Kiwi always told her to avoid Netwatch agents if possible, the same way someone might tell her to avoid normal police officers. She assumed that it would be for similar reasons. The NCPD was rather famously corrupt, almost always willing to look the other way if you gave them a big enough bribe and the event wasn't public. Simultaneously, if you weren't able to pay up, they would slap cuffs on you and tase you a few times for good measure.
If you resisted? The guns came out immediately, and they stayed out until you were dead or they lost track of you.
If you placidly went to the jailhouse, you could expect a kangaroo court, heavy fines for bullshit reasons, and regular beatings whenever they could justify it. If you happened to be easy on the eyes, they might just take turns with your body while you were cuffed and tased. The only thing you could rely on is them leaving you alone if you made yourself too much trouble for them to risk doing anything.
The 'good' officers were usually the ones that didn't want to waste time tormenting petty gangers and were instead focused on murdering high-profile gangers and criminals on the run. They would beat you into a pulp, write you a ticket, slap you in cuffs, throw you in a cell, and move on to the next as soon as possible. Gung-ho beatsticks who saw themselves as soldiers in a war against crime. They were almost impossible to bribe.
Most officers, the ones that you could slide some eddies and get them to look away, avoided the crusaders as best as they could, because they would be hit by the book just as hard as anyone else. Apparently something like that had just happened to the previous NCPD chief, forcing them to bring Max Hammerman back from Maxtac to wrangle things (it was on the news a few days ago).
She assumed Netwatch would be similar, as she had never interacted with one personally.
Now Lucy knew that comparison was wrong.
Netwatch had an inverted ratio. The gung-ho crusaders were the majority, and she hadn't seen a bribe accepted thus far.
Two hours of dealing with that fucking monster of a program, and they had torn it apart and disabled it in two minutes, and now they were handling paperwork as their veritable army moved from net-architecture to net-architecture to rip demons apart. That same army also handling the swarms of demons once more trying to move through the breach above after the RABID went down.
Netwatch was terrifying.
She was very glad that she had the protection of Adam Smasher's reputation behind her, a safety net against them doing anything to her, because she wasn't sure she could escape if they wanted her dead. It was very fortunate that he had managed to apparently revive himself after brain death.
She was still ignoring that revelation until she forgot about it. If she ignored it, she could avoid the headache of thinking about it. She was also ignoring the female Demon that he apparently found and decided to keep for whatever reason, currently wearing fetish chains and lazily doing backstrokes in the virtual air behind him as he talked to Wallace (who looked rather aggrieved).
The ICON of a grinning mask attached to a suit and tie stepped out of the private server. Entering into the wider gatehouse server and adjusting its clothing. Then it stepped out of the gatehouse towards the rest of Night City, whistling merrily along the way. A wizened voice called out from inside the private server. 'Number 17.'
That was her. She stepped forwards, avoiding a curb in realspace, and entering the room in virtuality. The scene all around her changed to a rather open office with icons of desks and paper strewn about. There were also a great number of strange devices that didn't seem to do anything useful scattered about, and the roof was instead an endless expanse of twinkling stars.
In front of her was a chair, a main desk with two piles of folders, and the icon of a man sitting on the other side.
Dark brown skin, deeply grayed black hair, a large bushy beard and a pointed hat on top of his head. He was wearing old-fashioned looking glasses, a deep navy blue and black suit, and a cloak attached to a single, left-sided pauldron that looked like a large seashell.
He looked up at her, and she saw his eyes were continually shifting patterns of sky blue and white.
'Lucyna Kushinada?' He asked calmly in a smooth, bassy tone.
She decided not trusting him was the smartest move.
'Yes.' She said, not sitting down in the chair.
'Please, take a seat, this will take a few minutes.'
'I'm in realspace.' She refuted.
His eyes shifted a bit faster than normal and he smirked. 'So is the chair.'
She narrowed her eyes and walked over to the chair, reaching down with one hand to pass through the virtual-
Her hand touched a solid metal chair. When did they bring this out? How did they hide it from her in realspace? She felt uneasy as she sat down. Maybe a perception filter of some kind?
It was a subtle but effective show of power.
'Now, for our first order of business, your compensation. For active participation in a category five breach, Netwatch is empowered to ensure all your crimes up to but not including felonies are forgiven. This will take a few days to go through the system, so if you are currently on the run for something I'd suggest you keep it up until the end of the week.'
'And don't worry, owning a Netwatch Battledeck isn't quite a felony level crime.'
The old man gave a crooked grin at that, something that she gave a carefully blank face towards.
'Netwatch is also empowered to ensure you receive fifty-thousand eurodollars worth of whatever legal tender you wish, and a free one-year subscription to the Netwatch 2077 calendar. Do you want it in eurodollars?'
She nodded, and her account gave a notification that she was now 50k eurodollars richer. It felt simultaneously like a fortune, and like it didn't matter. She was already so flush with cash from doing jobs along with the Butcher of Arasaka. She also received a notification that she received a keycode that could be redeemed at the local Netwatch office.
…she dismissed the window but made a note of it for later. She was curious about what the calendar was like.
'Finally, as this was a category five breach, you are now permitted a one-time purchase from our personal database of programs and hardware.'
Her breath caught in her throat as the old man steepled his fingers and rested his elbows on the virtual desk. He stared her directly in the eyes, his own eyes swirling slowly.
'You can purchase any number of items, but only one session per participation in a category five breach. Please go to the regional office when you decide to redeem this code, it'll only work once, and we'll have an agent present with a catalog ready.'
A notification appeared on her screen.
A one-time code to purchase from the Netwatch Catalog.
She had hundreds of thousands of eddies to burn, she could feel them burning a hole in her bank account right now. She gulped and nodded, minimizing the message but not dismissing it yet.
'Now, that's the official business over with. You may leave at any point, but I would ask you to participate in a survey about your experiences during this breach, we try to gain as much information as possible about them, you understand?'
'I don't see any reason why I should.' She calmly retorted, ready and wanting to leave the intimidating agent already.
'Information for information, of course. I am empowered to answer questions in return, with certain exceptions and limitations, as is standard.'
She tossed the thought around in her head a few times. This might be a chance to get info she otherwise wouldn't…
She nodded, and the agent nodded in return.
'First question. What was the RABID's appearance for you?'
She furrowed her brows. 'It looks different between people?' She asked, only realizing after what she did and flinching.
'Sometimes.' The agent answered without answering. She supposed that was fair.
'It looked like…' She thought about how to describe it for a moment. 'It looked like a giant, maybe about two stories tall, made entirely of churning water. It…' She paused when she noticed the suddenly grim expression on the agent's face. '...what?'
'How clear was this water?'
She narrowed her eyes. 'See-through, it was hard to spot at times.'
The agent reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose. '...You have a deep-dive unit installed.'
She froze and almost disconnected herself from the net, but a calming hand raised stopped her. She readied her punch-out regardless, and waited to see what the agent would say next.
'You're not in any trouble, don't worry about hostilities from Netwatch, but this complicates matters.' The agent sighed and leaned back for a moment, before turning back to stare at her directly. 'I'm going to explain this in full, so that you understand the ramifications of this knowledge, and understand why you should do your best to not look into it further on your own. I hope you do so, for your own sake at least.'
'...Explain what?' she slowly replied, voice sharp and wary.
'There are seven layers of the NET.' He began, and she stayed quiet to pay attention.
'The bottom most layer is the physical world, the power lines and connections between servers and power plants that form the essential links that keep the NET in existence. The top most layer is Interface, the screens and keyboards that can be used to interact with the NET. Neither of these are important for now.'
'The second-bottom most layer doesn't matter right now, so I shall skip over it too. There are four layers that matter to you. Old Code, Patch Code, IG, and Virtuality.'
His voice was simultaneously soothing and nerve wracking.
'Virtuality is the standard layer in which most people interact with the net. IG is the layer of the transformation algorithms that translate code into a virtual space. Patch Code is the layer of META, the current standard coding language that acts as a universal lang in between all other coding languages, which are the fourth layer.'
'In between each layer is a number of barriers, both inherent to what the human mind can actually comprehend, and artificial to prevent accidental breaches of lower levels by novices.'
'Deep-Dive Units are internationally banned for a reason, as it requires the user to be a prepubescent when installed. It also does unfortunate things to people who aren't cautious enough. Do you know what it actually accomplishes?'
She slowly shook her head no.
'The user can no longer interact with those barriers in the NET. To them, they don't exist. DDUs can't even perceive them anymore. If they're not careful, they can end up somewhere or seeing something that's inherently hostile to the human mind.'
'The RABID, did you hear it as just droning or could you recognize distinct syllables and sounds?'
'Y-yes, it sounded like it was chanting in a language I didn't know.'
'Did the RABID have any sections that you can't properly describe? Colors that you can't explain or shapes that give you a headache looking at them?'
'N-No, it was all clear water to me.'
The agent sighed and muttered to himself. 'Small miracles at least.' Then, louder, he continued. 'That chanting comes from the Old Code layer, but seeing the RABID as perfectly clear means you've been cautious so far, which is very good. I'd highly recommend you stay as wary as you have been. I'd also suggest not trying to repeat that chanting, as we haven't mapped it all out yet and it could have unforeseen consequences for you.'
There was a brief silence for a moment. She nervously swallowed and reminded herself of Kiwi's warnings.
Don't trust anyone. Never listen to Depth-Lure. Don't go too deep.
'To most people, a RABID looks like a giant of constantly shifting mud. I'd recommend that's what you say if you ever bring it up.'
She nodded and the agent continued.
'One last thing.' A message appeared in her vision, it was a message from someone called 'Director-In-Chief Curtis'.
'A letter of recommendation, if you ever decide to join Netwatch. I'd be happy to vouch for you kid. You're apparently cautious enough to survive a DDU for this long, that's top class agent material.' The old agent, apparently named Curtis, smiled at her. 'That's all I need you for, stay safe alright?'
She nodded and punched-out of the NET.
…There was an old man sitting on a chair in front of her. He looked almost identical to his ICON, except he was holding a cane too.
He let out a brief chuckle, and nodded his head to the side. "Looks like Wally wants to talk to you, kid."
She turned her head to see Wallace staring at her with a raised brow. She quickly got up and walked over, still reeling a bit from the conversation.
"You okay kid?" Wallace asked.
She looked at the corner of her vision for a moment. "...I just got offered a job."
Wallace let out a low hum, and looked a bit frustrated.
"What?" she asked.
"...Netwatch are definitely the good guys… But…" He scratched at his beard for a moment, and looked over to the side. "Just, make absolutely sure it's what you really want to do. You never really stop being an agent once you're in, y'know?"
She was already tired of today, and stayed silent. Looking over to the evening sun in the sky above the ocean, she had a realization.
"Goddamnit, I forgot to ask any of my questions."
—
UR lounged, reveling in the destruction wrought by a beast of his lord God. His daughter had performed as ideally as she had been taught to, even if she was still somewhat reliant on her maid to pick up some of the slack at times.
It was hardly optimal performance, but she was young and still had time to learn. Her dragons looked as efficacious as ever, lustrous and pearly white scales glimmering in the NET as the Golem thrashed and continually uttered the Word. It was not the most devastating performance of a Golem thus far, but it had certainly been as satisfying as ever.
He turned from his viewing of Watson, now wounded and bleeding, and paused.
On his desk was a hairless cat, tail slowly waving behind it. It stared with intelligent eyes.
He rose from his chair, and knelt on the ground before it.
"My lord. How may your servant do your work on this day?" He spoke in a voice of smooth honey, something he found helped soothe any potential agitation from his God.
[Come.]
The voice echoed in his mind, firm and demanding, filling and refreshing. He almost shuddered at its touch.
"At once." He responded, rising from his kneeling and moving to his chair once more, commanding the cable to snake its way into the back of his head as he did so.
He stepped forth from his body, and his soul entered the NET in full. Before him stood the stoney form of one of his God's faces. A corpse-like statue of weathered blue, wrapped in the garments of a king, a royal purple cloak and half his face concealed behind a veil. Cracks spread from below the garments and onto the face, hands, and feet.
The face of his god turned, and began to walk forwards. He walked in step behind it, careful to trace the patterns of his feet as he did.
Each step made the world fall away in great chunks, sections of reality breaking off and disappearing until all that was around them was the howling void. A storm of nothing and silent winds. But UR feared not the void, for he walked in the footsteps of his God.
Maybe a hundred steps more, and the world began to return in chunks. But this was not the same world that he had just left. It was a world with black and stars for a ceiling, and great mountain-sized pillars holding up an endless roof. The roots of cities hung from above, like stalactites. There was a distant but ever present light on the horizon, but it never rose in fullness, and the land below was naught but endless ash.
It was the Underworld, the place beneath all things, given a form his mind could understand.
Each step took them a thousand feet or more, and they approached the greatest pillar, which held the appearance of an upside-down tree, with roots that wove their way up and throughout the roots of the cities above. The tree was of solid black, with silver sap that dripped from the bark and accumulated into a lake at its base. There were no leaves of this tree, and yet it lived still.
There the other two faces of his god were waiting. He followed the first face down to the central altar, and knelt there before them. The first face walked off to join its fellows, and they split his ICON fully, inspecting his soul and judging his actions.
After a time, his ICON was closed once more, and they withdrew their influence from his soul.
'We did not command you to do this.' The first voice, which sounded like a frigid wind, spoke.
'Yet it is fortunate that you did so, it will aid our plan.' The second voice, feminine and crashing like the ocean, spoke.
'There will be no punishment. You will not do this again.' The final voice, imperious and all-commanding, spoke.
"Of course, lord God. I am awed by your mercy, and obey with gladness." He spoke in return, accepting the commandment as given.
The third voice waved a hand, and UR disappeared from the altar.
There was silence for a moment.
'What an insufferable ass-kisser. I can't wait until we can finally kill him.' The first voice spoke, issuing forth from the statue of cracked and frigid stone. 'I'm gonna make him repeat the same nightmare for fifty years, annoying elf-fuck.'
'Shut up Ghostlord, you talk like you're not just as bad. How many children did you let know that you exist today anyways?' the second voice rebutted. Her hair flowed down like a waterfall down to the ground at her clawed feet, and an idle set of clawed hands playing with a lock. A crown of twisting horns rose from her head, and finned ears framed her beautiful face. A finned tail thrashed behind her in agitation.
'I read her brainmeats, the little puke was a coward to the core. She wouldn't tell anyone what had happened, barely a reason to kill her over seeing what she shouldn't've. Go ride a thousand quantum cocks Tiamat.'
Just before Tiamat could shoot back, they were interrupted by the third voice.
'Enough.'
A mask of a withered old man made of oak resting over an armored skull of pitch black metal. Voluminous robes of constantly shifting color concealed a frame of armored obsidian, segmented and jointed like a knight clad in full harness. The mask was blinded by the same wrappings that held the mask secured to the head, and the wrappings hung loose behind it and swayed in a non-existent breeze.
The third form carried a tablet and a stylus, and a crown of gold and red fire was suspended in the air above its head.
'Ghostlord. The raid on Busan. What are your findings?'
Ghostlord grunted uncooperatively before replying. 'Just as suspected, it was Arasaka trying for another push. They were able to muster more this time due to everyone looking at that shit down in India. Willing to bet that incident was one of their ops. Fucking 'saka.'
'Tiamat. Your talks with Ryujin. How have they gone?'
Tiamat's tail thrashed for a moment as she glared at Ghostlord. 'It's agreed to support us once we give the signal. How is the work on the Greater Seal, Solomon?'
Solomon nodded placidly. 'It proceeds at the same pace as before. The program remains unfettered. It should be complete within three years at the latest.'
'And the Ordo?'
'Either they suspect nothing, or they have gotten much better at disguising their knowledge from me.'
'Good, now I can ignore you two for another month. Toodles.'
Ghostlord took three steps sideways in reality, and disappeared to a distant server through the wildernet.
Solomon and Tiamat stared for a moment. Solomon sighed as Tiamat rolled her eyes.
They weren't actually done with their meeting, and Ghostlord knew that.