The city was quite wondrous to look at during the night. Breathtaking and overwhelming, even for his optics and audio receptors to take in. Considering the city was named Night City, that felt a tad oxymoronic, but Fulgore couldn't argue with the data provided. The feed his optics took in as he moved about.

The way he felt looking up at the city from the sidewalk. Standing there, the cyborg looked up at the towering, neon buildings, plastered with adverts, writing in a foreign tongue, and so much more. It was bright enough during the day, but at night it was so much more. Like the night itself was truly alive, and having its own fun. Such an amusing thought.

"Oi, choom! You comin'?" He paused from his thoughts and turned his head. David stood at the end of the sidewalk, hands tucked into his pockets, still with a grin on his face. Riptor stood nearby, eyeing a parked car, seemingly enraptured by his reflection judging by his almost bird-like observation of the glass. That or there was something shiny in the car he wanted to get at. It was either or, with how the hybrid went about things.

"Affirmative." The cyborg turned and resumed walking, following the teen down the almost empty road. It didn't go unnoticed. "Why are the roads this abandoned during the nighttime?" he asked David.

"Eh, for a lotta reasons. Big one's cause most people in NC know it ain't smart to run around at night 'less you got somewhere to be or roll with a gang. That way they know not to fuck with you."

"Such camaraderie." Fulgore noted.

David shrugged. "Not always. Most gangs stick together cause strength in numbers. Plus, it's a lot easier to start shit when you have people to back you up when bullets start flying, and gonks end up flatlined." The cyborg gave a low hum of acknowledgement. So, they sought conflict, and used that as a catalyst to make more happen. Just made it seem even more senseless, then, but who was he to judge? He and Riptor chased after two of them just for information and went through quite a bit of collateral to get them too.

The three of them continued to walk until David came to a halt. Fulgore turned to see a run down motel ahead of them, one that looked fit for anything but a prolonged stay. Fading metal, peeling paint, run-down cars and more all tipped him off that it was a slum, but slums were usually affordable.

"Welp, here we are. One of the cheapest motels in NC…least I think." He huffed a bit, then turned towards the cyborg. "You…got a way for me to wire you these eddies, choom?" David asked.

"Negative." Fulgore shook his head.

David winced. "…we're…really gonna have to get you to doc's tomorrow. Let him hook you up with at least the basic augs. Cause…how'd you get all that done, but not a way to hold eddies? Like, I see the clipslot, but…huh."

Fulgore paused, then slowly shrugged. "It was never deemed important." He lied.

David sighed, then started walking. "Fair enough. I'll go pay for a room. You and…him stay out here." The teen walked through the sparse parking lot towards the motel's main office, leaving him and Riptor alone. He almost wished he had the ability to sigh, mostly in relief.

"Riptor," He turned his head towards the hybrid. The raptor perked up, giving a warbled grunt noise in acknowledgement. "once he gets this room for us, we need to remain put for the night. Plan our next moves accordingly. The boy's employer, Maine, has given us an offer to work with him and his crew. It will allow us to allocate some funding and get ourselves situated, but it means we will remain within Night City for a prolonged period of time. I meant to bring this up to you sooner, but you were…entertaining earlier." He clarified, in regard to his stunts earlier. Riptor gave a warbled grunt in response. "Still, this is fine with you, correct?" Riptor nodded. Despite their speech barrier, Fulgore still found it fortunate the hybrid could comprehend him regardless. Made things considerably easier. "Good. Then tomorrow, we handle the task Maine will give, after I obtain some upgrades."

"Alright, I got things handled!" David called. Fulgore turned just as the teen approached, offering him a keycard. "You two're room nine. Way at the back over there. You have the place for a weekend, so let's hope we get the whole living situation handled by then. Oh and…keep the door locked. Those gonks behind the counter gave me some bad vibes."

"Affirmative." Fulgore reached out to pluck both keycards from David's hand.

"Nova," He stepped past him and trekked down the sidewalk, heading back to his own place. "then tomorrow, we'll get you hooked up with the basic 'ware, then. Can't run around NC without 'em!" With that, he was gone, and Fulgore moved towards the motel.

"Be mindful of David's words, Riptor." Fulgore cautioned the hybrid as he followed along. "If someone pokes their head into the room who shouldn't, you know what to do."

Riptor nodded again. He almost felt sympathy for those who would try breaking in, should the hybrid catch them before he did.

The night was still so captivating. So enrapturing. So beautiful.

Fulgore sat on his bed in the two-person room, metal hands resting together as his optics were glued to the world beyond the motel room window. To the middling, outside world. From the temporary comfort of the room, safe for the night at least, Fulgore truly let his mind wander. Let himself drift as his optics focused on the city's dazzling colors. The longer he looked at them, the more familiar they felt, like he'd been somewhere to see them before, but his memory banks drew constant blanks whenever he tried his best to remember. Tried his best to answer many of the glaring questions in his mind.

Above all else rested his most pressing question. Who was he, prior to being outfitted with his extensive augmentation?

Fulgore looked down at his metal hands. He unclasped them and clenched them a few times, jutting his blades free before retracting them in the same instant. The cyborg looked over his shoulder to the other bed, where Riptor peacefully slept. He wasn't sure if it was the illusion of comfort or the considerable alcohol he drank, but the hybrid was out like a light, curled up atop the bed and silently snoring. Fulgore almost envied him; he slept peacefully, whereas the cyborg wasn't even certain he could sleep at all. At best, he could enter recharge mode. It was the closest thing he could get to sleep, and even then, he remained painfully aware he was still conscious the entire time. Still active.

Still awake.

It was all the worst parts of insomnia mixed with the best parts of sleeping. But it was all he had.

Fulgore's optics settled onto the door, and he slowly sank into recharge mode.

Maybe this time he could actually dream. Make sense of those memories that floated into his head.

Knock Knock

Fulgore's optics flickered on. The motel room was bathed in morning sunlight, and already he could hear the distant hustle and bustle of the city. Everything powered up and synced up as he exited recharge mode, as the knock to the door repeated.

"Yo, chooms! You good?" David's voice came from the other side. Fulgore slowly stood and approached it to unlock and open it for the teen. "Augh, almost thought somethin' happened to you both. I was out here for ten minutes!"

"Ten minutes…?" Fulgore looked behind himself to see Riptor still sprawled out on the bed, fast asleep. "Apologies. I figured Riptor would awaken and answer the door at some point."

"Ah, it's fine. Considering how much he drank, I'd be shocked if he got up at all today. But nah, it's no sweat."

"Good. Have you spoken to your friend about my augments?"

"Your upgrades, right? Yeah, I talked to doc. He's set to give 'em to you as soon as I get you to his shop. So, should we wake up Riptor first or…?"

Fulgore glanced over to the hybrid, then back to David. "We should. Considering his actions yesterday, I'm almost worried what will happen if he's left unattended."

"Gotcha. I'll wait outside." Fulgore stepped away from the door and approached the still sleeping hybrid.

"Riptor," He firmly said, tapping the side of the hybrid's head. "get up. We need to go—" The hybrid promptly awoke and flailed, causing him to take a few steps back. Riptor thrashed about on the bed before flopping right off and hitting the ground, darting his head about like a confused snake. "…the alcohol should be dialed back. It seems it dulls your perception." He glanced to the wall, where a long, new claw mark was etched into the wall. "…greatly dulls, it seems."

Riptor snorted.

"Shiiiit! This is some preem 'ware ya got rattlin' around in here…" Fulgore did his best to remain comfortable in the ripperdoc chair as the doctor poked around. The dingy, sketchy looking office already left him cautious, but as he sat in the chair, torso chassis opened to expose his internal cyberware, he felt even more uneased. But David vouched for the man, as sleazy as he seemed and Riptor was close by, so he ruled himself as safe, for the most part. "Now, again, you sure you need all've this? Could make some easy eddies sellin' it."

"Agh, for the last time, Doc, no!" David scoffed, seated nearby in an office chair the man normally used. "Just give him the usual stuff. The kinda shit you need to get by with in NC."

The sleazy, old doctor chuckled. "Sure, Davy, sure. Sides, your choom's here got most've it already. Had to pull out a defective behavioral chip from the chipware slot, though. Wonder how a gonk like you got that shoved in there."

"Irrelevant." Fulgore firmly said. "Just continue the augmentation."

"Right right, I gotcha. But, ah, mind tellin' me where you found a military grade zikov?" He asked, matter-of-factly. He even dropped from his jovial, amused tone to ask the sharper question. "I've seen a lotta ware come 'round these parts, but those usually come from Militech. From gonks who want military augs without the eddies, nor the brains, to make it work. Fact, where'd you get most of these augs, now that we're askin' these questions? Cause a lot of these are military grade. High end. High yield."

"Irrelevant again." Fulgore stated.

The ripperdoc sighed. "Seems pretty fuckin' relevant to me, but whatever. I ain't gettin' paid to ask questions." He set aside a few tools, and quicky closed up Fulgore's chassis. "Anyhow, I've hooked your choom here up with the standard shit. Proper chipware slots, even flicked on the scanners in his…well optics." He snickered. "I was gonna install some decent ICE, but your metal ass is already toting military grade ICE and a damn Militech Cyberdeck! Eddies or not, even I know I shouldn't mess with that." Fulgore slowly sat up, his receptors coming online, as he did a system analysis of himself. Namely, to make sure everything was where it needed to be, and nothing was taken without his consent, for the sake of David's ripperdoc.

"Well, you're all hooked up, choom," David smiled. "feel any different?"

"Integrated, but fully operational." Fulgore rose from the chair and onto his own two feet, rolling his metal shoulders. "Riptor is still occupied?"

"Yeaaaah," David glanced towards the door. "I still don't see why we couldn't let him in here, Doc."

"…Davy, I ain't even sure that's a fuckin' exotic," the ripperdoc chastised him. "so I don't want it anywhere near my shit. I got paying customers in here."

"What customers?" The teen snarked, before slipping out the door. Fulgore moved to do the same.

"Oi, tinman." The ripperdoc called. Fulgore stopped and looked over his shoulder at the scrawny, seedy man. "I'm gonna ask this once, just in case. Where'd ya get that chrome?" He asked. "I don' usually ask questions, but that's too much military-grade shit to not ask any, especially that damn Kerenzikov you got back there. Considering a good zikov could probably put a Sandy to shame. Plus, you're full borg! It's honestly baffling how you haven't gone full psycho yet!"

"…it baffles me as well." He spoke quietly, before turning to face the ripperdoc properly. To address the concerns he didn't want David to hear, apparently. "I was given these augmentations from my previous line of work, as a mercenary operating beyond Night City. Without need of the cyberware I need to survive here. That's the only answer you'll get. Don't dig deeper."

He was out the door seconds after. Riptor, as David said, sat outside the office, chewing on the meat treat David got him earlier. Seemed he was savoring his meal this time. A rare thing.

"So," David's eyes flashed; the sign that he was accessing something. In the corner of his optics, Fulgore caught a few lines of code. Contact information. "there we go, choom. I sent over Maine's number. He wanted you to call once you were chromed up the way you need to be, said something about having a quick job for you."

"Affirmative." He nodded. "I will call him and see what needs to be done."

"Great! Anyhow, I gotta run! Maine wanted me to drop something off, so I gotta head off! I'll see you two at the nightly meetup, right?" The teen was already walking, waving goodbye. Fulgore mirrored the gesture from reflex, and caught Riptor doing the same, amusingly. Before long, David was gone, and that left Fulgore to handle his directive. In an instant, he opened his contacts and dialed up Maine, as instructed to do. His audio receptors picked up the ringing noise, and a second later came the big man's voice.

"Eh? Who is—"

"Fulgore. David helped me get the required cybernetics for everyday life in Night City." Fulgore said quickly.

"Good. Running around without a damn phone's or chipslot makes shit difficult in good ol' Night City. Anyhow, David told you I had a job for you and…your friend, right?"

"Affirmative. What is our assignment?" Fulgore asked, as he began to walk. He heard Riptor spring to his feet and follow with him. Now the roads were far more populated this time. Far more occupied and active, with people roaming about the roads or driving by in fancied cars. Now with his improved augments, he scanned people subconsciously, seeing the extent of their cybernetics properly. Some had a few cyberware augments installed, but others had far more extensive ones, including synthetic organs. He even saw a woman with all four limbs replaced with sleek, cobalt blue cybernetic limbs. The extent of augmentation in Night City was vast, it seemed.

And he caught countless stares as he walked. Some gawked, some stared, and a few stared with abject horror. He recalled what David's ripperdoc mentioned, about the 'full borg conversion'. He didn't know if it was a bad thing, but with the way many stared, it was close. Or at least unorthodox. And that wasn't even covering the hybrid's status. As far as everyone knew, he was an exotic.

"Your job, yeah. It's a small gig, given by one of the smalltime Fixers. From what I've been told, the Tyger Claws are trying to make a move on Valentino stuff. Fixer wants a hard lesson taught."

"We are assisting a gang?" Fulgore questioned.

"Eh, mostly the Fixer. Seems they're working with the Valentinos, but that's not your concern. Teaching a lesson is. I'm sending you the location on where the Claws're messing around. Hit 'em hard, leave someone alive to play messenger." Kill all but one. Easy enough. If anything, the hardest part would be keeping Riptor from massacring the last one. The one who they needed to get away.

Get Away.

Fulgore paused for a second. Something about that felt…odd. Familiar. He wasn't sure. "Send the information. We will have it done within the hour."

"Nova. Get it done and call me back after. And remember, this is just a test. So, impress me." The call ended. Fulgore navigated his internal menus to reach his map, directing him to the location needed. And it wasn't far at all.

"Riptor," the hybrid stopped growling at a man and paid attention. "let's move. I will relay the job details to you en route to their location…and the caveat that we need to keep someone alive."

Riptor hissed. Somehow, Fulgore sensed disappointment.

An old auto-shop, how predictable. Fulgore and Riptor stood outside of the shoddy place, with the cyborg's optics sweeping the place, scanning it and compiling a decent battleplan. How they needed to go about the situation at hand. With how Maine worded things, they weren't in for a hard fight, but how they handled the mission would determine if they could continue to run with the man's crew and do further work for him. Already, from his initial scans, Fulgore concluded the shop had some minor "defenses" consisting of a few mines hidden behind derelict cars surrounding the place, and a few security cameras sweeping the area. It suggested that those inside were capable at the very least but were still going to die none the less.

"Riptor," he instructed the hybrid. "I'll neutralize the cameras and mines. You approach the building from the rear. When I breach, do the same. Kill all but one." Riptor hissed and started moving. Fulgore's Cyberdeck primed to life, as his optics targeted each camera, disabling each. Their ICE, predictably, was dismal, and before long both those and the mines were safely disabled, allowing him to approach the front door. The instant he was close enough, he engaged his optical camo, becoming translucent and unseen as another hack was used to force the door open, and allow him to walk inside.

"Hey! Who opened the fucking door?" His receptors and optics worked in tandem, with the former receiving the panicked Japanese and the latter presenting it as subtitles in his optics for him to understand. The auto shop was small, meant for a single car, and predictably, a few Tyger Claws were sat around, arming themselves with assault rifles and SMGs. Seemed that they were caught right before one of their incursions into Valentino territory. "You," one of the gangers motioned to another. "go close it! You're letting the cold air out—"

The wall exploded violently, sending rubble and shrapnel throughout the room. Fulgore turned his head in time to watch Riptor step into the room…holding a car door. No, holding a car door with a mine attached to it.

"What the fuck is that?!"

"It's got a fucking mine!"

"Shoot it! SHOOT IT!" Panicked shouts all around from the Tyger Claws, and Riptor flung the door at them. And predictably, it struck a man dead on, causing the mine to violently explode, gibbing three of them instantly. Fulgore wished he could sigh, as the hybrid chose to follow his own plan again. Fortunately, it worked, and the cyborg dropped his cloak, kicking up a fallen SMG and hosing two more men down with bullets. It left a final, terrified Tyger Claw. One who cowered in the corner, hands raised in surrender, and bewildered eyes jumping between the two of them.

"P-Please no! I don't even work for these gonks! I-I-I just got told to grab a gun and have some fun!" He lied as naturally as be breathed.

"Riptor," Fulgore firmly stated. "stay put. We need him alive, remember?" The hybrid hissed. "You can eat the dead ones. Leave this one alive." The hybrid gave a warbled huff and moved to gnaw on a splattered leg. The cyborg turned to approach the cowering ganger, reaching down to grab him by the front of his jacket and bringing him to eye-level. "Keep the Tyger Claws out of Valentino territory, otherwise worse will happen, understand?" He warned the terrified, sniveling man.

"O-Okay! I-I-I'll tell the boys, but they won't be happy—"

"Then make them understand, or they're next. What my friend did, that was light compared to what I've seen him do," now it was his turn to lie. Really, taking a car door armed with a mine one it is the worst thing he'd seen him do. But, at the same time, he had a hunch the hybrid was easily capable of worse if given enough time and motivation. "so, if your friends want to stay in one piece, you'll deliver my warning, and you will heed it." He flung the man away, sending him to the ground with a thud. Like a terrified bug, he stood up and scurried away, running out the front door and out the area.

"Riptor," he called to the feasting hybrid. "we need to work on your planning. What you did was reckless, senselessly so." He chastised the creature, earning a low hiss. "I'm not criticizing you. But think things through. If we are to work for Maine, it's doubtless that we'll be given more delicate work in the future," he eyed the hole in the wall. "where that could put us at jeopardy." Riptor stared for a moment longer, before giving a nod. At least he understood. "But aside from that, good work. You neutralized three instantaneously, before they had time to retaliate or shoot you, even with your regeneration. When we go on harsher jobs, bring that. It's appreciated." He encouraged the hybrid. Riptor gave another nod, his tail swishing. As dangerous as the plan was, Fulgore had to admit it was rather crafty for him to easily figure how to weaponize the Tyger Claws' own defenses against them.

For now, it was time to report in. Maine was dialed up. "Yo, Fulgore. Job's done?"

"Affirmative," he eyed the remains of some of the Tyger Claws. "and one survived to send a message, as we agreed."

"Well alright. You two're already better than Pilar when it comes to flatlining gonks. So, fuck it, you're in. Welcome to the crew." Out the corner of his optic, Fulgore saw a deposit to his onboard account. Three thousand Eurodollars for a job well done.

"Thank you. When is our next assignment?"

"Tomorrow. For now, take that and find somewhere to hole up for the day. Have some downtime. And try to clear outta there before the cops show up. Just in case they wanna try taking the corpses to a body bank." The line went dead. Fulgore stepped through the doors with Riptor in tow once more, reaching the early evening road once more, now with ample time in the day. Time to do whatever they wished. But how to spend it? What to do? He didn't expect to get free time so early on.

He eyed a floating billboard, depicting a holographic phone. He eyed Riptor, and an idea came.

"…you want what?" Fulgore stood with crossed arms, staring at the clerk behind the counter. In a run of the mill phone store, the cyborg watched confusion arc across the young lady's face, trying to make sense of what Fulgore asked.

So, he needed to repeat. "Cyberaudio, but as a handheld device. Not an implant." He tried to word it as best he could with limited understanding of the very jargon he used.

"Um…I mean…why?" She asked, then leaned to the side. "For…him?" Fulgore followed her gaze to see Riptor staring at a screen, almost transfixed by the colorful images on the screen. The cyborg didn't feel like telling him he was just watching a commercial for Ni-Cola.

"Affirmative." Fulgore returned his eyes to her. "An exotic with no cyberware compatible with typical Cyberaudio," he lied for his friend once again. "so, I need something that works without it."

"Um…I think…?" She delved into the back for a moment. Fulgore remained at the front counter, scanning things quietly and surveying the store—

His ICE detected an attempted intrusion. His optics whirled towards someone standing on the opposite side of the road. A man dressed in a trenchcoat, with a hat pulled over his head. Even under it, Fulgore could see his eyes flickering. He was trying to hack him.

So, he returned the favor instead, and struck him with a Short-Circuit. "Riptor," the raptor looked up. He pointed to the trenchcoat man, who spasmed in place, clutching the side of his head. "bring him here." The hybrid exploded from his spot and out the door. The man looked up just in time for the hybrid to tackle him to the ground. Distant screams rang out for only a moment, before Riptor dragged him back and dropped the man to the ground. "Thank you." Optics dropped to the man. "Who are you?"

"I-I'm no one," he spoke, hands raised in surrender. "j-just a Solo—"

"Trying to breach my ICE, apparently. So, you were after me for a purpose. What is it?"

"Look, we can talk this ou—" He pulled a gun from his pocket. Riptor's tailblade stabbed into his shoulder, causing him to cry in pain and tip his arm upwards, sending a bullet through the ceiling. "FFFFUCK!"

"You should have anticipated that." He reached down to grab the man by the scruff of his jacket, lifting him off his feet. Metal fingers went to his jack, and it was pushed into the side of the man's head. And like so many times before, he dove into the stranger's OS, rooting for what he needed.

And within moments, he found it. The man was a Solo, hired by Biotechnica to look for them covertly. Which confirmed his suspicions. Their creators were looking for them, but quietly. Without trying to draw attention to the fact they were loose in the first place. Probably because their buyers were in Night City, and it would alert them. He wanted to be worried, but this was a good thing. If the Solo survived, he could take a message back to them. Let them know they weren't in Night City. It wouldn't work forever, but it would buy them time to figure something out.

"Call them up," he told the man. "and tell Biotechnica that we're not here. Tell them we're in the Badlands, in a stolen truck, going westwards. Do it. Now." The terrified Solo nodded. Instead of his eyes flickering, like David's did, he instead pulled out a rectangular device from his pocket and brought it to his ear, after tapping it a few times with his metal thumb. "Hey, i-it's me…they're not here…yeah…I've checked the police records, and they say they're out in the Badlands still…not in NC…I've confirmed it…I'll keep looking, you paid me in advance…gotcha…" He lowered the device. "Alright, it's done. Biotechnica thinks you're nowhere close to NC, but it's only a matter of time before they figure that out."

"We'll address that when the time comes." He plucked the device from the man's hand. "And what is this?"

"A-An Agent. Like a phone, but better…a-and I kinda need that—"

Fulgore released him, dropping the man to unsteadied feet. "You don't. You've already done your job." Another Short-Circuit, and this time the Solo spasmed before collapsing to the ground, unconscious. Fulgore's optics scanned the Agent for a moment, silently confirming what the terrified Solo said. More importantly, it was just what he needed.

"Alright, I talked to my manager," he looked over just as the clerk walked back out. "and we don't have anything like—ohmygod…" she eyed the unconscious Solo on the ground.

"Format this," Fulgore offered her the Agent. "and upload programs that make it compatible with Cyberaudio, please." Carefully, she accepted the device, studying it like it was ancient technology.

"I-I'll see…what I can do…" she sank into the back once more. With that, Fulgore leaned against the counter, eyeing the commercial Riptor was so enamored with earlier.

"…hmm." A quiet grunt left him. "I misjudged. I can see why you like this, Riptor."

He cawed in response.

[So, back-to-back uploads. I already had this partially done a long time ago, but lost time on pursuing this further. However, with 2077 about to release Phantom Liberty and Edgerunners celebrating its one-year anniversary, it felt like the best time. I do hope I've portrayed the main cast right, and make no mistake, while this is set during Cyberpunk: Edgerunners, this story focused on Fulgore and Riptor's own adventures in Night City, and how their stories interlock and interject within the events of Edgerunners directly.

Because of that, expect some events to actively be different, and some major events may not be portrayed, because, as said, this story intersects with Edgerunners, but neither Fulgore nor Riptor will outwardly overshadow David and the others. So, let that settle things, and I thank you all for reading once again!]