There was a state in between being awake and asleep. A sort of half-conscious awareness of the world around you, where a loud noise might startle you to awareness, and you're not really dreaming, but you haven't really woken up either. A distant knowledge that you existed, and that you weren't currently under distress, and that wherever you currently were was very comfortable.

And he was currently very, very comfortable. The bed he was laying on was firm, the way he liked it. His pillow gave him a slight incline. His blanket was one of those heavy ones that pressed down on his whole body, but not to the degree that would be uncomfortable. The room was a bit chilly, but under the blanket was warm, which was well known as the best combination in the normal heat of Night City.

Man… normally he would turn the AC down, but he could do that later. He had some eddies to burn on a slightly higher cooling bill, so whatever. He'll wake up on his own time, he didn't have anything planned today, right?

…Uhh… he didn't remember, which meant probably no. If it was important he probably would've remembered it, or put it as a note in his internal agent.

Ah right, he should probably check that for messages.

David grunted sleepily as he commanded his agent to project his current messages on his eyes, without actually opening them…

Did they have an update while he was sleeping? The format was different. Whatever, it was easy enough to understand, just check his notifications…

Nothing, which meant that he didn't have to worry. He dismissed his Agent and shifted his head to stay asleep. He had lost the perfect spot he just was, so now that he was moving his head he was aware of the slight discomfort in his prone position. Damn modern technology, always depriving him of his true ultimate comfort with its incessant updates and messages.

The Inquisitors were right! Technology was evil! His sleep was now doomed to end because of it!

He grumbled as he continued to shift, struggling to find his promised dreamland again, before eventually giving up.

Groggily he opened his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to feel absolutely no… uhh… what was the name for it? The weird crusty-stuff that builds up around your eyes while you sleep. Whatever, he was too sleepy to care, it wasn't here, which meant that his awakening was even better than normal.

He peered at the room through cracked eyes. His anti-dazzle automatically compensated for the light, slowly bringing it up as he looked around and preventing any sudden pain. Chrome was useful that way, being able to handle all the little stuff most people didn't even think of. Sure the slight discomfort in the body where it met the meat was a little off putting, but you got used to that over time. Heck, he didn't even feel it right now.

…He furrowed his brows at the ceiling. He was missing something here.

He raised a hand up from under his blanket to scratch at his head. Not really because there was an itch, but out of habit.

…Man his hair was soft today. Did he use Lucy's shampoo by accident? He sniffed, not noticing the distinct scent of cotton candy, so probably not. He pondered this mystery for a moment while staring at the ceiling.

…Hmm… this wasn't his ceiling. This was a metal plated thing rather than concrete that he was used to. He wasn't currently in any danger, so there wasn't really any reason to panic immediately. He stamped down on the urge to jump up and instead let his gaze just wander around.

There were gizmos over there, gadgets over there, a computer and a swivel chair, a self and some boxes, a stairway and a door…

Yep, he knew exactly where he was now.

A place he'd never been before.

Slowly he moved to push himself up, not noticing anything obstructing him. He pushed off what he now recognized as a medical blanket, feeling at the bed that he now noticed was essentially just a slab of metal with a little cushion (but man it was comfortable metal, props to the designer there).

He yawned as he got up, shaking off the residual drowsiness as he pushed out of the…

He stared at his legs for a moment. He reached down to feel at the smooth, unblemished skin where notable lines of cybernetic joints should be. He frowned and glared at his legs, getting up entirely and taking off his underwear to look at his entire body unimpeded.

There were no familiar lines of cybernetic linkage. There was no slight itch where his limbs met torso. There was no familiar but eternal heaviness in his limbs. There was no twitchy feeling inside his arms from the stronger than normal myomer, nor any phantom finger sensations from the weapon mounts.

This wasn't his body.

He frowned. Well that was certainly not a good feeling. What was going on before he went to sleep?

The next tournament fight was today, he fought against El Tigre (cool dude overall), then they got interrupted by a strommer attacking, they ran up to Watson (got a ride in a truck), Lucy stayed to netrun stuff, he moved forwards to help the Mox.

They helped the mox, they found Smasher on the ground, they protected his body until he woke up again, they killed more strommers…

He was on a truck, bringing some back to the NCPD (who surprisingly weren't assholes this time), then he was on the truck with Falco…

…He was drugged, probably, and fell unconscious. He looked around the room again, then back to his body. He hopped a bit, rolling his joints, feeling at his muscles.

It was definitely better than what he had before. A borg frame? One of those Gemini then, the kind that Smasher has. There were two things to take note of from that.

First… Is this what being a borg felt like? He felt absolutely fine, better than fine actually. There was no uneven distribution of weight or strength across his body. There were no slight limitations in mobility in the limbs from joints not lining up perfectly. There wasn't… anything wrong with his body at all.

A dozen tiny annoyances he had grown used to were just gone now. Man, he would've gotten borg'd awhile ago if he knew that it was like this. This felt great. Or, he would've were it not for that second thing.

His expression focused into a fine and sharp glare.

A body this good doesn't come free… What the fuck did they put in his goddamn brain?

Take stock of it all, David. Did he feel like doing anything in particular?

He wanted to know what was now in his body, and where his crew was, and he wanted to deck Falco in the face.

Was any of that out of the ordinary for himself?

…No…

Hmm…

He raised a fist up to his chin, resting it on his other fist near his waist. Whatever insidious gonkshit was in his brain now, it was pretty subtle. He needed to get it checked out as soon as he broke out of here and got back.

Speaking of which, where was he?

He heard a door being opened, he looked up and stared at the footsteps coming down the stairs, he glared for a moment, and readied himself to move…

…Huh, that was that Vik guy that Smasher had meetings with sometimes.

Said Vik guy took the final step down and looked up, locking eyes with him. He raised a cool eyebrow and glanced down deliberately.

David blinked, furrowed his brow, and glanced down at himself… Oh he was naked huh?

"A little early in the morning to let it all hang loose, don't you think kid?"

Slightly sheepish, he pulled his underwear back up and wrapped the blanket around his waist. "Hey choom, did you kidnap me?" He asked, it would be kinda awkward to have to flatline this guy, he talked to him once or twice in the past. Vik shook his head as he walked into the room to put a box of stuff at the desk.

"I don't get paid to kidnap people, kid. No, your chooms brought you in a little while ago, you want to call them in while I give you a check up? Must be strange finding yourself in a new body."

"Sure, but why aren't I in 'Saka tower for this? I work for Smasher and all that." David spoke, not feeling very trustworthy yet, even as he sent a message to his crew and mom. Vik paused for a moment, turning to look at him and rubbing at his head.

"...what's the last day you remember?"

David narrowed his eyes. "I was fighting strommers up in Watson, they were going on a rampage or something…"

Vik frowned and looked down. "...Looks like you've been out of the loop for a while. That was a week ago, Arasaka tower got attacked two days ago."

A week!

…Damnit, Lucy was going to kill him. Or his mom. Whichever got to him first.

—

Lucy was the first one to get to him after he sent out the message, followed right after by his mother.

He was unsurprised when she tackled him off the table and onto the ground. His head smacked pretty hard against the ground, but he couldn't even feel it. He did feel it when she reared back and headbutted him, although she undoubtedly felt it more.

He staggered for a moment, before shaking and picking himself up, Lucy hanging off him like a limpet. He grabbed her under the armpit and lifted her up in the air amusedly.

"What was that for?" He asked, bemused and with an eyebrow raised.

"Don't get kidnapped! Gonk!" She was pretty relieved huh, if she was this willing to act out in public like this. Either that or her stress had looped all the way around to being completely carefree again. Man, she was the cutest.

He let his face twist into a mock-offense. "Wha- how is that my fault?" He shook her slightly in emphasis, her legs swaying as she went back and forth. "I can't control the rate at which I get kidnapped or not!"

Adorably, she started kicking his chest. He started laughing as she did so, bringing her in to squeeze her tightly. He leaned down to whisper in her ear as she melted against him. "Sorry about that. I'm here now."

He ignored her tiny sobs and rubbed circles into her back. He looked up to see his mom looking quite desperate but unsure of what to do.

He offered a small grin and raised an arm. She got the message and joined in the hug too.

It was a little while before Becca and Tanaka got there. When they did, Becca got her own hug and Tanaka gave him a strong clap on the shoulder, which he returned. Men don't hug, they lock arms and pat backs, common sense.

After a long round of hugs and other comforting nonsense, he sat down on the table again and started asking questions. First point of order…

"So doc… you got the deets on this body I'm in?"

Vik nodded his head, and pulled a tablet forwards to show it to him, letting him read from the thing at the end of a long mechanical arm connected to the ceiling. Lucy pressed against him and read from the same tablet as he looked through it.

"I don't know who the hell put this frame together, or how they did it, but it's practically magic to me, and I've been at this for years now. You see that red in the center? That's your biosystem, the area of your body that contains all the organs that can't be replaced. Brain, testes, stuff for hormone regulation. All those blue sections are your new organ replacements. There's an internal solid air battery that gets refilled twice a day and lasts twelve hours. There's a biofuel reactor, letting you get some energy from eating still. There's the internal batteries that keep you alive…"

"Why are there organs in my knees?" He asked, feeling quite confused by that.

"Hmm? Oh that's the walk charger, it refills your batteries as you walk, it's the thing that lets your batteries last a week instead of a day."

"Right… uhh is there anything in my brain that I don't want in there? I don't know where this body came from doc, isn't it a better idea to pull me outta this one and put me into something else?"

"Well… two things with that kid. First things first, as far as I can tell, it's all clean. Nothing in there beyond what's required to connect to your body and neuralware. I can call in some other docs for a second opinion if you want, but I couldn't find anything."

"Alright… and the second thing?"

"Well… Getting you outta that thing is gonna take surgery my lab isn't equipped for. Nowhere except in one of those corporate hospitals or Trauma Team has the tech for it, and there's a decent chance of dying in the process. I've never done it myself, and even I know it's hard stuff."

"Wait, can't you just pull my pod out?"

"That's a biopod. That's a bit more advanced, and it's not something you have already."

"Right." He was quiet as he stared at the details of his apparent new body. After a few moments, he spoke again and cut off what the doc was about to say.

"What kind of kidnapper puts me in a new body without any kind of chips or whatever? What's the benefit?" He pulled back a bit and let his baffled expression show.

That was apparently the wrong thing to say, and just about every face around him soured. He furrowed his brow as he looked around.

"What?"

After a long few moments, his mom spoke.

"...just a random maniac… that's who…"

—

It was a few hours later that he got another visitor. The others have left to let doc keep him for another day of observation (even if he had to really bargain to get them to leave his presence again for that duration, promising to give a new text message every fifteen minutes until he went to sleep).

Another set of steps came down the stairs in the middle of his idle chatting about what his new body's specs were. He turned his head to see a pair of boots step down, followed by blue jeans, then a leather belt…

Falco stepped down the stairs, wearing a stetson and with a deep frown on his face. David's own face got carefully blank as he stood up and stared him down as he approached.

Then, an arm's length away, Falco stopped moving. He stared for a moment, before reaching up…

To take off his hat, lowering it to his chest and deeply bowing his head.

"Mr. Martinez. I can only offer my sincerest apologies for what I had a part in."

There was silence for a moment. David glared at him for a while, before carefully replying.

"...Why?"

Falco kept his head lowered as he explained. "I let my guard down, and Vincent got someone to slip a zombie chip in my sockets without me noticing. I was a risk the moment I came back, and for that I deeply apologize."

A zombie chip? Quickly, he looked up what that was on his nifty new internal computer. Reading over it for a moment, he looked down at the utterly still Falco.

Before punching him in the gut.

Falco wheezed and slowly slid to the floor, admirably not holding his gut in pain and keeping his head bowed. He did have to brace himself with the other hand on the floor though.

"We're even." David said.

Falco's head shot up in baffled pain, staring at him and trying to sputter out a question. David cut him off by offering a hand up with a gin.

"You had a control chip in your brain. Why would I be mad at you for that? Still felt like punching you though, sorry about that." Falco stared for a long moment.

He started up a deeply pained chuckle and took the offered hand, rising to his feet, now finally letting himself hold his gut. "I shouldn't've expected anything else, huh? You got a mean punch, Martinez, let me tell you."

"Cmon Falco, it's David." He clapped him on the shoulder with a smile. Which then turned into a frown. "Gonna need you to do me a favor though."

Falco's eyes turned dead serious. "Whaddya need?"

"...Who's Vincent? He the one who klept me?"

Falco's face twisted into a difficult expression. It took him a few moments before he could reply.

"He was… well… Vincent was your father."

…This felt like one of mom's telenovelas. He raised a brow, and Falco started explaining.

David didn't feel great by the end of it.

Even at their lowest, a borg was superior to a human in just about every way. Even the absolute weakest borgs, the stock alpha frame, had reflexes, running speed, and strength on par with the absolute best among the meatbags. It had sensors with perfect clarity and control, it had skin strong enough to bounce bullets off of, and could take more damage than a human could ever hope to.

It had no risk of bleeding out or dying of shock, it didn't need to breathe for up to twelve hours at a time, it was practically impossible to poison through its bioreactor, and its week-long battery made it impossible to get physically tired during that entire time. All of these were objective advantages that made even the weakest borg frames strictly superior to any meatbag body.

All Adam could focus on was just how unbearably weak it was.

His strength was pitiful. His reactions were lethargic. His speed was ponderous. His armor was thin. His structure was fragile. His eyes were blind. His ears were deaf. His senses were silent.

It was much like what he imagined hell to be like. He was glad he couldn't remember what being made of meat was like, because this weaknesswas already almost unbearable. The only thing he could take comfort in was that he would get out of this pathetic shell and into a proper frame soon enough, as soon as Arasaka repaired one of his frames and finally got around to doing the paperwork to rehire him.

He stalked through the halls in a basic frame, a faceplate mounted to it with his features on it. He did not wear this while out in the city, too much of a risk of someone figuring out it was him and scrapping him then and there. This frame didn't even have a sandevistan.

Everything around him was fast and dangerous and threatening. He couldn't move nearly as fast as he was used to, stuck at the pathetic level called peak humanity. He almost decided to stay in the basement levels of Arasaka Tower for a few days until they got the new frame in, but he had shit to do.

Namely, a conversation to be had with the brat, who he had gotten a message that he woke up a while ago.

He moved with purpose, through the halls, down the stairs, and into the office space of the ripperdoc. He managed to avoid any slowdown at the receptionist desk by calling in ahead of time and informing them he was in a different body. A pathetic, weak, body that was only six and a half feet tall.

He didn't know how humans could stand it. He kept his steps muffled with counter-vibration as he moved.

He stepped into the room and stared at the interior. The doc was over to the side, typing away at his computer. The kid was on the table, dozing in his new frame.

Standing about six-foot-three, with the features familiar to the kid but slightly aged in overall shape. Instead of looking like a buff teenager with a slight baby face, he now looked like a buff man in his early twenties, but very little else was changed. He was proportional, he was decently tall, and from what Adam had been told of his new frame, he was decently strong.

It was slightly infuriating that he wasted his time looking for the kid at all, when it seems the meatfucker only wanted to borg him and promptly die for some fucking reason. Stupid plan but whatever, Adam didn't care anymore, it wasn't his concern.

He stepped forwards, deliberately making noise now. Both the doc and the brat shot up immediately, their heads shooting over to look at him and panicking for an infuriatingly short moment and relaxing soon after.

"Smasher… what's with the frame?" The brat spoke, relaxing but not quite laying down on the table again.

"Only one left. Broke the others." He replied simply and he kept moving forwards and glared down at the kid, giving him a once over.

"Yeah, heard what happened at the tower, you alright?" The kid had a strange tone of voice. Adam ignored it.

"I'm alive." He deliberately didn't think about the circumstances of this fact, and neither did Uriel.

He was alive.

He had survived the meatfucker.

…he was alive…

…Time to get back to business.

Smasher reached into the pouch strapped to his robotic thigh and pulled out five plastic chips with pictures of a rocket on them. He offered them to the kid, who took them with a look of bemusement.

"What are these?"

"Tickets."

The brat paused for a moment, before turning to look at him with a slightly baffled expression.

"What?"

"I promised you tickets to anywhere in the world at the end. That was our deal. You and your girlfriend have been jabbering on an on about the fucking moon. Here's five tickets to the moon from the local launch station."

The brat's face turned carefully blank as he stared at him, before turning his gaze to look down at the tickets. He was silent for a long few moments.

"You were training me for backup…"

"And you weren't there. Backup that's not around is worthless brat."

The brat sputtered for a moment. Waving his hands in gesticulation. "I was klept! I can't control that!"

Adam tilted his head and let his face scrunch in confusion. "Shouldn't you be happy brat? You and your chooms get to leave. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Yes! No! I dunno! I-..." The brat trailed off, staring at the tickets for a while. "I didn't think it would end like this, y'know?"

Adam snorted. Neither did he and look where he fucking was. "You're free kid, go do what you want."

He turned to walk out of the doc, steps echoing in the room.

"Wait." the brat's voice stopped him. He turned around and stared at the kid, who was still looking at the tickets.

"You said… you said a man is his word, right? That's what separates men from meat, right?"

Adam glowered. "I did. Why?"

The brat's face turned up from the tickets, and he stood up and raised a finger. "One year."

There was another brief silence before the brat continued. "Our deal was one year of training, then I'd be free to go."

His face grew a cocky grin to match his determined glare. The brat raised the five plastic tickets in both hands and tore them in half, letting the scraps fall to the floor.

"It's only been six months. Nice try, Smasher, but you're not getting rid of me that easily. I intend to get my time's worth out of you."

Smasher stared at the brat for a few moments. He looked down at the scraps of the tickets on the floor, before slowly returning his gaze to the brat's determined grin.

…this felt nostalgic, and he couldn't pin down why.

Adam huffed. "...Alright… Six more months brat. No backing out of it now."

The brat almost collapsed into a relieved expression. Adam didn't know why. His gaze returned to the ticket scraps on the floor. He glared at them.

"I could've gotten a refund brat. Those were a pretty penny." He rumbled out, turning his glare to the now-sheepish brat. The brat looked down to the tickets and raised a hand to scratch at his neck. "Ah… sorry about that."

The kid looked up and raised a brow. "So… what's the situation on your end?"

"My LTC broke with Saburo's death, I'm waiting for them to get me the paperwork to be an actual Arasaka employee again. Until then, I'm stuck in this frame."

"Oh shit, really? Hey what frame is that anyways, I don't recognize it."

Adam glared at nothing for a moment, before answering. "...You remember the training bot?"

The brat was fortunately silent. Adam decided to quickly move on. "Oi! Doc! How's the brat's frame?"

The doc, who had recognized his place and hadn't yet made a sound, replied. "Everything looks clear to me. I'd like to call in the local borg specialist to get a look at him, but I can't see anything wrong with it. I sent you the specs right?" Adam nodded, and the doc continued. "Then that's everything, you've pre-paid this bill so he's free to go whenever he likes."

Whenever Adam liked, actually. Which was now. "Grab your shit boy." He commanded, and the brat was quick to grab whatever miscellaneous shit he had brought over to him since waking up.

They walked out of the office together. The brat chatting inanely about something he didn't really pay attention to. He couldn't stop focusing on how weak his frame was.

He stopped on the sidewalk right before entering his car to drive back to the HQ. He stared at the message that filled his vision as a slow fury began to build up within him.

[Attention all Arasaka America employees, as acting CEO of Arasaka I am making the unilateral decision to partition the resources of this corporation. All Arasaka Assets in North America are hereby classified under the transitory designation of Western Arasaka, a newly formed corporation, and transferred to the legal ownership of Michiko Arasaka. If you are receiving this message, you are included in this exchange of assets. The legal affairs of this exchange have already been handled. You will serve her as well as you have always served Arasaka.]

[-Yorinobu Arasaka]

Adam clenched a fist, but no matter how hard he clenched, none of his fingers would even crack.

The brat was saying something, trying to get his attention.

Adam couldn't focus on any of it.

All he could see was fire.

Uriel burned black.

"Change of plans, brat…" He rumbled out, furious seething present in his distorted voice.

"Start packing when you get back. We're leaving Night City."

Like hell he was going to work for the fucking cat.

END OF BOOK ONE