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Chapter Nine
July 13th, 2077
Night City, Northern California
Bonita Rail Freight yard, Santo Domingo
Panam and lady luck had been at odds for years, always finding a way to elude one another.
Honestly, she was getting sick and tired of being used by the scumbags and scavengers inhabiting Night City. She was a Nomad, and family meant everything to her, but a persistent conflict with her clan leader separated her from that family.
Despite voluntarily departing the Aldecaldos, Panam still maintained a strong relationship with its people.
Her decision was not made lightly, but the clan was advancing headfirst into disaster, and Panam wanted nothing to do with it.
Months after her departure, she was starting to question the direction her own life was headed.
Panam became an Afterlife Merc under the employ of Rogues Amendiares, and while her employer was a vexing personality, she made enough eddies to make it worthwhile.
Now, she hated every second of her life.
Nash was a raffen piece of shit who stole the cargo she was transporting for the Sixth Street gang and her Thorton. They were supposed to be partners on a routine smuggling gig, but the fucker screwed her over and stole her baby.
She was going to kill the Wraith; it was only a matter of time and patience.
Patience that she was running out of, her contact V, was running late to their meeting.
Panam wasn't exactly trusting of the Merc, but beggars couldn't be choosers.
'Hey, Panam, right?' The Aldecaldo glanced to her right, subtly taking in the voice's features.
Panam was taken aback by a pair of vivid amber eyes, sparkling with potent energy. Blood red hair was swept to the right covering that side of her face and a portion of her right eye.
The opposite side of her visitor's head was intricately shaved to show off a bit of cyberware. Fair light skin delightfully complimented her nose and mouth, leaving a pleasant memory for any onlookers.
The Mercenary was a magnificent specimen, and damn did she look good in that Bolero. Underneath the Bolero was a well-conditioned netrunning suit, concealing two Constitutional Arm Unity's strapped to her waist.
On her back was a wicked katana, a weapon Panam hadn't seen in years, but she did not doubt her effectiveness.
All in all, the Merc was enough to make the boys faint and the girls jealous.
So, consider Panam extremely Jealous.
'So, you're V.' She pushed back from underneath the hood. 'Where's my car?'
'Agree to help me, and you'll find out.' Panam disagreed with that statement heavily/
'Oh, fuck no!' Panam's hands went back to work on the car. 'You will NOT jerk me around right now. Where is my car?!'
'Fuck me. You always on the warpath?' V leaned her weight on her left leg, expression unamused and arms crossed.
'Only when someone tries to jerk me around. Now where the hell is MY CAR!'
'Say I tell you, and then what? Gonna storm off and handle it all by yourself?' V replied with a hint of hostility.
'That is none of your concern.'
'Listen to me. LISTEN TO ME. You need my help.' V's expression softened. 'And you'll get it. I meant that, but after we solve my problem.'
'Fine, FINE!' Panam turned her attention to the Mercenary. 'What do you want?'
'Need to hit a Kang Tao transport. Won't be easy, but I need to know I can count on you.' Panam shot her a look of disbelief.
This fucking woman was crazy.
'Are you insane?'
'About you or the job?' V shot back cynically. 'The AV will take a route over Jackson plain; that should help us avoid any quick reaction teams. If that doesn't satisfy you, I have more backup coming with us. My target is on board that AV, and I need him alive.'
'Yeah, I doubt Jackson plain and three losers will be able to take on a Kang Tao convoy.' V ignored the Aldecaldos bitching.
'In return, you get your cargo and car back. We got a deal?' The Mercenary questioned with a tone of finality.
'I don't know I-' The boosted car's horn went off, startling the Aldecaldo. 'Motherfucker!' Panam reached for the alarm underneath the car's engine, grasping onto it with all her might and ripping it out. She glared at the horn with barely concealed contempt before tossing it behind her.
Panam reached for the car hood, satisfied with her modifications to the vehicle's longevity, and slammed it down. 'Alright, deal, but if you want to hit that Kang Tao transport, I need my Thorton back. So where is it?'
'Thorton's in rocky ridge. Along with your cargo.' Panam's expression was cut out of pure hate, and a name popped out of her mouth with all the contempt she could muster.
'Who is Nash?' V asked. 'A friend of yours? partner?'
'Former partner. The bastard screwed me and then nicked my car and cargo. Probably going to sell it in Rocky Ridge.' Panam replied.
'So, let's go to Rocky Ridge. What are we waiting for.' V inquired.
'Give me a sec, will ya Christ,' Panam massaged her head before coming to a decision. 'If we're going to do this, we'll need back up. The good kind and not whatever city trash you're bringing along.'
'I think he would disagree heavily.' V conspicuously looked around, hoping the Spartan wouldn't come down and bite her head off.
'I don't care. I gotta make a phone call gimme a sec.' Panam walked off with a phone in hand. The name Boz fell from her lips when Johnny made his appearance.
'Going ahead with the deal behind Rogue's back. Admirable but incredibly stupid.' Johnny's musing irritated the Mercenary.
'Do you always have to comment on every little thing Johnny?' The Rockerboy shot her an incredulous look.
'Course I do because you're liable to do something idiotic.' V rolled her eyes at his irritating tangent. Their conversations always seemed to go back to what happened yesterday.
Sure, V was scared out of her fucking mind, but Johnny had been whining like a bitch for hours on end.
'Say, for instance, establishing contact with one of the scariest motherfuckers on the planet. I'm dead, and he still scares me because he knows I exist in that fucked up head of yours.'
'Johnny, I know what I am doing.' V gave the engram a pointed look. 'How many times do I have to tell you this.'
'A million apparently, because you're full of shit.' V's reply was cut off when Panam got off the phone.
'Ok, I bought us some time,' Panam said. 'But we need to visit the Aldecaldo camp, drum up some help.'
'I used to ride with Nomads myself,' V said with an indescribable expression.
'Really.' Panam's eyes widened slightly. 'Who'd you roll with?'
'Bakker clan, which felt like years ago. It didn't work out well, so I came to Night City.' Her expression turned into one of complete understanding.
Panam knew what it was like to walk away from the family.
'Guess we have something in common after all.' she mused. 'This backup of yours, he any good?
'Better than you think.' The Mercenary's words echoed through Panam's head for a moment. V said it with such vigor that she almost believed the man she spoke of was a god of war.
Then common sense won out.
'Yeah, whatever you say, Merc. Tell him to meet us at Rocky Ridge when he's available. While we go look for more professional help.' An endearing smile crossed Panam's face.
'Believe me, Panam. He's the best at what he does.' Panam jumped into the driver seat of her boosted Thorton.
'Yeah, what's that, gardening?' She alluded to sarcastically as V entered her vehicle.
'Headhunting.'
Night City, Northern California
Badlands, Twenty Kilometers North of Rocky Ridge
The Wraiths weren't the only Raffen gang populating the badlands. Other Raffen clans were spread out all along the entire frontier, leaving Cyrus a wealth of targets to choose from. Tonight's target was a captain in the Reaper gang called Jury, a psychopath with a fixation on kidnapping and extortion.
Jury and his clan were known to ambush travelers and Corpo trucks up and down Interstate 9.
Their most recent haul was a Biotechnica truck bringing much-needed relief to frontier towns in desperate need of supplies.
So subtly and patience was critical for this job, and all he needed to do was wait.
Chamber had deciphered a most likely crossing point for the Reaper gang when they were executing their heists.
Predictably Chamber's prognosis was a complete success, and the Spartan was trailing a small convoy of Reaper trucks back to their main camp.
She contacted a fixer named Dakota Smith.
Usually, they wouldn't bother speaking to anyone out in the middle of nowhere.
But Cyrus couldn't exactly drive the Biotechnica truck with his MJOLNIR on, so they were going to let Smith dispatch a driver once they cleared the camp.
The Fixer took some convincing, and she downright almost hung up on him when he denied payment. Something about not trusting a man who did something out of the goodness of his heart.
Cyrus guessed some people were just born paranoid.
The Reaper camp was more of a collection of vehicles surrounding an abandoned hotel. They made the abandoned Sundrive Hotel their base of Operations, and unsurprisingly were inept in fundamental security.
Most of the gang were sleeping, and the perimeter guards were damn near useless, in Cyrus's opinion.
Clearing the camp was of little concern for the Headhunter.
The perimeter guards were dead before they knew what hit them, and the fools sleeping in their racks met an untimely demise.
It barely took him five minutes to clear out a camp where well over fifty bandits residing in it.
Cyrus was disappointed. He didn't even need to fire a single shot, his Kukri alone was enough to get the job done.
'You know, sometimes I miss the Covenant.' Cyrus surmised quietly. 'They put a better fight than any of these people.'
'No, you don't.' His partner stated. 'And you're a blood-crazed idiot if you do.'
'Consider me a blood-crazed idiot.' Cyrus could feel his companion roll her eyes at his statement.
'Oh, boy.' Chamber's avatar appeared on his HUD.
'We can go now. Dakota's driver is on her way, and they'll take the Biotechnica Truck to its designated location so everyone can go home happy.' Chamber took in her environment. 'We'll, almost everyone.'
Cyrus's MJOLNIR alerted him to a receiving signal.
Glancing down to his Tacpad, the Headhunter recognized Vargas's ID tag. He still couldn't believe what Chamber told him during her scan of the woman.
The data chip engrained into her neural network contained the psyche of a long-dead terrorist, and that intrigued her more than anything else. That same Relic was also consuming her mind slowly like a cancer tumor.
Cyrus wasn't entirely sure how such a thing was possible, but his very presence on this planet shouldn't be possible either. So, he imagined this was just par for the course at this point.
Regardless he wanted Anders Hellman as much as she did, so their interests were aligned for now.
'Cyrus here, go ahead.'
'Christ. I've been trying to get ahold of you for an hour now. Look, we need you at Rocky Ridge as soon as possible. How long will it take you to get there?' The Mercenary replied.
'I'm fifteen klicks out. Give me t-minus twenty minutes, and I'll be there.' A voice cut into V's background.
'Whose that the Gardener?' Cyrus's eyes blinked in confusion.
'Gardener?' V sighed in exasperation.
'Ignore her. She's just bitter because her choom's left her out to dry.' The Headhunter's confusion grew.
The fuck is a choom?
'Hey, don't be an asshole, V. I'm just saying we're gonna need more than your boyfriend to help us out.' Chamber's bark of laughter annoyed the Spartan further.
'He's not my boyfriend.' V shot back sternly.
'With the way you talk about him, I'm almost disappointed to hear that.' Cyrus was not able to comprehend what was flowing through his audio receptors. Chamber, on the other hand, was having the time of her life.
'I'm hanging up now.' Cyrus ignored the cry of wait from V.
He really hated people sometimes.
Night City, Northern California
Rocky Ridge, Badlands
V was right.
Panam was pissed at Mitch and Scorpion, and that wasn't fair to either of them. They were her brothers in all but blood, every single member of the Aldecaldos was family, even Saul.
Still, it didn't change how she felt about her clan, and it wasn't going to help her current predicament. Panam still wasn't sure how she felt about V or her so-called 'backup.'
Backup who was running late.
The Merc tried for almost an hour to get ahold of her choom, but for whatever reason, he wasn't answering the phone.
Panam was halfway from talking her own shit about trustworthy chooms when the bastard finally answered the phone. She threw her own teases at V, trying her best to exude some form of confidence, but she was jealous of the Merc.
Friends are hard to come by in Night City, so even having one person you can rely on to answer the phone meant everything in this city. It expressed a level of trust and companionship Panam was in dire need of.
She just hoped V's choom would get here in time.
The plan was relatively simple, catch the Wraiths at the Rocky Ridge intersection in a convincing light show. Ambush the bandits, get her merchandise and Thorton back, then high-tail it out of there.
On cue, a small Wraith convoy rolled through with her baby intact, along with fourteen bandits to deal with.
The plan went off without a hitch at first, Panam was a good shooter, but V was a born killer.
The Mercenary excelled in the art of combat, capable of overheating a Wraiths nervous system while simultaneously blasting their chooms head off. The pair were halfway through the bandits within minutes, and Panam could practically taste the satisfaction of victory in her mouth.
A taste that turned bitter when more multiple headlights popped up over the horizon.
More Wraiths were coming.
Six modified Quadra Type-66's in total, packing all kinds of heat and most likely dozens more bloodthirsty Raffen. Panam surmised there had to be well over twenty wraiths, and Nash was more than likely among them.
'V!' Panam called for the Mercenary from her overwatch position. 'We got more coming. Get to cover!'
V had a serrated knife lodged in a bandit's left shoulder before planting three bullets into his chest. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she wrenched her blade from the Wraith's corpse. She turned her attention down the main road spotting a Thorton with a turret mounted on top, a turret aimed right at her.
'SHIT!' She ran as fast as her legs could carry her, bullets landing all around her, kicking up dirt and leaving scorch marks in the town's desolate environment. V was forced to dive into the BD Shack, slamming against a broken-down antique arcade.
'V!' Panam fired a round from her Overwatch, killing the driver of the lead vehicle. She watched the Wraith Quadra dip to the right, going off-road and flipping in the process. She attempted to rain more accurate fire from her overwatch position, but a rocket was shot in retaliation.
'OH FUCK!' Panam jumped over the electrical tower's railing; showers of shrapnel and smoke followed her rough descent. The Aldecaldo landed on her right side, bruising her ribs and knocking the oxygen from her lungs.
'Panam!' V screamed over the comms. 'Talk to me girl, are you ok!'
Panam scrambled to her feet and stumbled towards V's old position. Gunfire reigned upon both the BD shack and the power station. She took cover behind the fuse box V had activated earlier, barely missing a bullet that grazed her left cheek.
'I'm ok.' Panam placed her Overwatch down and retrieved her sidearm, a Malorian Overture that packed a mean punch. 'Where are you at V!'
'BD Shack across the street,' V replied. ' These fuckers are everywhere!'
'Where the fuck is our backup!' Panam popped out of cover, firing three shots in the vicinity of the closest Wraiths. The first two shots dropped two bandits in quick succession, and her third shot missed a Wraith Lieutenant by inches.
The bandit roared in a fury, swinging their Type-8 Machine Gun in Panam's direction and unleashing a torrent of hot lead on the Aldecaldo's position.
'He'll be here.' A staccato of gunfire echoed in V's background. 'We just need to hold out a little longer.'
The firefight intensified with each passing second, and Wraiths poured out of their vehicles like moths to a flame. An unorganized rabble formed at the intersection; most bandits were taking cover behind their Quadra's and Thorton's, while a few made for the gas station across the street from V.
The Wraiths were biding their time waiting for something to happen. The morons had V and Panam dead to rights, but they were hesitating.
All they had to do was storm the arcade building and breach the power plant in force, and then it would be game over.
V shot at a Wraith who peaked their head a little too long out of cover, receiving a high caliber round straight through the temple. The Mercenary let loose four more shots before needing to seek shelter lest she loses her head.
'Real fine mess, you found yourself in V.' Johnny remarked from behind her.
'Shut up, Johnny.' V spotted a Wraith priming a frag grenade. The Mercenary aimed both Unity's and targeted the bandit.
Firing a burst of rounds in quick succession, they found new homes in the Wraith's abdomen and right wrist, knocking the grenade out of the bandit's hand. The explosive rolled a few meters to the right, landing underneath a Wraith and his Quadra.
The frag grenade imploded seconds later, blowing the leg off the unsuspecting Wraith and sending him flying through the air. His Quadra fared little better, the frag grenade lighting the vehicle's volatile properties, causing a violent explosion.
Shrapnel and fuel went in all directions, forcing V and Panam to brace against their cover. Five Wraiths were caught in the explosion; blood and gore followed the trail of shattered metal.
The detonation allowed a lull in the fighting to take place. Wraith's readjusted their position and moved their remaining vehicles away from the blast.
Gunfire ceased just as suddenly as it had erupted.
The lights of Rocky Ridge flickered in the night.
'Panam.' Silence. 'Goddamnit, Panam, where are you?'
A door swung open behind V, startling the Mercenary even as she pointed her pistols at the sound's origin. She sighed in relief when Panam walked through the door, worse for wear but still alive.
She motioned for V to move upstairs, lugging her Overwatch in both hands.
The Mercenary peeked outside her window, finding more than a few Wraiths still recovering from the blast. Quietly, V shifted her body to her right, trying not to draw too much attention to herself.
Once she made it to the stairs, she witnessed a fatigued Panam slumping against a worn-out burrito machine. The Mercenary joined her while keeping an eye downstairs, weary of a Wraith counterattack.
'How'd you get over here?' V asked while reloading her Unity's.
'That explosion distracted them enough for me to high tail it over here.' She peeked her head over the arcade's upstairs window.
'How many we got left?' Panam did a quick headcount before a searchlight passed over her window.
'Twenty or thirty left, leaning more on thirty.'
'Fuck me.' The Mercenary moaned.
A Wraith stepped out of the crowd of raffen, taller than the rest by a full head. Short buzzcut hair topped a face almost always set in a sneer.
Panam cursed underneath her breath, Nash was here, and he was out for blood.
'Panam!' The Raffen Leader yelled. ''You fucking whore, I know you're up there!?''
V peaked outside, watching the Wraith muscle pass some of his compatriots. 'Let me guess. That's Nash.'
'Yup.' The Aldecaldo only nodded in response. 'We are so fucked.'
V started to drum up a plan in her head.
The raffen did a better job maintaining proper combat spacing after one of their Quadra's went up in a ball of fire. They were spread out in a series of levels preventing another vehicle from taking out a decent chunk of men.
The Aldecaldo and Mercenary were in a bad spot, not enough ammo or explosives to shoot their way out of this predicament. They needed backup, and they needed it now.
While the duo sat in bated silence, a torrential downpour swept through the town, kicking up droplets of water and blood.
Lightning blistered across the night sky, followed by the crack of booming thunder.
V vaguely remembered the weather forecast for the night, topped off by a nasty thunderstorm.
Night City very rarely had precipitation, and even fewer of those were of this magnitude.
A chill ran through V's body, an emotion she had only ever felt once before.
A feeling that previously brought her to her knees in dread now raised her spirits in ecstasy.
The Mercenary's comms feed didn't even need to tell her what she already knew.
Cyrus was here.
'Vargas. Location?' Panam watched V's expression light up like a Christmas tree.
'BD Shack near the intersection,' V informed swiftly. 'They got us pinned in deep. Where are you?'
'Keep your head down. I won't take long.' The communication link went out, leaving V and Panam in the dark.
'Well,' Panam grunted. 'Where the fuck is he?'
V didn't have the chance to respond.
The lights to the entire shantytown had gone out.
Lighting and the Wraith Vehicles were the only sources of illumination for the visitors of Rocky Ridge.
Those few raffen that possessed flashlights engaged them on instinct. Beams of light intersected one another as the bandits attempted to regather their bearings.
Johnny, who had spoken very much, decided now was a good time to use his mouth. A tone of awe and dread echoed his feelings and sentiments.
'And I heard, as it were, the noise of thunder, One of the four beasts saying, 'Come and see.' and I saw, and behold a black horse.'
That should have scared V, but it didn't.
And she could not explain why.
Down at the intersection, Nash was trying to instill some discipline into his crew.
The Quadra blast shook most if not all of his men, and the Wraiths were bandits at heart.
Too accustomed to taking on helpless travelers and cowardly corporate drivers.
They were not equipped to fight off individuals with actual combat experience, and it's why they constantly swarmed their targets.
Better to drown them in a sea of bodies than fight them one on one.
Still, Nash had all the cards in his corner, thirty Wraiths all waiting to sink their teeth into Panam and her sidekick.
They just needed to get the power back on.
Nash took stock of the Wraith formation.
The raffen formed two rings of steel around the BD shack, determined to deny Panam and her partner an easy way out. He attempted to keep them both separated, but the explosion nixed that idea quickly.
'Mickey, Roy,' Nash spoke to the two closest raffen. 'Go check out the power station, get that shit working.'
The two Wraiths, as mentioned above, nodded before moving off the line of cars back towards the substation. The remaining raffen talked amongst themselves, keeping a watchful eye on the BD shack with nothing left to do.
'Why don't we just go in and kill them both,' a Wraith brandishing a Copperhead suggested. 'Guarantee thirty guys storming a building would be done in five seconds flat.'
'Yeah, go ahead than Waylon,' a Carnage wielding raffen taunted. 'You first, by all means, eat all that fucking lead, so I don't get flatlined.'
'Fuck you, Adam, you owe me eddies. You can repay it by going in first since you're broke ass hasn't paid me back yet.'
'Fuck that noise, man.' Adam looked around the barricade, trying to pick out a Wraith that owed him a favor. 'Hey Drake, you go inside since you owe me motherfucker!'
Drake, a Wraith carrying an Ajax, was not amused. 'By that fucking logic, we should send everybody inside. We all owe some bastard eddies around here!'
A barrage of grumbles emerged from the rest of the Raffen shivs. Drake wasn't wrong. They allowed each other eddies or favors, so they were back to square one.
That was until Waylon opened his mouth.
'Hey,' The raffen drew everyone's attention. 'What about Tommy? That asshole owes everybody money.'
Murmurs and yells of approval echoed amongst the Raffen horde.
Eventually, it died down as people took notice of their surroundings.
Tommy was stationed at the far left side of the first ring of cars, but he was nowhere to be found.
Instead, in his place was a Copperhead leaned against a Wraith Thorton, torch still lit and rain pelting the assault rifle.
'Where the fuck is Tommy?' Adam pushed from his position to investigate the weapon drawn in a relaxed stance.
He shined his light at Tommy's former position finding tiny droplets of blood smeared by the storm's waterfall. The weather was picking up in intensity, and even theRaffen's optics were being affected.
Shouldering his rifle, the Wraith shined his torch into the sprawling darkness.
'He's not here,' Adam called out. 'There's some blood on the ground. Not sure what happened to him.'
Nash, who had been silent during the whole situation, advanced to Adam's location with a purpose. He was halfway to his subordinate's location when a body fell from the sky, crushing the roof of a Thorton. Blood and fragments of bone flew everywhere, caking the men closest in crimson liquid.
Waylon, who had been the closest, shined his torch onto the recently deposited corpse. 'OH FUCK! It's fucking Tommy! His whole goddamn heads been ripped off!'
The Wraith Lieutenant raced over to the headless corpse, assuming at first that Waylon was overreacting. The whole gang would have heard the screams of a man's head being torn off even in this weather.
Except Waylon was correct, there was no clean-cut, just a jumble of jagged tendons and the remains of Tommy's spine left over.
A loud crash reverberated through the abandoned shantytown, and a few Raffen assumed it to be a crack of thunder.
However, it was followed up by a shriek of terror.
'That sounded like Roy boss?!'
Nash grabbed eight gangers closest to the substation and breached the compound walls.
While clearing the station, they came across Mickey's body strung up like an ornament onto one of the generators.
A rebar was lodged directly into his throat.
The bandit was dead before they even breached the courtyard.
One of the Wraiths accompanying Nash spotted Royce's body hanging from the transmission tower. His entrails crisscrossed one another even as blood and guts dripped onto the floor below.
There could be no doubt now.
They were being hunted by a predator lurking in the darkness.
'Fall back to the car!' Nash and his gangers did not hesitate to follow the order, regrouping with the rest of the raffen.
'Where's Mickey and Roy!' Adam shouted above the growing storm.
'Fucking dead both of them!' A Wraith berserker responded. 'Something nailed Mickey to a generator, and Roy's hanging by his intestines over there!'
'Boss, what the fuck are we doing?!' Waylon demanded.
'Quiet! All of you!' Nash bellowed. 'Let me fucking think!'
The time for thinking was over, and only action would have saved their lives by this point.
The Headhunter was here, and there was not a soul on earth that could save their worthless lives.
A black shadow fell upon an unsuspecting Wraith snapping his neck before dragging him into the darkness. The only evidence of his existence was the clatter of his rifle bouncing off the blood-soaked ground.
A trio of Raffen, terrified of what would come next, loaded into one of the Wraith Quadra's and left their fellows behind. Nash, who was distracted by the missing Wraith, could do little but holler at his retreating comrades.
'You fucking cowards!' He need not worry.
A black mass sprinted straight into the Quadra with a speed and strength he could not keep up with. The mass impacted the vehicle like a runaway train, caving in the car's right side and launching it into the nearby gas station.
A fireball launched into the sky, mixing in plumes of flames and smoke with the rising storm. Nash and what was left of his men shined their torches in the blazing gas station's direction.
A shadow emerged from the fire like the devil ascending the pits of hell.
Flames licked across the Headhunter's armor, encasing him in a wreath of pure fire.
Similar to the birth of an ancient phoenix, the Spartan made his presence known and felt.
The Wraith's eternal damnation had arrived, but first judgment was to be cast upon them.
The deadmen unleashed a mass of hot lead onto the Spartan, but not a single round found purchase. Instead, he only grew closer, disappearing into the night before reemerging with a flash of lightning.
Cyrus fell upon the Raffen with little warning, slicing the throat of the closest bandit who foolishly fell to his knees in a desperate bid for survival.
An EMP grenade was thrown in the middle of the shaken Raffen survivors. Its corresponding detonation sent an electric magnetic pulse that disabled the Wraith Vehicles and caused several torches to sputter out.
Waylon and three of his compatriots, who managed to avoid the EMP grenade, unleashed their rifles in a vain attempt to pin the Headhunter, but Cyrus was far too agile for even their modified eyes to follow.
A Kukri slashed Waylon's throat, going deep enough to expose the bandit's esophagus.
His compatriots fared little better, suffering grisly and brutalizing deaths at the hands of the Spartan. Those raffen, who were still alive, attempted to fire on their killer but could only watch in despair as he disappeared into the howling dark.
'FUCK ME!' Adam bellowed in pure terror. 'IT'S THE FUCKING HEADHUNT-URK' A rebar the length of a full-grown man was launched out of the shadows at breakneck speed, penetrating his sternum and pinning him to the BD Shack's exterior wall.
The Wraith's brutal death capitalized on the raffen's already shattered morale. There was nothing Nash could do to reestablish order; it was every bandit for himself.
A raffen heavy gunner back to back with another compatriot was snatched into the night sky by a metal cable around his throat.
His friend followed after him, showing a rare streak of selflessness before it was snuffed out by a blade piercing his left eye. He didn't feel the resulting heave from the Headhunter as his neck snapped in two.
Nash watched a group of five Wraiths abandon their positions and run into the howling dark. Hoping that by not taking the vehicles, they would be able to bypass the Headhunter's wrath. The only indication of their failed attempt at survival was the torches dropping to the ground and the howl of excruciating pain.
The Wraith Lieutenant took stock of his remaining men.
Barely ten of them were still standing, and none of them would be any help, but he'd be damned if they didn't go down fighting.
Nash gathered what men would follow his command, ordering them to form a circle to cover all angles.
Shooters formed an outer perimeter, and berserkers brought up the center of the formation, deploying chem lights and flares taken from their vehicles to light up the area around them. Nash noted belatedly that the remaining ten bandits were cut down to nine in the confusion.
No doubt dragged into the shadows without anyone noticing otherwise.
Drake, one of the few Raffen carrying an Ajax rifle, raised his torch toward the gas station when a blur crossed his spotty vision. He found the recently missing raffen being dragged by his feet into the encroaching darkness.
He fired off a staccato of high caliber bullets in a vain attempt to save his comrade, but nothing came of it-just the terrifying sound of a man dying slowly before suddenly being cut short.
'We're dead. So fucking dead, we're deader than dead. Game over, man, game over!' A Wraith carrying a Carnage was losing his mind next to Drake, but before he could do anything, a body soared through the air straight at him.
The Raffen fired off a staccato of rounds from his Ajax that pierced the corpse but did nothing to prevent the heavyweight from impacting his torso.
Drake was sent flying backward, knocking over a Wraith berserker in the process. The formation was broken further when the Headhunter barreled through a raffen shooter who had his head caved in with a strike to the temple. When the rest of the formation finally took notice, gunfire lit up the night sky and echoed the booming sound of thunder.
Three Wraiths were killed in short order, torsos caved in, bones were shattered, and throats slit before they knew what hit them.
Nash pushed a Wraith Berserker in an attempt to put someone else in between the Spartan and himself.
It worked. The shadow's hand snatched the Berserker by the throat, choking the life out of the human sacrifice.
Adam raised his rifle to engage the shadow, but his barrage of bullets was blocked by the Berserkers flailing body soaking in the damage before being tossed aside.
His weapon clicked empty, forcing the Wraith to raise his rifle to beat the Spartan over the head with the stock of his Ajax.
The bandit's courageous but foolish effort was thwarted with a strike to the throat shattering his larynx and crushing his esophagus. Hands wrapped around his crushed neck in a vain attempt to extend his survival, but it was snuffed out within moments, blood leaking into his lungs drowning him.
Nash ran for the only structure available to him, and the Mercenary and Panam currently occupied it.
No doubt witnessing the horror show taking place outside their building.
The Wraith Lieutenant left the rest of his men to fend for themselves as he burst through the structure's double doors.
Seeking salvation from those he had threatened not long ago.
V could not comprehend what was happening outside; the only thing she could hear or see were flashes of flickering lights and the screams of the dying.
She had witnessed the aftermath of the Spartan's work, but she never thought it could be this brutal.
Panam wasn't fairing much better, she tried to hide it with her own lighthearted jokes, but it did little to settle either of their nerves.
'V?' The Mercenary's attention was drawn away from the window. 'Who the fuck did you call?'
'His name is Cyrus.' An incredulous look crossed Panam's features.
'How does that even explain anything to me!'
'It doesn't,' V admitted. 'But does that really matter now? We're alive because of him.'
'Yeah,' Panam responded in a subdued tone. 'But are you sure he's not here to kill us too?'
'Yes.' She did not share in V's confidence.
Despite the horror show taking place outside of their building, they were still able to maintain their composure… mostly.
Night City was not for the faint of heart; all who resided there knew that. The terrors that went on in the Metropolis every day hardened the souls of those who lived there.
Cruelty and brutality were not new experiences for either of the women, but Cyrus was capable of causing even those with a death wish to look over their shoulder.
Rationalizing death became as easy as breathing the longer you stayed in Night City. If they stuck around Cyrus long enough, his brutal deeds would be just that.
A deed.
Panam did not need to be told who V's 'friend' really was.
He was the Northside Headhunter.
A Night City legend that had only come about in a little more than a few weeks: his presence was revealed to the whole damned city when he butchered the Maelstrom to a man.
Stories spread like wildfire, reaching the Aldecaldos mere hours after the Maelstroms destruction. Saul was tempted to evacuate the Aldecaldos from their camp and escape to hills if he even got a scent of the Headhunter coming for them.
Luckily for the nomads, it seemed his attention was focused on the most degenerative of gangs and clans.
Scavengers, gangers, and raffen were the Headhunter's primary targets.
As long as the clan didn't partake in any inhumane crimes like human trafficking, murder, kidnapping, and harvesting, they would be in the clear.
The Aldecaldo's musing was cut off by the sound of a door swinging open and somebody tumbling to the floor. She traded a glance with V, who pulled her Unity's in response as they pushed to the ground floor.
Panam quickly spotted the terrified form of her former partner Nash groveling in the center of the arcade.
'Panam, please, you gotta help me!' The Wraith Lieutenant begged. 'I'll give you the merch and the car you can have it! I don't wanna die tonight!'
'Why the fuck would we do that?' The Aldecaldo barked back, rage spilling out of her eyes.
'Because that thing out there just slaughtered all my men, and it'll kill you too! You know it, I know it!' V only laughed at the Wraith's assumption.
'Who do you think called him here?' Nash's face paled in response, and before any more words could be said, the doors were slammed open by a raffen corpse smacking against an overturned arcade machine, their throat sliced down the middle.
The arcade's lights came on immediately after, while the rest of the town's illumination flickered in the dark.
The hulking and intimidating form of the Headhunter followed the dead raffen, and for the first time, Panam and V were able to witness the newest Night City legend in all his glory. He stood well over six feet but not enough to reach the daunted seven feet by their estimation.
His entire body was encased in segmented black armor that they were convinced could stand up to a tank shell and not crack. What drew their attention the most wasn't the armor, weapons, or height but instead the Headhunter's helm.
An impossibly dark visor that pulled in anyone who stared into it like an eternal abyss. Both V and Panam were startled by the Spartan's voice, which oozing with lethal but controlled intent.
'Ms. Vargas,' The Spartan nodded in V's direction before reciprocating the gesture to Panam. 'Ms. Palmer.'
V cleared her throat in an attempt to maintain some modicum of professionalism. 'Cyrus, good to finally meet you.'
The Mercenary finally noticed the small specks of blood mixed in with water dripping from his form.
Panam ignored that detail in favor of staying on the Spartan's good side.
'Thanks for the help,' she began. 'Doubt we'd be alive without you.'
Cyrus merely nodded back before turning his attention to the Wraith Leader. The Headhunter didn't say a word as he drew a Lexington from his holster.
'Wait.' Panam crossed the Spartan's vision, causing him to snap his head to the Aldecaldo. She lost her voice in minor terror before regaining it with a deep breath. 'Let me do it, this shiv screwed me over, and I want to return the favor.'
Cyrus regarded her for a moment, switching his attention from the Aldecaldo to the terrified Nash before consenting. He holstered his Lexington and gestured for Panam to go on with her retribution.
'With pleasure.' Panam drew her Overture in a smooth motion, pointing it at the Wraiths head.
There was no ceremony, no hesitation, and not even a moment for Nash to plead for his life.
*BANG*
The Wraith's head burst like a crushed watermelon.
Brain matter and blood splattered behind the raffen's body, caking the already bloodied arcade with more crimson than it had ever played host to.
Panam gave a deep sigh of relief as V approached the duo.
'So, feel better.' She chimed in.
A smile crossed Panam's face. 'A little. I'll feel way better if my car and merch are still intact.'
The Aldecaldo turned her attention back to Cyrus.
'You didn't blow that up, did you?' The Headhunter shook his head in response.
'Oh, good. Wasn't sure what I was going to do if I lost my baby.' Panam observed the growing thunderstorm outside.
'We should probably camp here for the night. Not going anywhere with that storm coming down. I'm beat as it is.' Panam gave a hearty yawn and stretched her arms, exasperating her enticing features and Drawing V and Cyrus's attention.
One for the show, the other for no reason at all other than she was speaking not a second ago.
When V finally had her fill with Panam's features, she drew the Spartan's attention. 'Care to stay the night?'
Cyrus was hesitant to respond at first.
He didn't need to stick around for anything.
In fact, there was little reason to waste any more time at a desolate frontier town with no tactical importance. Cyrus was seconds away from denying their request when Chamber's voice interrupted his thoughts.
'You're staying.' Cyrus was given no chance to respond.
'You are staying so you can get some rest, you monkey.' Chamber's mother algorithm was in full force. 'You have been running yourself ragged for two weeks straight now on TWO WHOLE HOURS OF SLEEP. If you do not say yes right now, so help me god, I will lock your armor for a whole fucking day!'
Unwilling to risk the ire of his irritated partner, the Spartan turned his attention to patiently waiting V. 'I'll stay until the storm passes.'
'Good, so will we,' An endearing smile crossed her face. 'In that case, you can dump the bodies outside and sleep down here with the rats. Ladies have the upstairs booths, so no peeking.'
V sauntered off to the upper levels with Panam in tow.
For a moment, the two women's figures were substituted by his former colleagues.
Their personalities were similar but far more exuberant and expressive.
The Merc reminded him vaguely of Casey direct, deadly, and to the point.
Oddly enough, the Nomad was just as similar to Eliza, forthright and stubborn to a fault.
His Spartan teammates weren't the most emphatic of individuals.
No Spartan III was, but the similarities were enough to make a connection.
In the end, Cyrus was left with one singular thought.
No matter their experiences or what planet they came from, women were creatures that would forever confuse him.