Noosphere
Warhammer 40k X Cyberpunk 2077/Edgerunners


The soul of the Machine God surrounds thee.
The power of the Machine God invests thee.
The hate of the Machine God drives thee.
The Machine God endows thee with life.
Live!

- The Litany of Ignition


Frank silently sat in his Combat Cab as he drove down Ringroad N, the traffic currently a trickle due to the timing as dull street lights fawned over the interior. Briefly, his eyes glazed over to the dispatch, making sure it was correct.

PICKING UP CLIENT

It was late, his body running more on coffee and fumes than actual senses, the retired NCPD peering out the window with tired eyes.

Watson.

Fucking Watson.

The northside was a district of bad luck, infested with Maelstrom freaks. And yet, he accepted the pick-up. Maybe he wanted a change of scenery, maybe it was his stubbornness.

Maybe he was just tired.

Reaching to the side, he flicked on the stereo, only for the old machine to sputter and die out, a clear needing for a replacement as he snorted, clicking it back off before pulling off the Ringway and into Northside, now driving through the desolate streets, keeping a watchful eye for any laser sights or scope flashes. Finally, he pulled up next to the gates of an abandoned factory on Industrial Street, getting a peek at his client who stood beneath a blinking street light...

He was in for a weird night.

The figure had to stand a foot taller than the average person, covered head to toe in frayed red robes with white cloths at its ends which did a good job of concealing their body, all while holding an object that stood just as tall as they did in their right hand. What cybernetics Frank could see were ones that'd make chrome jock blush, weird additions that distorted the human form, ranging from an extra pair of limbs resting behind their back, hydraulic and tube-like in nature, hinting more hidden oddities beneath their robes. He was armored too, with advanced metal plating encompassing his chest and shoulders, emblazoned in the middle with a symbol he could not yet see.

He parked his car by the sidewalk, peeking at the rearview mirror as the client reached out, a glint of dark metal digits flashing as they grasped the handle before pulling and opening the door. Frank was silent as he watched, noticing them stoop in, alongside the revealed item held in their hand.

A literal halberd.

His eyes slightly widened at the archaic weapon, the head a cross between an axe and a monkey wrench on its respective sides, the semi-circle centerpieces ornate with half of a leering skull with a sharp spear atop it. Power chords ran from the head to the haft, indicating that perhaps it was not as antiquated as first assumed, connected with a sort of integrated battery. They hefted the weapon over their lap, sitting calmly in the middle seat, Frank not able to make up much beneath their hooded robes, except for the glow of a green lens on the right side of their shadowed face, as well as an exposed arm with visible tubes running from beneath the skin, implemented with cybernetics he had never seen before, ones that'd probably be refused by a Ripperdoc.

As for that symbol on his chest? Similar to the one on the weapon, depicting a skull, half borged out with cybernetics.

"... Where to?" Frank asked.

There was a pause.

And then they spoke, masculine voice, filtered yet heavily amplified via electronics, European possibly? It was hard for Frank to tell even with his former detective sense.

"Longshore Street."

Was this guy serious? Not one person he had ever picked up from Watson ever wanted to stay for long in the Northside, any sane person would always want to get the fuck out. Nonetheless, he nodded, activating the meter before stepping on the pedal, ignoring the cold feeling underneath his skin as that green lens burned into the back of his head. Admittedly, he hated the talkative clients, his favorite being the ones to never open their mouths during a ride.

Here, he wished the guy would just say something, anything.

Peering at his stereo, Frank reached to activate it, only to remember upon turning it on that the damn thing was broken, still a sputtery electronic mess.

"Predictable. That simple Vox-caster has an upset Machine Spirit. Despite being made by human hands, it lacks the observances in its creation."

It took Frank a few seconds to comprehend what the fuck the robed gonk even said to him. "Huh... that so." He responded cooly, keeping both hands on the wheel.

Frank was sure of it now.

This guy was probably on a MaxTac watchlist.

To his hidden chagrin, he noticed the red-robed man stoop forward, plain steel hand open, revealing subtly advanced wiring within the cybernetics. "Forgive my forwardness, but may I enact the litany of ignition and recreate it anew? It shall help in appeasing the angered spirit."

"Please just stay the fuck away from me and don't touch my shit."

That very sentence would have been the first words out of Frank's mouth had it been any other client, but here he just couldn't even get a word out of his mouth, instead staring dumbly as the mysterious client managed to dislodge the stereo without a single hint of hassle, one of those hydraulic arms hanging over his shoulder suddenly whirring to life and animating as it turned and furrowed the intricate workings within the broken stereo, all the while the man spoke in a low and hushed tone.

Only for Frank to realize that the man wasn't even speaking words.

It was morse code, emitted as a set of low-toned beeps of binary, the electronic signals almost akin to chanting if such a thing were possible. It should have been a freaky experience, the only source of light being from the passing street lamps and his car dashboard.

So why the hell did the atmosphere feel so calm all of a sudden?

Even his implants felt less sluggish, his old sandevistan that he had 'procured' in his NCPD days felt much lighter, the engine of his Chevillon now purring much more softly than usual. Frank felt great, better than great, noticing the man slip the stereo back in place, murmuring as he did so.

"Be one with the motive force."

Suddenly, the stereo was on and without a hitch, blaring the latest trash on the air. Frank briefly peered down at it before turning his attention back to the road. "... Don't know what the hell you did, but it's working now..."

The man was now silent, head turned to the window before speaking up. "You may stop here."

He did as commanded, taxi coming to a halt by the curb. The man slowly got out, bringing his giant halberd with him, yet not before turning back around one last time, hand still grasping the door handle.

"Would it be possible for you to wait here for me? You can continue to increase the meter in my absence."

Frank raised an eye before shaking his head. "Sorry, Choom, but no can do." He faced toward the road, "Soon as you let go of that handle, you finish being my client."

The robed man understandably nodded, "Logical and efficient, I admire that."

He then let go, turning to an abandoned shipping area, his back turned to reveal even more pairs of those arms, tentacle-like in nature as they seemed to move with a calm mind of their own.

Frank quietly watched as he left, ending the meter and extracting his digital eddies

All the while wondering why he hadn't stepped on the pedal yet.


David walked proudly amongst the crew, a newly spray-painted and stylized ER symbol on the back of his mother's medical jacket.

Proof that he was an Edge Runner now.

They had recently finished clearing out a Maelstrom hideout, the occupants in question having gotten on the wrong side of a fixer. With the bloody mess done and dealt with, they were now on their way to their vehicles, walking past a few shipping containers as Pilar joked around, the members engrossed in banter as he smiled along.

Until a thrown pipe landed in front of the group, almost hitting Pilar as the techie cursed. "Yo! What the fuck!?" He yelled in outrage.

David blinked, turning to the side to see the culprit, a figure slouched in tattered clothes, silently sifting through something on the ground. It was a homeless person, a very common sight in night city, the haggard man tossing away another piece of metal as he continued his unknown search.

"Just some homeless guy." Dorio noted, "Definitely gonked out of his mind..."

"Yep." Kiwi agreed, the rest of the group continuing on as David stayed behind, watching as Pilar grew frustrated.

"That shit you threw almost hit me! You gonna apologize or what, Choom!?"

The homeless man gave no response, instead continuing to scrounge as Pilar came up to him.

"Hey, you even listenin' to me!?" Pilar then came up to the man, "Who the fuck do you think you are, throwing shit around like that!" The techie then scoffed before seemingly noticing the man's features, David too far away to see. "Woah! What the fuck happened to your face, Choom? That a face-tat or a brand!?"

David quietly watched, now tempted to come up to Pilar and tell him to give it a rest before his foot unknowingly nudged against the pipe on the ground. Looking down, he was about to kick it away, only to pause upon noticing something.

It wasn't a pipe.

Stooping lower, his eyes slowly began to widen.

It was cyberware, one that was meant for a foot, the delicate machinery now covered in blood.

"What...-?" David looked up, about to call out to Pilar only to notice another thing.

Pilar was gone, the homeless man now alone as he began to stand, now crunching something in his teeth. David felt his breath hitch, his body growing ice cold as his limbs simply refused to move.

Mainly because the man had slowly turned his head, revealing the 'tattoo', a brand depicting a circle pierced with a set of 8 arrows that faced away... an 8-pointed star that felt hard to look at. David was briefly distracted by a glint of gold as the man chewed on something in his mouth before spitting it out, smiling as his skin seemed to turn into a machine gray alongside his cybernetics, face literally melting into gooey sludge as it shifted into something far, far worse.

And as for what it had spat?

A finger from Pilar's cyberhands.

David's sandevistain activated on instinct, yet even despite that, he found himself unable to move, watching this nightmare unfold right before his wide eyes in slow motion, the homeless man's chest cavity opening bit by bit to reveal a gray mass of sharpened teeth and winding tentacles. The thing then lunged forward intent on devouring him whole as his legs finally woke up, rushing him out of the way as he tumbled to the side.

It crashed onto the ground where he was, body shifting further as his clothes turned to the same gooey matter, now without an exact form. David stared, wide-eyed as he backed away frantically, the thing beginning to turn.

He turned tail and ran, fumbling with his pistol as he desperately yelled out.

"Maine! MAINE!"

The group, having walked ahead, was just turning around as David literally rushed into the bigger man, panting as Maine turned his head. "David? Fuck's gotten into you?"

"Pilar!" David struggled to speak, the other members of the crew began to gather around. "He's-!"

And then they all received a call.

From Pilar.

David blinked, hearing Pilar's voice as the techie spoke out. "What the hell, David? Why'd you bale out on me back there, Choom?"

They turned to see Pilar in the flesh, walking from the shadows. Lucy rolled her eyes, responding in kind as she began to walk toward him. "What took-took you so long?"

"Just had to show that homeless gonk who's boss."

David breathed out, eyes wide as Rebecca cut in on the now set-up group call, walking beside Lucy. "That's not the only gonk that needs to be shown a lesson, you-you fuckin' asshole."

Pilar giggled immaturely in the call, his mouth closed and silent in real life as he came closer and closer.

By this point, the boy was hyperventilating, sweat beading down his face as his fingers now rapidly tested the trigger of his pistol. Had he been seeing things before? Just what the hell was going on?

Maine seemed to notice, a look of genuine concern. "David, you good?"

That seemed to spark his adrenaline memory back, remembering how seamlessly that thing had disguised itself as a homeless man.

And how clear the answer was.

"That's not-"

'Pilar' began to distort, head and cybernetics as a spear-like shape of metallic goo formed, Lucy and Rebecca freezing up, now in attack range.

"-Pilar."

David activated his sandevistan again, mouth open as he realized just how far he was, running as fast as his legs would take him toward Lucy and Rebecca. But somehow he knew he'd be too late, seeing the creature launch a pair of quick and sharp tentacles directly toward Lucy's chest and another toward's Rebecca's head.

He screamed, soundlessly as he raised his pistol in the vain hope that his bullets would reach it before it could strike.

Yet someone had beaten him to it.

He watched as a gigantic halberd slowly slammed into its midsection from behind, deforming and slicing the abomination by the waist before igniting a reaction on the edge of the axe head, exploding out into sheer unbridled power like a shockwave. The horrific being expanded into a gooey mass before imploding, repainting a nearby shipping container gray with such force, that it literally tilted the giant metal box at a displaced angle before dropping back down.

Maine's teeth were gritted, Dorio's face frozen with shock. Kiwi peered with wide eyes as Lucy and Rebecca stepped back, only now comprehending what had just happened.

All of them were aware of the tall figure now out of the shadows before them in the place where 'Pilar' had stood, swung stance finished as they rose to full height, green lense gazing upon all of them before twirling the technological melee weapon like an extension of their body, holding it by their side. blaring strings of loud morse code that repeated in a deafening chime as David clutched his head, his inner programming working to translate it.

.-. - - . ... - .- ... / - - -. .. ... ... .. .- ... -..- / - - -. .. ... ... .. .- ... / ...- ..- .-.. - -..- / -.. . .- - ... / - - / - ... . / . -. . - .. . ... / - ..-. / - ... . / - .- -.-. ... .. -. . / -. - -.. -.-.-

Those dots and slashes changed into a readable script.

POTESTAS OMNISSIAH, OMNISSIAH VULT, DEATH TO THE ENEMIES OF THE MACHINE GOD!