure who had cut away the metal entrapping him.

"You're stable." the robotic voice said, pulling him up to his feet.

Amazed his head was still attached to his body, he got a closer look at the figure. This guy really did seem to be all chrome, yet he seemed sane enough. He almost looked like some Maelstroms, but even those guys had a little flesh on them. This guy just seemed… like all machine.

"Than-" Before David could say anything to the mysterious benefactor, a member of a trauma team pushed him out the way, surrounding the man of iron and aiming at him.

"Identify yourself!" one of the medics called out, the gun pointed at the figure being a sign of his clear willingness to violate the hippocratic oath.

For a brief moment, David could swear he saw the figure jump into the air, disappearing as if they were never there.

"Code S! Sandevistan on the loose!" the medic said, aiming around rapidly and trying to catch where the figure went.

'Sandevistan? Is that what that choom was using? Like in that XBD? No way in hell, this guy was even faster!'

The figure didn't reappear, gone like a goddamn ghost, prompting the trauma team to move on to his mother, finding her to be uninsured…

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

The ghostrunner walked through the neon-lit street of what he overheard to be called Night City. It reminded him all too much of the residential level of Dharma Tower, though seeing the sky was an odd experience. At least the neon felt familiar…

He was currently looking for someone known as a ripper doc. When he asked what place and year he was in, 2076 was one of the last things he expected to hear. Of all the things Mara was capable of, time travel was not one of them, so it was probably a side effect of one of her experiments.

A ripper doc should get him better answers as to the level of tech he should expect. If he was here, chances are that Mara was too, and thus being ready for whatever she was capable of using was a priority. Even without the Architect, Mara was a brilliant scientist, and she would turn whatever this world had into her weapons with ease.

As he walked past random people on the streets, he looked at their augments. There were the basics: stronger limbs, better eyes, a few cosmetic ones, nothing he wouldn't have expected of the keys back home, worse even. There were some things similar to Mantis X implants and Chikara IVs, but nothing even close to his own Tsuru-GR blade.

What showed this difference in tech to him most clearly was the fact that the people looked at him in a different manner, even if his head was covered mostly by a hood.

"Who the hell is that choom? Maelstrom maybe?" came a whisper on the side.

"Nah, a maelstrom would be more fucked up, unless this is one of their bigshots."

"A bigshot in Santo Domingo? Hell nah. Besides, this motherfucker got enough chrome to give Smasher a run for his money."

A thud echoed at as a man was slapped on the back of the head, "Don't even say that fucker's name, you hear me?"

'Maelstrom? Smasher? I need information.'

He turned to a shady alley, finding a door guarded by nobody, lest their implants be of such quality that they could evade even his sensors. In hindsight, maybe this wasn't the most prestigious institution and that was the reason for the lack of guards, but it'd have to do.

After entering, he found a white-haired man on what he guessed was an operating seat. Guessing this was the doctor, he interrupted his… operation that was being performed on his reproductive organ.

"Oi, oi! Who the hell do you think you are, choom!? Busting into my joint and interrupting my alone time!" the doc said, his chair turning around and making him face the intruder.

The second his mind registered who was in front of him, his limbs were quickly switched out with ones designed to kill. "A motherfucking psycho!? In my crib?!"

Before he could shoot, the ghostrunner grabbed his newly fitted arms, forcing them away. "I am not one of them. Cooperate with me and you'll live."

Reluctantly, the machines dancing around the doc receded, making the ghostrunner let go of his current limbs.

"Only if you tell me who the hell you are." the doc said.

"Call me Jack. I'm looking for information on implants."

"Well, you came to the right place, if you've got the eddies. Call me Doc, but know that I ain't running no charity around here." The VR helm moved backwards, revealing the eyes of Doc, ones that were intently starting at the tech Jack was fitted with. "You know what? Let me take a look at that fancy shit you got on you, and I'll give you a helping hand."

The edge of Jack's blade appeared beneath his chin, "Close enough of a look?"

Doc gulped, inching backwards, "Y-yea, plenty. So, uh, you want my catalogue?"

"You have one?" Jack asked, his robotic voice unable to hide his surprise. What kind of shady, underground clinic had a catalogue of all things?

"Of course I have one! I'm a damn good ripper doc, I'll have you know!" Doc said, genuine offence lining his voice.

Jack extended his hand, deciding that perhaps this man was more organised than it seemed, with Doc scrambling to put the little booklet into the grasp of this menacing machineman.

"Anything else you want?" he asked, "Wanna schedule an appointment or something?"

"No, but I need information on the local networks." Jack said, avoiding the mention of the Cybervoid his own systems ran on.

Doc shook his head, "Can't help ya there. You'd have to find a netrunner for that. It's not my gig, especially given how fucked that job is." he said, shivering slightly.

"A netrunner?"

"A hacker, a weirdo that goes into ice baths, that type." Doc said, "You really ain't a local, are you?"

"No. I appreciate the help though." the ghostrunner answered, turning around to leave.

"Hey, I might just have a link or two with some pretty good ones, so if you ever manage to scrounge up the cash, you know where to find me!"

"I will consider your offer, Doc."

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

"If that guy was using a military Sandevistan, then with this… I'll beat Katsuo's ass yet." David mumbled, making his way over to Doc's clinic, military-grade Sandy in hand. The bastard corpo-brat was going to pay for insulting Mom.

He opened the door with little fanfare, finding the ripper doc having his brains sucked out through his dick thanks to what probably was yet another off-brand, illegal chip.

"Oi, Doc!" David called out, used to the bullshit the doctor often pulled.

"There's no way I get interrupted two days in a row, right?! The hell you want, Davey!?" Doc said, reluctantly cancelling his simulation.

The young man simply pointed at the tech in his hand.

"You want to go psycho at your age?! Not to mention you ain't even got the cash to back that up! Motherfucker wants a Sandy! Hahahaha!" The good doctor nearly fell out of his mechanical chair, only being caught by a mechanical arm that was positioned behind him.

"Doc, I'm serious. Just help me out this one time. There are no proper buyers for it, and… I need it." David said, putting the expensive tech on the table.

"You're serious?" Doc deadpanned, "A grown ass man will go insane after a bit with that thing, and you think you can handle it?"

"I can." the young man answered, his will unwavering. A Sandy had its risks, but those were risks worth taking. With his mother gone and that rich, corpo bastard spitting on her memory, what else was he supposed to do?

"First a complete fucking chromehead borg-type comes in here demanding my fucking catalogue and now you appear asking to go fucking psycho, for free at that!"

"Wait, a cyborg?" David asked, "Aren't all those psycho or worse?"

"Well this one wasn't! And his chrome was pretty slick as well… even if he nearly cut my fucking head off!" Doc said, swapping out his arms for something more appropriate for a surgery.

"Cut it off? Did he have a sword? A yellow one!" David probed.

"Yea, but what's it to you? You a fan?"

"That guy saved my life a few days ago, believe it or not."

"Pfft, as if that fucker would save a life. Asshole nearly ended mine." Doc muttered, his fingers being replaced with scalpels, "So you wanna be like him or what?"

"If he can handle it, then so can I."

"Whatever you say. Just know that when you go psycho or come here asking me to take that fucking thing off, I'm taking that Sandy for free."

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

Threatening the good doctor was an option on the table, but currency appeared to be key here. Dharma Tower abandoned such a thing long ago, being based on barter more so than anything else, though he wasn't very concerned with the details, since there appeared to be one very simple truth:

Everything cost eddies.

The ones who had most of the money appeared to be called 'corpos' and worked in the massive corporations that dotted the city skyline. From here, several avenues opened up. He could wage a one man war against some of them in search of large sums, or he could work for them.

'If police and gangs exist, mercenaries must as well.'

It was a logical line of thought. If crime existed in a place as heavily controlled as Dharma Tower with groups like the Hammers running around, then it surely existed in this city, and chances are that it was profitable. Still, there were a few problems with going into that line of work.

Primarily, there was the danger concerning battle and the fact that most jobs would most likely involve shedding innocent blood, something that was off the table. Perhaps there would be some rescue missions that he could partake in? Even then, the locals could pose a threat.

So far he hadn't met anybody on the level of a ghostrunner, which made sense given his point in time, but that only meant that he could find jobs more easily and that they posed less of a threat. Not no threat, but less. Ghostrunners like him weren't exactly built for tanking hits.

However, this whole scenario implied he knew where to find such jobs. He didn't. Chances are that the so-called 'Net' was the place to find them, but he wasn't built for hacking. The most he could hope for was being partially hooked up to it by one of those netrunners, though the chances of that were slim.

Ghostrunners were built by the creator of the tower for the tower, the outside environment seemingly never being considered. Most likely his 'ghostfield', as his creator once called it, would not function either. Scrambling Cybervoid surveillance tech did little good when such things probably didn't exist.

The Cybervoid could sustain an entire megastructure, so whatever this 'Net' was, chances are it didn't compare. Thus there only remained one avenue, face to face business.

'Where would I find potential jobs?' such was Jack's question.

'What kind of job am I looking for?' was the next.

To the first there were a few answers. He could walk from bar to bar, from club to club, from office to office, asking anyone who seemed like the type, and chances are that's what he would have to do.

"I should've asked Doc about that…" Jack muttered, his cybernetic voice causing people to glance at him. Few, if any, sane people went so far as to modify their vocal chords to such a degree, not to mention that his hooded appearance made him stick out in the bright city square.

The second question was much simpler to answer: anything that didn't involve spilling innocent blood was on the table. Still, this wasn't of much help without the first question being answered.

With little else to do, he walked through the vibrant streets of Night City, though he had to admit the area did look much nicer during the night compared to midday.

And so he wandered, going from street to alleyway and to street again, trying to find an appropriate establishment, but for the moment all he could find were chain restaurants and places to shop.

After a while, the city's pristine shine began to wear off. Quickly realising he had reached the slums, Jack looked around for any would-be employers. Groups like the ones he was looking for typically congregated around the base of Dharma Tower, and this area seemed to be the equivalent of that.

Eventually, he spotted a group of armed men sitting outside a restaurant that seemed a little too well-off for this part of town. He headed in, walking past the armed group and straight.

Looking around, he found little out of the ordinary. The bartenders were armed and enhanced, and everyone looked at him as if they wanted to kill him.

'Seems like the place for a job.'

He sat down at the bar, hood still on his head.

"What'll it be?" the bartender asked.

"A job."

"Ey, we've got ourselves some guy thinking he's tough!" came the voice of one of the patrons, followed up by a chuckle from the rest. "What makes you think you're so tough, chrome head?"

The man walked up to Jack, putting his hand on his shoulder and leaning against the ghostrunner.

"I'd show you, but I don't think you could handle me."

"Oooooooh!" once more came the comments of the others, causing a prominent vein to appear on the face of the gangster.

"Oh yea? How 'bout this then?!" The man threw his arm back, only for Jack to appear behind him, the tip of his sword at his aggressor's back.

"Motherfucker's got a Sandy!" someone yelled, drawing their gun alongside everyone else.

'Well, this is unfortunate.'

However, before the situation could explode and make the NCPD's budget look justifiable, another figure entered the restaurant.

"What's goin' on here?"

Immediately, all the gangsters tensed up.

Jack slowly sheathed his sword, turning around to see a middle-aged man with an upside down cross tattoo on his face and nigh silver hair.

"I simply was looking for a job, and this man attempted to punch me." the ghostrunner calmly said.

'Escalation will only make the situation worse… Most I can hope for is for this man to be reasonable. If only the Architect was still with me, he'd have gotten me into the Net in seconds.'

The Architect, a perfect copy of the consciousness of the creator of the tower, was capable of manipulating the Cybervoid with ease, and yet when Jack needed him most, he was seemingly gone, probably fried by whatever Mara did to transfer the two.

Sadly, for the moment this ageing man seemed to be Jack's best bet of getting a job, and from there being able to find Mara if she indeed was here.

"And if I'm judging by the screams of my men here, you have a Sandevistan?" the man asked, his voice betraying his intrigue as he analysed the man's cybernetic face. If he knew his mercenaries, and he did, this was no ordinary one.

"I do move quickly, if that is what you are asking." Jack answered, recognising the mentioned implant as something that drastically enhanced speed, though he had no need for it.

The man motioned for the others to put down their guns, with them slowly doing so. "I may have a need for a man of your talents. Come, sit with me."

The two sat at a table, with the man ordering some food for himself. "Do you want anything? It'd be rude of me as the host to continue the cold welcome you received."

"I am self-sustaining," Jack answered, "Instead, who are you?"

"Most call me Padre." the man said, "But I also go by Sebastina Ibarra, a fixer."

"A fixer?"

"Information broker, smuggler, gang leader, whatever else you want to call those like me. Isn't the reputation of our types why you went searching for a place like this?"

"Maybe."

"I'll take that as a yes." Padre said, a plate of quesadillas being put in front of him, "Are you sure you don't want any? These are truly excellent."

"No, thank you."

"I would've gone psycho long ago if I were you. Not eating, Jesus…" he mumbled, "Either way, I appreciate you not lashing out against one of my own. José can get a bit iffy when tipsy."

"Attacking potential employers is not my forté."

"Understandable, and I'm glad for it. Now then, if you are here for a job, I need to know what you're willing to do first. I have a few things in mind, if that sword isn't for more than mere show."

"Smuggling, assassination, rescues. No innocent blood though."

Padre smiled, "It seems it'll be a pleasure to work with you. We Valentinos also are bound by a strict code of honour. Rare to find a merc like you, but I'm glad I did. See, some of the Animals got a bit confident recently, stepped on our turf."

"Elimination?"

"If you'd be so kind."

"How much?"

"You're confident."

"I know what I can deal with."

"20000."

The ghostrunner stood up.

"Consider it done."

And with that the mysterious figure disappeared.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

"I'm fucking invincible with this thing!" David told himself, walking to one of the nearby Animal hideouts. Those roid-heads couldn't do anything against that weird cyborg guy, so how could they do anything to him now that he had a Sandy? Sure, his knife didn't exactly compare very favourably with that sword he saw, but it would do.

After all, the Animals were just a bunch of buff nobodies! Though they were nobodies who had his mother get caught in the crossfire… They would pay and know just how strong he now was with the Sandy. What good would their shitty muscles do when they couldn't even see him!?

He reached the dingy block that the Animals called home, kicking the door open. "I'm here for revenge, motherfuckers!" he yelled, ready to fire up his Sandevistan only to be greeted by an eerie silence.

"Huh? The hell?"

Stealth wasn't his forte, yet maybe it was best to not announce his presence again… Some odd feeling crept down his now-artificial spine that quickly drained his bravado.

He turned a corner to a more open area, one he guessed was for social events, at least judging by the couch. Though… Now that he looked at it, the party was quite dead, with the bisected bodies really killing the mood.

Flesh squelched under his boots as he walked forward, the hairs on his organic skin standing up straight.

From further down the corridor, David saw some sort of shadow move. Getting a better glimpse at the situation while peeking from behind a corner, he saw a member of the gang fall to the floor, blood pouring from his headless neck.

Above the corpse stood a hooded figure he recognised, wiping its sword on a nearby chair. It looked around for a brief moment, and David swore its triangular lights stopped when the figure faced him.

After a moment, a robotic voice said, "Targets eliminated. I suppose that's the job done."

With speed that David struggled to comprehend without his Sandy, the figure dashed out, the screeching of metal signalling that the machineman was leaving.

"Who the hell is that guy? He mentioned this was a job, so a mercenary I guess? He's so fucking cool…" David mumbled. Out of all the chromeheads he'd ever seen, whoever this guy was, he was the best of them.

Distracted by seeing his newfound idol, he didn't notice the heavy footsteps behind him in time, an Animal that managed to evade the slaughter grabbing him before his Sandy could kick in.

"I come back from the bar and this is what I see!? Did you do this, weakling!?"

The roided up mountain of muscle grabbed David by the neck, lifting him high above the ground. However, before the young man's dreams could be crushed alongside his head, a white-haired figure appeared around the corner for the briefest of moments, and then the Animal that was holding him fell to the ground headless moments later.

"Khuh! Who in the – keh – fuck was that?" David managed to say in between coughing his lungs out. "Hey! Who are you!" he repeated, running up and checking the corner.

"Am I haunted or something?!"

There was nobody there.

A stranger saved his life yet again, disappearing without a trace just like the solo from earlier. Whoever these people were, he needed to meet them. Perhaps they were edgerunners, nearly legendary ones at that, and just maybe he could join their crew…

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

"You found the guy who stole my goddamn Sandy?" a massive black man, augmented to the teeth, asked as a white-haired woman entered the apartment.

"Yeah, Maine, found a kid nearly getting himself ripped to shreds by an Animal."

"And how does that exactly correlate, Lucy?"

"That kid had your Sandy. I'll look into him a bit more, but there was someone else there at that hideout as well."

"Anyone I would happen to know?"

"Probably not. Bastard was fast though. I'm guessing we'll hear about him soon enough."

Maine chuckled heartily, "You're telling me we have a goddamn cyborg, Smasher wannabe running around town, and I haven't heard about it? Don't be ridiculous."

Lucy took out a synthetic cigarette, one that mimicked the real thing scarily well, "I'm just telling you what I saw, and what I didn't. Not a strip of skin on that guy."

"Look, I trust you, but you're telling me we've got a bloody Arasaka vice-head of security running around that hasn't slaughtered enough people to get fucked with by the Taccies. That's just something I can't believe."

"Well, it could've been some weird protective augment that also changed the skin. You're pretty bulletproof, right? With a Sandy you probably wouldn't be too far off from being as chromed up as that choom."

The man sighed and put his massive hand to his chin, "Maybe. Still, I don't like what I'm hearing. If that guy appears again, tell me."

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

The last job was easy enough, and Padre paid the appropriate amount. The priest-turned-gang leader seemed to be a decent enough man, having jobs that didn't involve mindless slaughter of innocents.

'Might as well stick around for a while.'

He jumped from building to building, running across their glass walls until he reached the rooftops. From there, he overlooked Valentino territory. It was a nice departure from the same, repetitive buildings that dotted the inside of Dharma Tower.

Music played, people danced out in the streets, and life seemed to have value beyond mere subsistence, at least a little bit.

'I'll have to thank Mara before I stop her, if she even is here.'

He trusted that Zoe and the Climbers already took over the Tower. Hell, if they managed to fix him up, then they could deal with the fallout of Mara's disappearance, so staying in this day and age might not be a bad idea.

If this world was simply the past, he would see Dharma Tower rise, and if it wasn't, maybe whatever made the outside uninhabitable wouldn't happen. Being unbound by conventional mortality surely gave a man, or rather bio-cybernetic construct, time to think.

Would he be an observer or a player? Or perhaps would his role end up being as alien as his origin?

As he looked out across the neon horizon, his optics picked up a lone figure in a crowd.

'Nearly no vital signs… Odd.'

Maybe this was one of this society's ghostrunners? He himself was more mechanical than biological, though the Architect had previously stated the ghostrunners were made cell by cell, so a little humanity probably persisted. Yet even as Jack curiously looked on, the figure unleashed hell upon its surroundings.

Missiles, gunfire, grenades, an entire armoury revealed itself from within the man, shredding its surroundings. To fit so many bloody rifles, machine guns, launchers, and God knows what else inside a human body, the digestive tract was probably entirely removed.

This was no man but something more akin to a mobile turret.

Jack jumped off the building he was sitting atop, not worrying about a thing as human as dying from a fall, instead grappling as to position himself above the shooter.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, and even the bullets of the man fired began to move at a snail's pace. Aerial manoeuvrability was his domain, and his blade was at the ready, aimed directly at the man's head.

As he neared his target from above, time returning to its normal flow once he was confident of his precision, the shooter moved with speed that nearly equaled Jack.

The ghostrunner's blade pierced the ground, though he quickly pulled it out and reflected the hail of bullets that approached him.

"So a Sandevistan can match my usual speed… Concerning."

His opponent didn't seem to particularly care about him for whatever odd reason, instead turning the twenty or so barrels that stuck out from within his arm against the random people that littered the street.

Jack dashed forward and slid in front of the bullets, pushing his hand forward and emitting a blast of force that returned the bullets towards the killing machine he was facing. If he was just a bit closer, the microvibrations would have turned the man into mincemeat… or metal rather, but the range on that tempest of force was quite limited.

'I need time, or I need to kill if I want to get things over with quickly.'

Perhaps it was a flaw in the Architect's design of the ghostrunners to have them only be able to access their abilities after a long cooldown or several kills, but he would have to manage to deal with this guy either way.

Now the attention of the man was squarely on him, his movements becoming faster and more akin to the wardens Jack knew from the Tower. Still, speed was his specialty.

He jumped forward, time slowing to a crawl once more thanks to his accelerated processing.

'1283 rounds, 14 micro-missiles, 1 missile, Sandevistan active.' he calmly analysed the situation, twisting his body to dodge as many of the bullets as possible.

Even if this man was more machine than flesh, he still retained one crucial flaw of the human condition, that being his inferior processing power. No matter how many implants one got, the human brain could only do so much.

On the other hand, ghostrunners were built for quick processing from the very first cell and circuit; thus even if the Sandevistan the man had could make him approach or match Jack's speed, the movement still seemed slow.

Jack's feet hit the ground as he gained a burst of speed, launching him past the missiles and forcing him to only deflect a few dozen rounds, his blade not being dented in the slightest.

The machineman before him was large, perhaps eight feet tall, but that simply meant that he was a bigger target.

'Only vital signs emanate from the head and the chest.'

With a perfect diagonal slash, the augmented man fell to the ground in pieces.

Jack looked around as people silently stared. Bodies littered the street, sparks dancing across the pools of blood.

'At least 23 dead, probably double that injured…'

He sheathed his sword, not even bothering to wipe it of his adversary's remains.

The whirring of a helicopter's rotor blades reached his sensors, and a spotlight shone upon him.

"Give up! You're under arrest!" came the voice of the MaxTac officer as he silently prepared to fry this cyberpsycho's systems.

"Fools… Late at that." Jack muttered.

Sending his grappling hook out towards a nearby lamp post, he did what ghostrunners did best, running before anyone could even notice he was gone.

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Maine put the remote on the table after pausing the recording. "You think it's the same guy from that Animal hideout, Lucy?"

"I can't be sure…" the white-haired beauty answered, "But probably. You want me to look into him a bit?"

"If anything, Kiwi can do a bit of digging, but I'd recommend you stay far away from whoever that is."

Lucy scoffed, "Since when are you being cautious about just one merc?"

The man pointed at the displayed video, "You're telling me you could've dealt with that psycho in 20 seconds flat? Hell, I would be cautious around a chrome head like that, never mind just jumping on top of him."

"That was quite a jump, but I'm more interested in his implants. What in the world could be in his body to let him move that quickly? Certainly no normal Sandy, not even the one you ordered."

"No clue, but you know what they say."

"Only a cyberpsycho or Maxtac can take down a cyberpsycho, yea, I remember. That doesn't change the fact that this guy protected bystanders. No corpo or psycho would do that."

"So what, Valentino or vigilante?"

"Could be either. I'll keep my distance from him, though I'm sure we'll run into him eventually."

"I just hope he doesn't lose it. A choom with chrome like that could be more than the Taccies could deal with, if they could even catch him. Still, what's a guy like that doing on Valentino territory… You think he's working for them?"

"For them, with them, could be either. They never were ones for implants, but you're telling me they would not take in a merc like that when they step on their front door?"

"Of course they would, like anyone. Let's just stay away from them, and if Faraday asks us for info, we stay quiet."

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

David watched the report of the battle on his in-built digital display. 'Yeah… I may need more than a Sandy if I want to do things like that.'

A Sandy was a powerful tool, straining on the mind and body, but providing an appropriate level of power in exchange. Still, without any other implants, it was just one piece of the puzzle, and thus he was heading over to Doc to check out the prices for decent gorilla arms. Oh! Or he could maybe get ripper blades? Those always looked sick.

He exited the metro and for a brief second he swore he saw a familiar white-haired figure appear. "Okay… Weird." he muttered under his breath, continuing to walk forward.

This district was as familiar to him as the back of his hand, and with his Sandy he could afford to take the more dangerous shortcuts. He turned the corner to a dingy alley, a pleasant voice calling out to him as he did so.

"Hey, looking for some work?"

Out from behind a dumpster appeared a stunning woman with white hair, dressed in a less than modest outfit.

David immediately cut to the chase, "You're the one that's been following me."

The girl shrugged, "Maybe. Hard not to notice someone with the back of their jacket stained with blood. You got a Sandy installed recently, didn't you?"

"What's it to you?"

As beautiful as the girl was, David couldn't afford to be careless. For all he knew, he was about to get his ass jumped and the implant ripped from his body.

"I was just wondering if a guy like you could even use that thing." She took out a cigarette seemingly from out of nowhere, taking a long drag from it, "Because if you can, I could use someone like you for a job or two."

Suddenly, the cigarette in her hand was gone, David now holding it. "Good enough for you?"

The girl smirked, "Plenty. Follow me if you wanna get in on a decent gig."

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Padre looked at the approaching figure of Jack, welcoming the machineman with open arms. "Ah! I was just about to send for you! A celebration is in order!"

"Why? I had no active job from you, and the others already had the payments go through." Jack said, sitting down opposite of the fixer.

"Come on, you must know what I'm talking about." the man said, prompting the ghostrunner to shake his head in denial. Sighing, Padre continued, "You dealt with that cyberpsycho on our turf. If not for you, dozens more would have died. Not to mention that you had the common sense to not bother the Taccies, so they have no reason to mess with us either."

"23 people died during that assault. This is not the time for celebration." Jack said, his robotic voice betraying his irritation.

"You deal in shedding blood but think 23 is a bad number? Please, this is the smallest of casualties in a cyberpsycho attack in… forever. Besides, even if you feel bad about it, I still owe you for saving those on my turf."

"Then tell me what a cyberpsycho is, and how to recognise them. This one just began killing at random. If I am to bring 23 down to a more acceptable number, I need to be proactive."

As good as the reaction time of a ghostrunner was, relying on it would only lead to failure. Last time he purely relied on that, he nearly got his head pierced by a plasma rifle… Some keys really were no joke back in Dharma Tower.

Padre leaned back, crossing his arms, "Unfortunately, I don't have a perfect answer to this. Cyberpsychos are what those like you turn into once you get too much chrome in you, can't exactly recognise them. Frankly, I'm surprised you aren't one."

'An excess amount of cybernetics is positively correlated with cyberpsychosis, got it. Ratio of flesh to metal should serve as an accurate indicator.'

"Do you really not know what psychos are? Where are you even from?" Padre inquired. While the Valentinos accepted everybody nowadays, they did used to be quite selective concerning matters like ethnicity. Besides, a man like this could hardly just wander out from the slums.

"Dharma Tower." the ghostrunner answered, deciding to withhold any details. After all, how the hell would he even explain his appearance here.

The atmosphere in the restaurant immediately tensed up, all gazes turning to Jack.

"A tower? You wouldn't happen to be a corpo, would you?" Padre asked, cautiously eyeing the man. If he was Militech or Arasaka… that would at least explain his tech.

"No. I'm after the one who ran that place. Mara, the keymaster. I'd appreciate any information on her."

The heavy atmosphere dissolved like snow in the 2030s when the Green Acts were repealed. Any man going after a corpo like that had balls, in this case probably literally of steel, and that was something anyone could appreciate.

"The keymaster? Hmm… Can't say I've heard. You must be from abroad, right?"

If there existed someone good enough to make what seemed to be a competitor to Smasher, then Arasaka and Militech would've combined forces just to shut them down. Given that the city was still standing and Padre hadn't seen Smasher rip through half the districts, this keymaster being abroad was the only reasonable option.

"You could say so…"

Where was Dharma Tower even located? Probably somewhere in the America's, but chances are the burst ripped the continents apart, so Jack's statement was very technically true. Or at least he guessed it was.

"Is this level of chrome normal there? I've never really travelled much. Night City born and raised, and it's not like it's cheap to travel either. Unless you're a nomad I suppose, but I can't just leave this place."

"Understandable. As for me, I'm the last one like this." Jack said, guessing once more. For some reason it was only his killswitch that malfunctioned,

"You don't seem too sad about that." the fixer said, raising an eyebrow. Much could be said of a man that ran purely on implants and didn't care about his fellows…

"I never knew the other ghostrunners." the machineman answered, "Or at least I can't remember them. Everything past a certain point is… blurry.

"I see…" Padre leaned back, motioning to one of his men who quickly put a bag in front of Jack.

"These are…?"

"Immunosuppressants, nearly military grade. We Valentinos don't deal much with augments or the Net, but it's the least I can do for dealing with that psycho, especially given how I'd rather you stay sane as well."

Jack took out one of the vials, inspecting it. "These need to be injected into the bloodstream; I can't use them." Jack said, pushing the bag back to Padre, "I appreciate it though."

"Wait, you mean to tell me you're a full cyborg?" Padre asked as the atmosphere tensed once more.

"I am a ghostrunner, and therefore lack the biological functions that necessitate the use of immunosuppressants." Jack calmly answered.

The genius of the Architect led to ghostrunners being fully self-sustaining. Unless Jack once again had his systems fried by a malfunctioning killswitch or fell down an entire megastructure, he could function indefinitely. Sadly, the Architect also didn't consider letting his best soldiers enjoy things like eating.

'No blood? Then… The only borg I ever heard of was Smasher, and he's, well, Smasher. Just who am I dealing with?' Padre asked himself.

"Let me ask you a simple question. Why did you kill that psycho?"

"Isn't it obvious? He was slaughtering innocent people." Jack answered, slightly tilting his head to the side? Just what was his employer getting at? Him having an ulterior motive perhaps?

"So you wanted to save them?"

"Yes."

"Hmm…" Padre drained the wine that sat in front of him, "Do you know about Adam Smasher?"

"How does this relate to the previous question?"

"Just answer."

"No. I have no recollection of anyone named Adam Smasher."

"Well, he's the only full man-turned-cyborg I know. Bastard is probably all chrome by now… He was apparently always inhuman, and good people don't stay sane with the amount of tech you're running. Anyone that is even close to being like him is either already a monster, or will soon be one."

'Adam Smasher… High probability of him posing an actual threat. If he is so enhanced then I understand the comparisons… Hmm, I need additional information.'

"Show me your hand." Padre said, with Jack complying. The fixer stared at it intently for what felt like an eternity, eventually saying, "Wow, you aren't even shaking, despite the chrome."

"Why would I shake?" the ghostrunner asked, giving himself a quick once-over to see if there were any outer malfunctions his systems somehow missed.

"It's an early symptom of losing it, but I guess you're just different."

"Maybe." Jack said, shrugging.

"Alright, I'll trust you, and you've done good work, so how about one more test?"

"Test?"

"To be an honorary member of the Valentinos of course. After that stunt with the psycho, we know you got the guts for fighting, but do you have the guts to go after a bigshot? Not that keymaster you mentioned, but another one."

"Who's the target?"

Padre slid a picture of a middle-aged, asian man across the table. "Decently high-up Arasaka-affiliated bastard."

"What'd he do?"

"Better question is what he didn't do. Stepped on our turf, had some of our own killed, even kidnapped some of us. Normally these types are untouchable, but…"

"But I have no obvious connection to the Valentinos at the moment and could pull it off quickly."

"Precisely."

Jack stayed silent for a moment, calculations running through his head. "250,000."

'Cheaper than I expected.' Padre thought to himself, extending his hand to the seemingly sane cyborg, "It's a deal."

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"I didn't expect an Arasaka kid like you to actually be able to pull this off, nevermind use a Sandy that much." the girl David had come to know as Lucy said, accepting the chips he just snagged.

"How'd you know? I was in the academy, but got my ass expelled after beating up one choom."

Lucy tapped the side of her head, "I've got some implants of my own, you know? Anyway, you wanna maybe go for a bigger fish?"

"10 chips ain't enough for you? Alright, I like your style. Who's up next?" David asked, ready to show off in front of the girl once more.

His companion pointed at a man, or rather a group, seated at the far end of the metro, a place reserved for proper corpos.

David gulped, seeing that a few of the guards there dwarfed even the Animal Lucy bailed him out from, "A-Are you sure that's a good idea?" he asked, "Maybe there's someone else you got your eyes on?"

"Don't tell me you're backing out now?"

"No, it's just that uh…"

"That what?"

"Nevermind, let's do this."

"Hurry up then." Lucy said, grabbing onto a railing as the tube came to an abrupt stop, "He's already leaving."

David glanced at the corpo and his guards, steeling his resolve. He stepped out from behind them, entering the rich part of town he'd normally avoid. Everything had a pristine sheen to it, and it just felt wrong. What was a metro station without at least one junky at the corner?

Following behind the group with Lucy walking a few dozen metres behind him, he quickly formulated what some would call a strategy.

'Okay, seven guys total. Just weave in and get out, same as with the others.'

Walking faster and faster, until he was only a hair's width away from entering the zone in which the bouncers would count him as a threat, he activated his Sandevistan.

The world slowed down as his body was pushed far beyond its limits for the 8th time that day, but before he could reach his target, he saw a familiar figure blitz through the area.

'Huh?! What's he doing here?!'

Putting its sword to its free palm, the figure swung in an arc, sending out some odd sort of wave that bisected all six guards of the corpo, and the man himself.

David just barely moved out of range, dodging backwards.

Time returned to its normal flow as the effects of the Sandy wore off, the hooded figure standing amidst the bodies.

"Are you alright!?" Lucy asked, running up to David as he fell on his ass and scrambled away.

The one who perpetrated the brief massacre glanced at the two as alarms began to sound, the entire area locking down and turning red.

"Code C! Code C!" the speakers repeated.

"So you did snap since last night!" the girl yelled, attacking the psycho before he could become like the one he killed in the plaza the day before.

"Lucy, no!" David called out, but it was too late. His companion sent out her mechanical garrote wire, trying to land a hit on the machineman in front of them.

Slicing the chords apart with ease, the attention of the figure turned to the automated turrets that were just deployed from the ceiling. Equipped with armour piercing and made for crowd suppression, they were no joke.

"Shit! Lucy, let's move it!" David instantly yelled, watching in horror as the barrels of one of the turrets turned towards them.

"Where the hell to?! This whole place is in lockdown because of this psycho!" Lucy answered, trying to think of a way to first deal with the machineman in front of them. Maybe she could short circuit him and get away?

Not paying attention to anyone besides itself and ignoring the duo, the figure dashed towards the reinforced steel door. Despite the damn thing being built to contain literal killing machines, it proved to offer little resistance against the sword of what Lucy was beginning to suspect was a complete cyborg.

Before she could react, David's Sandevistan blazed to life, the surroundings changing so quickly she felt her head spin, though the fact that she was now outside did help a bit.

"We actually made it…" David muttered, "I told you not to-"

A thud echoed out as metal and flesh hit the floor, Lucy finding the young man to be out cold.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

"The kid didn't even know about immunosuppressants and he could use the damn thing that much? Who the hell is he!?" Maine asked, leaning backwards and sinking into the old couch.

"Turns out he's the son of Gloria."

Maine lowered his glasses just enough to reveal his cybernetic eyes, "What did you just say?"

"You didn't see the things Kiwi dug up? She was tracing that cyborg thing through the Net, and turns out that Gloria died in a car accident. This kid is her son, and apparently that machine guy saved his ass."

"That… fucks with things a little."

"Maybe, but I think the kid's got potential."

A moment of silence encompassed the small apartment, the look on Maine's face telling Lucy everything she needed to know.

"I'm serious!"

"Listen, I know we owe Gloria, she was one of our own, but the best thing that kid can do is hand over the Sandy and live a normal life."

"Just give him a chance. With immunosuppressants, he'll definitely be useful!" Lucy said, "Come on, he used it more than like half a dozen times. You think you could do that?"

"Yes, but fine, I'll consider it. If he turns out useless though, I'm ripping that thing out of him. Stealing a basic implant would've been one thing, but taking my military-grade Sandy? That kid's gonna have to learn a tough lesson."

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

"The suspect, whom some have begun to call the 'Ghostrunner', managed to kill all accompanying bodyguards alongside Sir Ichikawa within the blink of an eye. This same suspect is believed to have dealt with a cyberpsycho just yesterday. Here are the videos." the reporter on the display said, the feed quickly cutting away to recordings of Jack.

"Woo! Get his ass!"

"Slice him!"

A myriad of voices echoed out in the restaurant, with Padre chuckling as he rewatched the recordings. "You know, that video will never cease to amaze me. Just what kinda goddamn chrome do you have?"

"It's classified." Jack answered. Despite how rarely he could use his strongest abilities, they certainly were cards that would be best kept close to his chest. Just telling people that he could fire waves of superheated plasma was… ill advised at best.

"Fair, fair. But if you ever need an oil change or something, come around." Padre joked, "Or if you ever think of a downgrade, I could recommend you a doc or two."

"I actually will be going for a while. I thank you for the jobs, however, I need to find netrunners."

"Netrunners? What for?"

"Let's call it unfinished business."

"Ah, revenge. Against that keymaster you mentioned, right? I would tell you to seek inner peace and God, but, well, my priestly days are long gone."

Jack chuckled, "I appreciate the sentiment, Padre."

The ghostrunner stood up and walked towards the door, being met with exclamations of disappointment as the Valentino Superstar left.

"Just remember that you're welcome here anytime! You're one of us now!" Padre called out as the door closed, Jack disappearing from view.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

Kiwi wandered through the streets of Night City. Given her… reputation amongst those who knew her, and her lack of it to those who didn't, she went unbothered. Walks outside were relaxing, even if the air quality was less than stellar. Not like it mattered to her, since most of her face was synthetic and covered by a mask anyway.

Still, no matter how shitty the outside world got, walking through it would always be a hell of a lot better than trying to stroll through the Net. Jumping through and disarming traps, having to deal with the dreadful coldness, or knowing that there always was a non-zero chance of being stuck there…

Netrunning was not a good time.

Nevertheless, it paid. In a world where money was everything, what else could you ask for? If you want some cushy job, get one in an office and try to climb the corpo ladder, only to get kicked by those above you and fall to the very, very bottom.

Preferring to stick to her current profession, she developed a few bad habits. One of them was randomly snooping around in people's lives. As someone who short-circuited thugs for a living, it was a natural habit to develop.

She glanced at someone and their life was laid bare. It was one reason why she enjoyed walking outside so much. Most people didn't have implants and firewalls good enough to last more than a few seconds, and it provided quite a bit of entertainment.

Her eyes jumped from one target to another, analysing the passing curiosities and moving on just as quickly. For a while, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Some people had defences good enough to dissuade her, but that was expected.

However, eventually she looked at a hooded figure in front of her. There was… nothing. It was not even pitchblack, but more so the complete absence of anything, as if she was blinded. No firewalls popped up, no alerts, just an endless expanse.

She slowed her pace, staying behind the figure and following them. They must have been some bigshot, given that their arms were fully mechanical, yet even the most hardcore chromeheads she'd dealt with never had anything like this. It was… intriguing.

If she were to stay ahead of the curve, survive and thrive in Night City, she needed to get to the bottom of this. Without getting into a full ice bath, she probably couldn't get too much, but for now only a crumb of information would suffice.

She delved deeper, narrowly avoided street lights as she focused fully on trudging through the vast expanse of whatever this place was.

Turning into a darker alley, she kept pushing, her implants doing all they could to illuminate the digital space.

Yet as she saw a light in the metaphorical tunnel of this off cyberspace, a voice echoed in her head.

'Such primitive technology… You truly expected to crack through anything more than the bare surface with this? You already expected too much then.'

Her breath quickened as she realised it wasn't she who was doing the hacking, it was something else. Before she could realise just how grave the consequences of her actions were, her legs froze in place and her body refused to move.

'What?! I don't even have implants there!' she yelled inside her own mind.

'Don't be so loud, such a thing is child's play for me. Now let's see: worse Mantis X implants, subpar replacements to a biological mouthpiece, and your processing can't even match a basic Hammer member… You wouldn't even be worthy of the base.' the voice spat.

'Who are you?' she asked, hoping to at least get some insight on her adversary, even if such a hope was naive at best.

'Somebody you shouldn't worry about. I should, however, thank you. If not for your poor attempt at a cyberattack, I may have remained dormant for a while longer. Just for that, I won't fry your systems on the spot. Run along now, before I change my mind.'

The very second she regained control of her body, Kiwi ran back to her apartment, fueled purely by adrenaline and fear. Just who the hell was that!?

Meanwhile, the Architect AI chuckled. If not for a fool like that, he may have stayed offline for a while longer.

Unfortunately, he could feel his systems blur and his energy run out.

'Seems like I don't have much time… At least I left a backdoor.'

Slowly but surely, he would return to his full capacity, and then use his Ghostrunner to save humanity. Again. The Tower would rise, and his plans would be set in motion.

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

Matsuo Osamu just started his work at Arasaka! And it was just such an exciting opportunity! One of his distant uncles decided to help him, and now his first week in the research division was in full swing.

First things first, he was supposed to get some documents from the basement. This tower was one of the ones that had such a thing, but it still remained only one elevator ride away,

He stepped out into the basement, wandering through the old archives. Apparently one of the bigshots wanted something so old that it was still stored and written on paper! How crazy is that?

As he turned the corner, a metallic hook grabbed him by the neck, pulling him closer to a figure that was hidden in a dark corner of the archives.

Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a woman with various implants, most of which glowed an ominous red.

"What year is it?" she asked, the grip of her implant on Matsuo's throat lessening to the point where he could cough up an answer.

"W-What?" he tentatively asked, unsure as to what he heard.

"You heard me. What year is it?" she repeated.

"2076, m-ma'am."

"So it worked."

'I may not have Adam's technical abilities, but it seems that they sufficed…'

"Take me to whoever leads this place. There is something urgent I need to tell them."

She threw the man away and across the room as he scrambled back to the elevator.

"Hopefully they won't call down their entire security force." Mara mumbled as she randomly picked out a few documents.

Wherever she was now, before she could do anything else, there was one mechanical loose end left to tie up, and hopefully some kind samaritans would lend her their help, in exchange for her expertise.

Pa tr e on DOT com / EdgyTheWriter

(AN: Hey, cooked up something a little different, since Ghostrunner is actually a good cyberpunk game made by a studio in my home country of Poland, and since Edgerunners gave me an itch to write something like this. For those who don't know me: hey, I write Overlord fics mostly, check them out. We'll see if this turns out to be more than a one shot. Also, shoutout to my boy hackslashbask who writes the amazing fic [Fallen Down] and beta read this, check him out. As always, hope you've enjoyed the story.)