Semper Vigiles
Chapter Two
As Cyrus navigated Arasaka Tower, it became abundantly clear that this world loved cybernetic enhancements.
This spire was a pure glimpse into this prevalent love for cybernetic augmentation everywhere he looked.
Each element fits the running theme like perfectly constructed puzzle pieces, from augmented security staff to militarized robotic guards.
Black Element is an ensemble of mercenaries with a reputation as terrifying as their augmentations. Quick to anger and ruthless to a fault, they are a force to be reckoned with in Night City's grimy underbelly.
They owe most of their lethal prowess to an array of intimidating augmentations, and their operating procedures are always bombastic and cruel.
Ocular implants glowed an alarming crimson in the darkened hallways, offering the Mercs an unparalleled field of view and target acquisition. These cybernetic eyes allowed them to lurk and pounce amidst the darkest shadows with deadly accuracy. Some even boasted thermal and night vision capabilities, making them practically omniscient hunters.
Their arms were a spectacle of mechanical strength, with muscular servos and hydraulics replacing the form and structure of human anatomy. Each limb, an amalgamation of steel and synthetic tendons, vibrated with raw power, capable of pulverizing concrete walls or breaking bones with an effortless snap.
An additional layer of armor was a frequent sight on several of the Elites in their crew, most of them sporting a sub-dermal shield. This protective casing, while lightweight, could easily withstand a barrage of gunfire, making them virtually impenetrable to small-caliber weaponry.
One of their most infamous mods was the bladed augmentations - retractable, razor-sharp weapons that slid out from under the flesh with frightful speed. A quick flick of the wrist could release a set of blades, turning their bearers into a whirling storm of deadly onslaught.
The Titans in their ranks went a step further to augment their towering height, some grafting locomotive cyber-legs that allowed them the agility of a cheetah with the raw power of a bulldozer.
In the end, however paradoxical, it was their inhumanity that made the Black Element feel so menacingly alive. Their chilling presence was a grim reminder of what the unbridled fusion of technology and human flesh could breed – merciless and fearsome predators.
But on this night in the dark corners of Arasaka Tower, these Mercs weren't facing the average street trash or professional killers.
"Look out!" Chamber cried out, her voice jolting through Cyrus a fraction early as a pair of fiery weapons arced toward him.
The Merc's formidable arms were amplified with ghastly devices - flaming serrated blades that extended menacingly from his wrists like lethal extensions of his being.
Cyrus reacted on instinct alone, dodging swiftly but not completely evading the burning blades. They seared into his assault rifle, instead melting it into two useless chunks of metal.
Reacting smoothly despite losing his primary weapon, Cyrus ignited his trusty energy dagger with a flick of his wrist. Its plasma-formed blade clashed against the Merc's modified appendage - hot against hotter - creating an eye-blinding flare upon contact.
With precision enhanced by military-grade discipline and biological augmentations, Cyrus deflected the incoming offensive strike wide to one side, taking advantage of the brief disorientation following such a high-intensity strike.
His energy dagger plunged ruthlessly upwards, aiming for the mercenary's left eye – an area where even cobalt alloys and synthetic polymers failed to protect vital organic tissues beneath.
The energy dagger plunged deep into soft, vulnerable tissues, and an agonized shriek drowned the audible squelch as sparks flew from malfunctioning augments fritzing out upon contact with raw plasma energy.
A melting pot of membrane and machinery spilled around his weapon's frame. Metal components fused onto raw flesh sizzled as temperatures rivaling the sun laid waste to its surroundings, leaving nothing in its wake except its intended path.
A sharp, shrill battle cry sliced through the clamoring chaos, drawing Cyrus's attention upwards. A hulking silhouette sprung from the heights with whirling blades and cybernetic enhancements.
In one fluid movement, Cyrus relinquished his dagger from its gruesome sheath. His gaze locked on to the airborne assailant.
Without an ounce of hesitation, he lunged towards the descending mercenary. The dagger raised in precise alignment with the path of descent — a calculated thrust aimed to impale right below his foe's unprotected jaw.
A sickening squelch echoed in the hollow space as the blade met flesh, drilling through bone and grey matter. The fierce momentum drove the dagger's shimmering point out through the top of their skull, effectively skewering him midair.
Cyrus looked past the skewered berserker to see another trio of Mercs emerge from a nearby hallway.
Reaching out swiftly, Cyrus snagged the sidearm attached to the belt of his impaled adversary.
Deft fingers wrapped around its steel comfort as he instinctively spun sideways to face this newfound threat head-on. With no sights set nor aim gathered beforehand - he relied solely on primal patience and hardened trigger discipline that had seen him survive countless skirmishes before.
A brisk pull of the trigger sent four wild shots tumbling into reality.
Crucial seconds dripped by in a crawl as the bullets sliced through the air so forcibly that they split apart.
The first shot found its mark unerringly, giving rise to a stumbled gasp as a heavily armored Merc succumbed to the decent wound. Shock was written all over his features in violent strokes; he fell towards the side, seeking cover wherever possible.
The other two barely dove for cover in time against the surprising gunfire, returning a steady stream of counterfire that bracketed Cyrus's meat shield.
Six more contacts emerged on cue before Chamber could register another threat analysis or advice into their connection. Darkened forms, decked in heavy armor smeared with grime from present chaos, surfaced.
Cyrus dumped his eviscerated meat shield and fell in behind a set of cubicles while trading gunfire with the Mercs.
"Great, more of them," he muttered sarcastically through gritted teeth.
"Dance party's getting bigger," her voice echoed back almost cheerily amidst chaos brought by gravity-ridiculed silhouettes seeking safe cover against sudden retaliation.
Time seemed to dilate, every second stretching into a small infinity as Cyrus engaged his targets. His situational awareness kicked into overdrive, sensor nodes scanning around him and feeding droves of data directly into his retinas. Gunfire erupted beside him, bullets from his commandeered sidearm spitting death in rapid bursts.
"What did you do to invite this afterparty?" Her light humor did little to offset the deadly urgency in Cyrus's gaze.
"I don't think they liked my first act," he shot back wryly, the flickering shadows of confused retaliation from his bullet-ridden new admirers only adding more to their macabre colloquy of war.
"Could have been your party tricks," Chamber managed to put in one last barb before another surge of black-clad dangers turned once calm hallways into lethal playgrounds.
Cyrus barely registered the frantic chatter filtering through his commlink as one particular mercenary's voice cut through the cacophony.
"Cobalt 2 here!" The voice barked, laced with desperation and fierce determination. "We're heavily engaged with a big fucking mech! It's cutting us down like we're nothing! We need backup on this floor immediately!"
His words were met with a chilling silence before another authoritative voice cut in. "Red Crown copies. All available units divert to Level 16 and back up Cobalt 2. I repeat, all available units to Level 16 immediately."
"Cobalt 1, Cobalt 4, Butcher 9," the operator resumed without missing a beat. "Continue your push towards the roof. I want this situation handled, gentlemen!"
Snatches of muffled confirmations rippled through the comms network.
Focusing back on the immediate threat at hand, Cyrus snatched a grenade from his ammo belt. He could make out three mercenaries huddled defensively behind an overturned table, their clumsy cover starkly contrasting their professional demeanor.
He lobbed the grenade at them with a practiced ease born of countless engagements. As the grenade sailed through the constricted air space of the corridor, Cyrus snapped his pistol up to eye level. His gaze narrowed as he focused on the revolving projectile.
The brief split second stretched as he squeezed off a single round from his high-caliber sidearm. The steady recoil kicked into his palm as the bullet sped off, tumbling end over end toward its target.
Probability algorithms swirled in his HUD's periphery – line of sight calibration off by 0.02 degrees – bullet's trajectory correction at 0.015% for maximum yield – variables were rapidly dropping.
The bullet sliced through the air rapidly and connected with its unusual target.
The detonation was instantaneous.
An impromptu light show of sparks and flame filled the hallway as the grenade exploded midair.
Caught unawares and struck by a storm they barely had time to comprehend, the trio of mercenaries were swept away in this calamitous torrent. Blood-curdling screams resonated briefly over the tumultuous explosion before getting snuffed out by sheer force.
The deadly rain showered them, pieces burrowing into their flesh while others ricocheted off their armor, causing grievous injury. Their desperate scramble for cover ended abruptly as each fell violently under the oppression of the relentless barrage, finally falling slack in painfully grotesque postures.
Caught in the killing zone, Cyrus engaged in a deadly dance with the remnants of the Black Element mercenaries.
Every step they took, he echoed with equal finesse.
Every shot they fired, he returned with lethal precision.
However, the pistol in his grasp coughed its final round, and Cyrus smoothly tossed it aside.
A dead mercenary caught his gaze, an unused light machine gun clutched tightly in his lifeless hands. Displaying agility and strength that belied his armored form, Cyrus plunged toward the corpse amidst the deadly hailstorm of bullets.
He was so close to the ground, yet his movement was never hindered; his silhouette became a blur against frenzied gunfire that dug no less than furrows into floorings.
His hand shot out mere inches above pulverized flooring, deflecting relentless hail as it hit the air where his body had been moments ago.
Grasping the machine gun's textured grip, Cyrus felt it hum under his touch, its power resonating with eager anticipation.
He swept the firearm around with brutal efficiency and cranked the trigger tight.
Large muzzle flashes were born, and each flash went brighter and brighter as bursts of bullets hit precalculated spots at carefully aimed angles.
The Mercs sought what little cover they could find as sweltering hot bullets scorched the corridor.
Cyrus's suppressive fire bought crucial seconds of respite from their barrage, but more reinforcements poured into the fight.
"These guys are relentless," Chamber chimed in through their sigmoid connection.
"I almost respect their tenacity," he responded, his voice steady amidst the tension.
"To hell with their tenacity, they're in our fucking way!" An edge of her frayed patience, tethered to her sigh, cut through his Hud's feed.
"Language, Chamber," Cyrus admonished lightly, the glint of humor permeating his calm facade.
"Oh, kiss my ass. It was bad enough having an ONI officer berating me for my crass language. That's like having a school monitor discipline the principal." A sense of nostalgia splashed, softening the mood around them.
"Something tells me it was because they didn't expect a billion-dollar project like you to have such a potty mouth," Cyrus voiced through their connection, allowing his words to synthesize into an amused quip.
Composure wavered momentarily, her circuits possibly processing the irony before her signature retort found its way back onto their open channel.
"They should probably get their money back." Her voice carried an unmistakable edge of mirth. His chuckle echoed back as his HUD refreshed with updated target positions.
"I'm afraid that boat has well and truly sailed, Chamber."
Firing steadily, Cyrus pushed forward, the chattering of the LMG following his every movement. Each round spewed from the muzzle was a metallic war cry, slicing through the confined space and seeking merciless retribution.
But as with all things, it came to an end.
The machinegun's impressively large ammo drum relinquished its last round, and the quick clink of an empty chamber echoed.
Without missing a beat, he adjusted his grip on the now quiet instrument of death, turning it into a different but equally lethal weapon as he swung it in a wide arc and crashed it into the helmeted head of a nearby mercenary.
The body propelled back, and the Merc sailed through the air momentarily before gravity caught up and sent him sprawling down unceremoniously.
Hardly losing his momentum, Cyrus sprinted past the crumpled form, his sight locking on the next adversary. A thickly armored brute of a mercenary, fumbling desperately to reload his rifle, his wide-eyed panic visible even past the opaque visor.
Cyrus did not slow, instead barreling into the mercenary with his shoulder like a battering ram. The man surprisingly absorbed the impact and retaliated nearly instantly, attempting an elbow strike onto Cyrus's helmet.
But Cyrus was faster.
He dipped forwards, and the crown of his helmet met the underside of the Merc's jaw. The force behind the headbutt was visibly jarring, and the mercenary's motions slurred by the sudden shock.
His aura of invulnerability was shattered within seconds, and before he could recover, Cyrus's knee thundered into his kidney. The pained scream was abruptly cut off, replaced with a guttural grunt, as Cyrus seized his throat.
Cyrus's HUD lit up suddenly as Chamber broke into his focus. "Watch your left," she cautioned, the urgency in her voice slicing through the thundering gunfire and chaotic thuds of combat. Without a moment wasted, a lone Merc armed heavily hulked into his line of sight, firmly gripping a colossal shotgun that nearly rivaled his stature.
A lone Merc boasting a shotgun almost the size of their lower torso came into view. Cyrus maneuvered the armor-bound man before him with no more effort than adjusting puppet strings.
The Merc became a meat shield as piercing metal rounds lodged into the unlucky victim's chest.
A fading gasp emitted from the rapidly draining Merc. A chorus of screams rippled into existence as the man was launched backward from sheer shotgun recoil.
His maneuvers were fluid, scattering enemy combatants and redefining survival odds, even though it made Chamber's assessment all the more problematic.
Predicting her Spartan actions was no walk in the park when the variables kept changing.
And they change all the time.
I==I
The final mercenary crumbled to the ground alongside his ill-fated comrades.
Cyrus remained composed despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the stench of gunpowder and spilled lifeblood hanging heavy in the air.
His goal was the twentieth floor.
Chamber had marked it as their extraction point, but every second spent in combat was time against them, and he was acutely aware of the burgeoning threat escalating floors away.
Glancing back over his shoulder, he could discern the growing hazard in the depths of the complex. Like a nightmarish bloom, every level was overrun by thick clusters of Mercenaries mobilizing faster than Chamber could track them.
This was no longer a simple sprint to the finish line. Arasaka Tower had become a gauntlet, each passing moment closing the window of survival that bit more, transforming every step forward into a race against time. And losing was not an option.
Chamber's voice crackled into existence, trimming through the aftermath silence of blaring gunfire and echoed screams. "We're running out of time."
Slowly, his gaze traced the path leading upwards, the neon-lit stairway stretching into untold danger and uncertainty.
"Then we'll have to be faster..."
The unfinished sentence hung in midair as he prepared for the next phase of their relentless advance. The once pristine Arasaka Tower was turning into a killing field, and with each passing moment, Cyrus added to the carnage.
As Cyrus sprinted towards the upper levels of Arasaka Tower, an unusual glint flickered at the edge of his vision.
It was not the familiar shift-bending reflection of an active camouflage module but rather a motion-blur streak, so swift and fluid that his augmented eyes struggled to compile the sighting into a sensible resolution.
It was similar to gazing at twirls of light; each frame overlapped the next.
He barely registered the figure coalescing from the streak, its dual wrist blades flashing menacingly, before it was launching a flurry of strikes at his vitals. Their onset was as devastating as it was swift, a brutal tornado that hardly gave him the time to register, much less react.
Summoning his augmented reflexes, Cyrus barely parried the blades, narrowly evading each deadly swipe.
The barrage was relentless and calculated, pushing him back inch by inch.
A swift, retaliatory kick came naturally, and his armored foot landed squarely into the center of his assailant's chest, sending them sprawling backward.
The figure – a lethal specter robed in black armor – corrected their trajectory midair, rolling with the force and landing expertly on their feet. Their poise and agility were intimidating, but their conspicuously non-human speed and lethal multi-vector attacks were a predicament.
Cyrus' hand instinctively darted out, his fingers clamping around the disguised metal hilt of his energy dagger. A flick of his wrist made the handle shudder before bursting to life in a stunning blue aura.
Through his audio comm, Chamber's quick-witted voice filled his helmet. "Who the fuck is this?" She asked, a hint of mirth swimming in the tides of curiosity and concern.
"No idea," he answered, his eyes never leaving the armored figure before him, preparing for his upcoming lethal dance. "But she's in our way."
His comm channel flared to life as if on cue, a fresh, feminine voice cutting through the silence.
"Red Crown, this is Viper. Target in sight."
A momentary silence followed her declaration before Red Crown's more gruff voice replied. "Can you handle it?"
The reply was stark and clear.
"He's mine."
Chamber's chuckle echoed in his audio receiver, a low rumble that bounced off the walls of his helmet. "Girl's got balls," she remarked.
"Figure out how she can move so fast," Cyrus ordered, his gaze slewing onto the black-armored adversary, now starting to move again. Each second felt as stretched as his last breath of oxygen in a space vacuum. "I'd love to know what cybernetics she's got installed that makes even my eyes feel..." He hesitated, the sentence hanging briefly, "…slow."
"On it," affirmed Chamber instantaneously as neural gateways widened with data transfers, her presence flickering over a thousand possibilities simultaneously, leaving Cyrus alone with his newfound threat manifesting the epitome of cybernetic speed – so much so that even his Spartan Augmented perceptual senses struggled to cope.
In a fluid motion, the mercenary across from him unsheathed a weapon behind her back, revealing a shimmering katana. Its deadly edge flickered with electrical energy that crawled across the blade in a mesmerizing dance, and the spectacle managed to drain away some of the ambient purrs from the corridor.
A low hiss of static burst from his comm unit, the sync of her voice transforming any harmonic hum into a chilling purr with unspoken promises of a merciless battle.
"It appears the game is over even before it can even begin," she taunted, the blade pointing unerringly at him in a clear challenge.
In response, Cyrus flexed his fingers around his glowing energy dagger, muscles tight with anticipation for the inevitable clash.
"I'm not in the mood for games, Viper," his voice cut confidently through the mounting tension, and he could feel her chilling smile underneath her darkened helm.
Statistical variables ran rampant across his HUD.
Threat level up by 45% - Probability of successful combat increasing - Recalibrating Evasion subroutine - Updating combat tactics. All the details slipped past his gaze as his attention remained fixed on Viper's electrified weapon.
Without a hint of a warning, she lunged.
A blur against the neon backdrop, she crossed the distance between them almost within the blink of an eye.
And Cyrus, fueled by instinct and raw tenacity, met her head-on.
His energy dagger clashed against her katana in a sparking clash, the flickering after-images painting the tight space in stunning strokes of brutal violence.
For the Merc, it was the ending symphony to an unexpected hunt.
For Cyrus, it was Tuesday.
In a confined dance of death, Cyrus sparred with the mercenary, their weapons clashing in a storm of sparks and primal energy. Every flick of his wrist, every pivot of his foot, responded to her onslaught – a beautifully choreographed recital of violence.
Each blow she launched met the impenetrable defense of his MJOLNIR suit, her attacks resonating off the shield with telltale flashes of light but failing to break through. The energy shielding denied her any passage despite all her attempts.
However, even if her strikes were blunted, there was no denying the ferocity and skill that laced every one of her movements.
But Cyrus was no stranger to CQC, and he countered her attempts with calculated precision. In a swift maneuver, he twisted his wrist, locking his energy dagger against her electrified katana.
A fist delivered a devastating blow right to her mid-section, forcing the air out of her lungs and curling her body inward from the sheer impact.
Her defense momentarily faltered, and Cyrus capitalized on the advantage.
Summoning the built-in thrusters in the suit, he aimed a forceful boot at her sternum and propelled her backward with almost blinding speed. It was remarkable how her body strained against the massive backlash, briefly suspended in midair before being sent crashing back.
Her form slammed into a robust alloy door, with a crash reverberating through the hangar bay. The metallic clatter jolted the eerily silent hangar bay filled with aerodynes as Viper was flung through the entrance into the open hangar area.
Cyrus could feel the pensive silence that bridged the gap between him and the beleaguered mercenary. His heavy footsteps reverberated through the hangar, each footfall coming off as a faint whisper as he pushed into the open area.
The distant hum was pushed aside when the mercenary stirred. Like an unyielding specter, Viper clambered back to her feet, the strain in her movements doing nothing to sway her resolution.
Her figure, swathed in black armor, was lean and streamlined, smattered with the debris and impact dust thrown up from her rough landing. The neutral shade of her armor was distinctly marred by brief wear from their bout.
Viper's visor was cracked in multiple spots, and with a snarl of contempt, a hand came up to tear it off.
Sapphire eyes shone brightly in the low lighting, defiant and unyielding as they locked onto his gaze. Auburn strands of hair, matted with sweat and dust, hung loose around her face while a few stubborn strands clung to her high cheekbones. Her lips, neutrally shaded, were drawn in a grim line of determination - as if they were perpetually armed for conflict.
But Cyrus no longer saw any fight within those eyes.
"Having second thoughts?" He rumbled, his voice like ice-coated steel cutting clear in the eerie calm. His question pricked like a barb, and her eyes flared with something akin to annoyance.
Viper measured him with her gaze, a twisted smirk tugging at her bruised lips. She didn't entertain his words with a response, instead reaching for her discarded katana.
"Not a chance." Her hand reached out almost hopelessly, but any hope she held was snuffed out mercilessly as his foot came down on the hilt, the steel's electrical hum dying under his imposing weight.
The swift motion was accompanied by an equally speedy flick of a hand striking her across the face. The blow was startlingly quick, knocking her to the side and further away from her weapon of choice.
Cyrus snatched the electrified katana and gave it a once over.
There was a palpable hum in the air as he lifted it, the weapon suddenly coming to life with a barely contained energy coursing through its blade. The electric field generated by the sword danced along its sharp length in a stunning display of raw power and futuristic technology.
The hilt was sleek and ergonomic, designed for uncompromising control and lethal precision. There was a slight heaviness to it, the perfect counterbalance to the light, electrified blade, which was designed to cut, sear, and incapacitate with mesmerizing efficiency.
Cold, clinical, and devastatingly effective.
A perfect tool for a Headhunter.
But it wasn't his to take.
Not while its user still lived.
And Cyrus had no desire to add her name to the long list he'd already compiled tonight.
"You need to stop." His words filled the hangar in an echo, the underlying warning as clear as the azure blade in his hand.
But defiance shaded her gaze as she spat out a glob of blood in contempt. Her chest heaved with shallow breaths as she struggled to find her voice.
"We don't get to lose," she spat out, her every syllable punctuated with desperation. "Losing means dying or facing someone sent to clean up our mess."
Her honest proclamation hung in the air momentarily before Cyrus broke the lingering silence with a firm response.
"Then you should take your chances with the other guy," he suggested an unspoken acknowledgment of her reality and sheer obstinacy in the face of her mortality.
She was good.
He was better.
He didn't allow her any room for rebuttal. His actions were swift, and within a blink, the blade soared across the hangar.
Like a spectral comet, the blade streaked through the air before lodging into an aerodyne. Cyrus heard the electrical hum disappear as it pierced its hull with a metallic crunch, sinking to the hilt and leaving behind a sonata of crackling sparks.
"Viper, report in." Red Crown's voice crackled on her comm, and Cyrus glanced down at the prone mercenary with a pointed look.
"You going to answer that?"
Viper's eyes held measured consideration and silence, blood trickling down from her mouth and rolling down her chin, further staining her armor. The unbroken silence hung before she finally reached for her comm.
"Go ahead, Red Crown."
"Is the target subdued?" Her commander's voice boomed from the device, the line distorted with apprehension.
She looked up into his unfathomable gaze.
"Negative," she responded with surprising clarity. "I lost him. I need a medevac."
Cyrus watched her, his scanner picking up several critical injuries- the stress fractures in her bones, multiple soft tissue injuries, and contusions across her form. The chances of her survival were dropping rapidly.
"Understood," Red Crown replied over the comm, his voice calmer now. "Medevac inbound, hang tight."
Casting her a final glance, Cyrus stepped past the injured mercenary. Her resonant sigh echoed his sentiment, both caught in a parallel where duty differed from survival.
"You should find a new line of work," he commented, casting his advice into the humid air, barely concealing the undercurrent of mirth beneath his gruff exterior.
She scoffed, the sound echoing around her battered armor in waves of muffled laughter.
"Where are you going?" Her voice carried a hint of genuine curiosity now.
"Honestly." Cyrus stepped onto an aerodyne, its sleek design configured for heavy transportation. "I have no clue."
Viper could do nothing but watch as Cyrus departed, leaving her with the echo of shallow breaths and his mercy.
Mercy.
Such a foreign word in her line of work.
I==I
Cyrus hauled himself into the pilot seat of an aerodyne, and the heavy-duty construction hovercraft seemed more welcoming now than ever.
His hands danced over unfamiliar controls, but he was far from panicked. "Take over, Chamber," voiced his silent decree, and behind the scenes of his neural link, Chamber synchronized her neural pathways with flight control systems.
"She was nice," Chamber quipped, disrupting the steady silence that had descended over them.
"In what way did you find her nice?" Cyrus queried, the amusement in his voice seeping through.
"Pleasant conversation?" Chamber suggested a hint of mischief in her tone.
"Those usually don't involve any form of violence," he pointed out, his attention split between their conversation and booting the aerodyne's engine controls.
"Is that so bad?"
Her nonchalant query rewarded her a retort. "I know you're getting up there in age, but you remember she tried to kill me, like, I don't know, five seconds ago."
"People have been trying to kill you almost 80% of the time in the last four years. Can't you make an exception?" Chamber smoothly pointed out with her ever-present logic.
"Only 80?" he repeated her estimation.
"I'm lowballing the number," Chamber shot back, a spark of levity in her voice that seemed to lighten the tense environment. "In other news, I've discovered what was giving her an unusual increase compared to the other mercs."
An image of curious tech appeared in Cyrus's HUD - a cybernetic upgrade module known as Sandevistan slowed time as experienced by the user. "This Sandevistan module is a state-of-the-art combat support tech. It speeds up the user's perception of time, amplifying their reflexes to near-superhuman levels."
"English, please."
"Stupid, monkey." She elaborated on her explanation, "She experiences time at a reduced capacity, while her reflexes are augmented."
"Was that so hard?"
"Bite me."
"Can we implement it?" Cyrus inquired, ignoring Chamber's retort.
"What, superhuman experimentation and grossly overpowered power armor not enough for you?" Chamber teased.
But Cyrus wasn't swayed. "I'm always looking for an edge."
"One step at a time, hot shot," Chamber retorted, a smile appearing in her voice.
A deafening roar echoed in the hangar, a potent pause before the heavy-duty engine whirred to life.
Arasaka Tower disappeared behind a wall of steel.
I have intentionally not set a given date because I am still debating whether or not I want this to be set before or after Cyberpunk Edgerunners.
The Decision will come sooner or later but for right now my boy is still trying to get his feet under him.
See you all next time.