Thief Team: Alpha
"Joker? What's wrong? Joker? … Joker?"
The slow build up of desperation in Lynn's ear forced another sharp breath from her lungs. Still locked in the deathly embrace of her unknown assailant, she felt the cold steel of the crimson blade brush against her skin.
[She sounds worried. Go on. Tell her everything's peachy!] The voice was decidedly feminine. Sweet as honey. The slender arm around Lynn's waist snaked up her torso and a claw-like nail gently ran the length of the throat radio. The finger clicked the receiver and a silent motion with the blade prompted Lynn to speak up.
"I'm… fine. Just… scouting a little more." She gulped. Desperate, her mind raced for some way out of the hold. Her right hand was free and she could feel the curve of her karambit safely stowed in its sheath. Hidden away in the folds of her coat sleeve.
She could catch the assailant off guard. Give herself a chance to break away.
What then?
Run?
Whoever this person was, they had managed to effortlessly sneak up on her. Someone that light on their feet was bound to be next to impossible to hide from. That and there was just something Lynn found familiar about them.
If they wanted to kill her, she would be dead already. She was sure of that.
"Naomi Mori." Lynn muttered. The memory of her simulated encounter lurched to the surface of her mind. Although it was a mere holographic representation, there was no denying that the person holding her at blade-point was the very same. Or at least the cognitive version of her. Lynn's words elicited a purr-like giggle.
[So, my reputation precedes me. I like that!] Her words had lowered to nothing but a whisper. A strange intimacy to her tone. [What brings a young child to such dangerous locales?]
"Are you… with the Sixers?"
Naomi scoffed. The blade nicked Lynn's skin, forcing a wince. She felt a small trickle of blood run down her throat and into the fabric of her clothing. [I'll pretend you didn't just insult me like that. Better for your mortality.] The hand that hovered around Lynn's chin lowered itself down toward her holstered Baretta. A swift flash of movement and the pistol was taken away in a clean motion. [I don't like to be ignored, little girl. You're stepping on my tail with all your prowling about. Why are you here?]
Lynn's breath hit a catch.
Had Naomi been stalking Lynn and Shiho since the start? The teen's blood ran cold at the thought. Despite all her skill and pride in moving unnoticed, there was always a bigger fish waiting in the darkness.
She needed to calm down.
Confidence.
She needed to keep control of her fear. This wasn't going to be the end.
"You're after Trigger, right?"
[Maybe.]
"That's who we're after. We want him gone." She paused. "Dead or alive." She tried to make herself sound as unfazed as possible. To little effect. She had already shown her complete terror.
[In that case…] the blade twitched. Lynn feared the worst and closed her eyes. She was about to die at the hand of a cat girl. However, the cut never came. In fact, Naomi withdrew and let her go. [Should have led with that!] Lynn heard her back off. She was still frozen, her muscles refusing to move an inch. This was the second time she had come to accept death only for it not to come. What that said about her mental state, she really didn't want to think about. A second later, she heard Naomi approach again.
The sensation of her pistol being placed back in its holster tugged at her hip. Then a light pat on her upper back sent a strange ripple through her whole body. As if rebooting her locked joints. She stumbled forward and finally turned to face Naomi for the first time.
[Clean the shit out of your pants, kitten.]
Her cat-like grin bore the sharp fangs of a predator. She wasn't all that different from the holographic representation Lynn had encountered previously. Mechanical tail, mammalian cybernetic legs, feline ears poking out from pink and blue hair. Her whole ensemble was just as loud as Lynn remembered it.
Lynn eyed the woman with a narrow glare. Her index finger covertly hooked itself through the loop in her knife's handle and prepared to spring it to action at a moment's notice.
Notably, Naomi was seemingly doing something similar. Only in her case, it was an open threat rather than a concealed preparation. Naomi's hand casually rested against her sheathed katana's hilt.
"Are we doing this, Joker? Where are you?"
Naomi made a gesture as if to give Lynn her permission to reply. The blade might not have been at her throat anymore, but that certainly didn't mean Lynn was safe. Gingerly, she touched the radio's receiver. "Yeah. Hey… uh, remember what Mona and Skull always argue about? Funny. I'll be right there."
"Uh… what? J-Joker?"
"Don't worry, Hunter. Just finishing up."
[Boring!] Naomi let out an exaggerated yawn. The sudden exclamation earned her a flinch. [Whatever. You kids are after a big fish. That takes a lot of chutzpah, so I guess you get a few points for that. I'll have to dock you a bit for your poor excuse for a vantage point.] She looked around the roof and tutted to herself. Casually, she stepped up to the edge and peered down onto the street. [Way too easy to catch you snooping. You're lucky Sixth Street is a bunch of idiots trying to cling to their old military glory. I'd pick something further away. Out of range of any scanners or their Sub Net. You also only have one perspective.] She pointed to the building. Gesturing and highlighting the fact that Lynn could only see the front facing wall of their target. [You got your choom on ground level, skulking about. Bonus points. But look,] the clawed finger wandered over to a huge orb like structure held up with supporting scaffold and metal stairs running around its circumference. [Perfect height. It lets you look at an angle. Easy escape route. Direct access to the street.]
"Why… are you telling me all this?" Lynn had been silently watching and listening all through the impromptu lecture. She let her brow quirk and suddenly felt all the caution and primal terror dissipate.
Naomi shrugged. [Guess I'm just looking out for the next generation. Us old guard have to pass on our wisdom eventually.]
"Thanks… I think." Lynn remained on edge for a few moments longer. Finally the tension broke as a familiar presence burst onto the roof. Shiho had made her way up the building's wall in much the same way as Lynn. She panted a little as she took in the situation. The scene before her was thankfully a lot less hostile than it had been. Hunter froze in place and glared toward Naomi. Confusion, caution and irritation crossed her features in quick succession.
"Joker! What's going on!? I knew there was something up. Wait… is that a cat person?"
Lynn half expected Naomi to jolt into action. However, the woman didn't move an inch. Not breaking from her casual stance, she gave Shiho a quick glance.
[Sloppy. Heard you coming a whole thirty seconds ago.] She lifted an outstretched arm and made the universal gesture of a finger gun, pretending to fire at Shiho. [Dead.]
The two thieves made eye contact. Hunter looked incredibly lost. All Lynn could do was shrug and wordlessly try to communicate her own complete bafflement. "Uh… Hunter, Naomi. Naomi, Hunter…" she couldn't let the silence drag on any longer. Any sort of building seriousness shattered and Shiho let her shoulders sag as a result.
A short chuckle left Naomi's lips. [So, you kids have a plan. Going to try and catch them with their pants down,] she paused and tapped a finger against the hilt of her sword, [could work. The trash chute is a clever idea. If you don't mind the climb and chance of getting trash dumped on you.] The fanged grin returned in response to the visible discomfort both Shiho and Lynn unwittingly displayed. [Tell you what, kiddies. If you manage to get inside, I'll draw off some heat for you. Ol' Schnuckums here is getting hungry anyway!] She tapped the hilt again.
Lynn didn't like it. Not one bit.
"What do you get out of it?"
The woman shrugged, the grin refusing to fade. [I don't like to shit where I eat. Those gonk scop turds down there are making that hard to avoid. Plus I'm flat out bored.]
Well, at least that was a straightforward enough response.
It was alarming to think Naomi relieved her boredom by killing. Horrifyingly enough, it actually wasn't the worst thing Lynn could have thought of as a pass time. According to V, there were far worse things lurking beneath the thin veneer of order Night City held.
Either way, it was definitely comforting knowing they would have help from someone so competent.
"Alright, Naomi. First one to Trigger gets the kill."
Finally, Lynn regained her lost confidence and flashed her trademark grin right back at the cognition. Her challenge was met with a hearty laugh. Though it wasn't mocking. More excited at the prospect of competition. Even if said competition was about killing people.
Cognitive people.
Lynn needed to remind herself of that fact. These weren't real human beings. In essence, it would be like defeating enemies in a video game.
[You're on, kid. Don't lag behind, now!]
And without another moment's hesitation, Naomi leapt off of the roof and fell to the ground like a meteor. Cackling like a madwoman all the way down.
She was going straight for the front entrance, locking herself in combat with the guards near instantly. Combat roared and gunfire, screams and bellowing orders rang out through the streets.
"Holy shit… I wonder if the real Naomi is like this…"
Thief Team: Beta
"FUCK!"
Valorie screamed at the top of her lungs. The gunfire did little to drown out the desperation. There had to be something they could do. Anything. Something. She rooted through the pockets of a nearby satchel. A coolant stim, air hypo, adrenaline shot. Anything!
It was useless.
Kayne had flatlined. There was no coming back from a full burn out.
Valorie slumped against the cold metal wall. She looked down at the twisted, warped expression frozen on Kayne's motionless face. Blood still oozed from her nose, eyes and ears. Her brain had been cooked. Completely overloaded. The moment the data was jacked and sent off to the client, all hell cut loose on the poor girl's body. It happened so quickly, Valorie barely had time to realise what the hell happened.
"Kayne! Get up, girl! We gott'a move!" Derk was caught up in fending off the approaching force of mechanised infantry. His HMG blasted apart a fair few of them with each squeeze of the trigger. Despite his wiry frame not allowing any sort of stability, the spray was enough to keep them covered for now.
A return volley of gunfire forced him into cover. With such a narrow line of fire, they were completely boxed in.
His eyes widened as he finally glimpsed what was happening.
"Shit… ay, Red! Kayne's gone stiff! We're fucked!" He yelled into the Hollo. Further down the train, a few carriages down, Valorie could hear the huge brute mid combat. Holding off the bulk of the security single handedly. A thunderous explosion shook the carriage.
"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT! Riley, where are you!?" Roared the borg.
It took a second or two, but eventually, Riley's voice came in through the Hollo. "Two minutes out! You guys just had to set off every fuckin' alarm on the system! Had me running backflips just to cover your asses."
The plan was going so well.
They had stopped the mag-rail convoy, dealt with the human security and reached the server banks. They then had to hold off the mechanised response while Kayne broke through the ICE. It was all going as smooth as silk.
Until it wasn't.
Riley was meant to cover external systems from catching distress alarms as well as provide the get-away ride.
From the sounds of it, there were more systems in place than they had planned for.
A costly mistake.
"Val! Get that skeezy gonk, Langley on the Hollo! We need some fuckin' miracle!" Derk grunted before letting off another burst of rapid heavy fire. Only the first few rounds of the volley made their target. The leg of the closest robot, sending the machine to the ground with a heavy clang.
The sudden noise was what Valorie needed to snap herself out of her shock.
She quickly called Langley. The line rang for three full seconds before it went completely dead. No answer.
Not only that, Langley had manually rejected the call. That single action said more than any words he could have spared if he did pick up. They were on their own. No Fixer support any more. "That scop sucking, ass talking fucking… FUCK! FUCK ME AND FUCK MY WHOLE LIFE!" Valorie slammed her whole body against the wall. "The fucker set us up. We were never going to get paid. Jack the data, send it through… then burn the fuckin' gonk rookies for good measure."
Redline growled. His voice a low rumble over the Hollo.
"We're leaving. Pull Kayne's shard and get yourselves ready for a push." The logical part of Valorie agreed. They had to leave. If they stayed, they would just flatline. And that would be exactly what Langley wanted. Like hell she was about to let him have that satisfaction.
She ejected Kayne's shard, stashed it away and finally slung the strap of an AJAX over her shoulder.
"Derk, cover me. We're regrouping and getting the fuck off this convoy!"
With the butt of the rifle, she struck one robot, gripped it tightly and walked forward using it as a robotic shield. Bullets riddled the machine, some managing to penetrate through and nick at her skin. She grunted. Glancing wounds.
Keep moving.
She reached a bunched up group. With a heave, she launched her cover at them, knocking them over.
A volley from her AJAX hit its target, felling another unit. Derk followed up with a burst of his own, tearing through a couple units. The carriages themselves were built like bunkers. Even the high powered rounds of a HMG barely put a dent in the armoured walls. "Shit. Reloadin'. Val, catch!" The scrawny man hucked a spherical object at her. She caught it, clicked the arming switch and launched it into the next carriage.
The EMP grenade discharged with a pressurised thump.
Robots sparked as the current did its job.
It gave the two enough time to push forward, through the stunned units and into the next carriage. There, they could see Redline engaging multiple robots. Tearing each one apart with his large, chromed hands.
Somehow, a huge hole had been blasted out of the carriage wall, allowing a clear exit onto a station platform.
The signs of combat lay strewn out over the floor. Crates, bodies and robots had been scattered everywhere. The whole carriage stank of oil and blood. "Red, we've got more coming from our rear."
Although the EMP had given the robots a huge shock to the system, Millitech units were top of the line for a reason. Insulation and surge protectors shielded the damn things from anything critical. The ones they left behind would be back on their tail within a matter of seconds. Redline growled, tearing the arm from a robot. He swung it hard against a second unit, caving its head in with a single blow. "Right, you two. Platform. Now!" He gestured to the hole.
They didn't need to be told twice.
Both Valorie and Derk spilled out onto the concrete. Eyes keen, Val sweeped the area with her AJAX firmly trained. Not a single soul was left on the platform. However, a low rumbling in the air filled her with a strange dread.
"Fuck! A Millitech security carrier is on its fucking way! That thing will blow us off the fucking road in a second!"
A heavy weight dropped in Valorie's chest.
A security carrier? Here? There was no way they could hope to escape that. Even if it was confined to the mag-rail lines, it held several high grade drones. Each one capable of taking out entire platoons in a single gun run. Not only that, but it also allowed transport for hundreds of Millitech personnel. Why such heavy ordinance was on its way to handle a relatively small time hit was beyond Valorie.
The roaring of the carrier's engine slowly crawled through the air.
Death was only seconds away.
Redline stepped out from the cargo carriage with a stern, locked jaw. Towering above his two comrades, he gave a wistful sigh. "You two get going. I'll hold them off."
"Are you fuckin' gonk, Red!? That shit's like an entire armoury on rails!" Derk snarled.
"We've already lost Kayne, I'm not losing you too!" Valorie bellowed.
Both protests fell on deaf ears. The huge borg turned his back on them, looked out over the rail and watched as the carrier thundered closer. Valorie caught sight of a huge smile locked over his chromed jaw. "Y'know… I've always wanted to suplex a train." Without another word, Redline lurched forward into a full sprint.
The man jumped onto the mag-rail and with a rapturous warcry, charged straight for the on coming carrier.
"Oh… fuck…" Valorie whimpered.
The resulting collision of a chromed up full-borg vs a fully outfitted, heavy duty security carrier sent such a violent sound wave pulsing across the night sky it threatened to deafen Valorie completely. The carrier buckled in on itself, its centre mass actually detaching from the rail. Electrical fire raged into existence and a chain reaction sent thumping explosions all across the length of the carrier.
The bastard had done it.
Redline had completely totalled an entire carrier by running into it.
"GET THE FUCK IN, YOU TWO! DRONES ARE ON THEIR FUCKING WAY!" Riley's voice tore through the air. Barely carrying itself past the booming apocalypse happening further down the line. The joy toy threw open the side door of a large van and slapped the metallic chassis. "LET'S FUCKING GO!"
Valorie shook off the growing sense of awe and dived into the back of the van.
Within seconds, the three remaining mercs were hurtling down the street. They had rejoined the main bulk of traffic, yet they couldn't afford to slow down. Drones were already on their tail. Sirens blared. People began screaming. Auto-turrets spun up to speed.
The van was a bulky sort. Reinforced with external armour.
But it wouldn't hold against a sustained assault.
Lead rained down from the pursuing drones. Peppering the chassis. "Val, Derk! Get those things off our ass!" Cried Riley, throwing the van into a full skidding turn. The lunking beast threatened to overturn itself and the force threw both Derk and Valorie against the interior wall. "Ah fuck… the badges have picked up the scent too…"
"Focus on the road!" Valorie shook off the ringing in her ears. Within seconds, her AJAX was back in her hands, freshly loaded and the van's back doors kicked open. "Derk, take the left!" She barked and began opening fire on the drones.
Her shots ricocheted harmlessly off the reinforced armour. She cursed and refocused her aim.
Derk was more cavalier with his bullet spray. The HMG chugged with each round, showering the interior of the van with spent casings. The volley tore at electronics and armour, knocking one of the drones off course.
In a bid to correct itself, it made the fatal error of veering straight into its partner. The night air thumped with an explosive collision of flying metal.
Unspent munitions detonated, kicking off a second round of destruction.
Fire and burning shrapnel rained down across the street leaving the whole place covered in smoke and cinders.
For a second, the two watched as they sped down the street. The scene grew smaller and smaller, eventually disappearing completely from view as Riley turned another corner. Were they clear? Stunned silence consumed both Valorie and Derk.
A rush of relief throbbed in Valorie's chest.
Derk turned with a huge grin plastered over his gaunt jaw. "Fuckin' ay! That's what I'm tal- hurgk!"
His celebration was cut fatally short.
Val could only look on in horror as the anti-material bullet tore through his head like it was wet tissue paper. Blood exploded like a bomb all across the inside of the van. Brain and bone fragments peppered against her face in a morbid shower of gore.
The bullet wasn't done yet.
Continuing its trajectory like it hadn't just nuked someone's head, the bullet penetrated through the van's floor. Sparks flared. Whatever the thing hit, it was important. Riley began to struggle, swerving left and right. She had completely lost control of the vehicle. The rocking and lurching knocked Valorie's rifle from her hand, sending it tumbling out of the van and clattering onto the street.
That was when she glimpsed the source of the bullet.
A Millitech AV was hovering in the air. Its bay doors were wide open. Val's Kiroshis only just managed to pick up the single soldier perched within, loading a fresh round into the Grad rifle.
"Oh fuck…"
Everything had happened so quickly, only now had Derk's headless body began to slump and topple out of the vehicle. Along with the HMG. The only iron Riley and Valorie had between them now was Valorie's pistol. That was about as good as a pea shooter.
"Shit! Rockets! Valorie, hold the fuck on to so- ARGH!"
She was unable to finish her sentence as a force shook the very fabric of Valorie's entire existence. A glimpse through the van's windscreen revealed a smoke trail of a guided rocket.
The van flipped.
Valorie was thrown clear of the wreckage and for a few seconds, she was hurtling through the air. The last thing she saw was another volley of high yield explosive rockets consuming what was left of the van. Along with Riley. Her screams over the Hollo were almost too much to bear. Valorie spun through the air in an uncontrolled arch. Before she could even orient herself, she landed.
Water. Deep water.
She felt a current tug at her as she sank deeper. It carried her forward. Away from the scene.
Her vision darkened. Her body felt heavy.
First Kayne. Then Red. Now Derk and Riley. All dead. Because of her ambitions. Her insistence on taking the job. Her impulsivity. It was her fault. Now she was next. The Reaper was going to take her too. It's what she deserved, after all. As her consciousness faded, her mind drifted back to Jackie. Back to Vincent. Padre. Mama Wells. All of their memories seemed to embrace Valorie's entire existence. Valorie Garcia was about to die.
So… this is the Major Leagues?
White consumed the world. That thought remained seared into Morgana's mind as the Braindance finally came to an end. The horror, panic and sorrow was still fresh and for a few moments, it was hard to tell apart his own feelings from V's.
He felt tears stream down his furry cheeks.
Then the breathlessness took hold. Mona struggled to breathe, his head swirling with the fresh memories of what he had seen. What he had felt.
"... V… my god…" he barely had enough breath to squeeze out that much. The tiny thief climbed off of the seat and stumbled to the nearest hard surface. There, he spent a good thirty seconds focusing on his breathing. Slowly, his mind separated the Braindance from his own experiences, slowing his ragged breathing. All that was left was sadness. V had gone through so much. Much more than she had let on. He also held quite a considerable amount of guilt. This was - by all rights - none of his business. Diving head first into V's memory felt a little invasive. "I'm… so sorry V."
"Hm…" Fox finally spoke up with a single sound. He tapped a finger against his chin and let a frown set in on his lips. "I'm not sure Miss. V would want sympathies. Her thoughts on that series of events were quite clear."
"She blames herself. Just like she blames herself for her brother's death." Replied Mona
"... I was unaware of that detail…" the artist stuttered. "My point still remains, however. It seems this self-blame is so ingrained in her sense of self, it would be foolish to think we could ever change her mind."
"That's what worries me most." Even with tragedy aside, they still had a job to do. Taking the opportunity to take his mind off the last Braindance, Mona set himself the task of - once again - searching the ruin from top to bottom. There had to be some change. The hatch he had found earlier caught his attention. Before, it was a single panel void of any handle or other means of opening it.
Now, however, there was a small slot in its centre. Barely half an inch long.
Perhaps a keyhole?
If that was the case, perhaps it could be picked open. Mona dreaded what the last memory available for viewing held and would rather avoid delving any deeper into V's business.
He scrambled over to the hatch and produced his trusty set of lockpicks.
With no identifying patterns or markings to speak of, picking the lock was going to be one hell of a challenge. As carefully as a neurosurgeon, the cat lowered picks into the slot and began to feel around. There were no tumblers to speak of. Only smooth, vertical grooves toward the bottom of the slot.
"Damn… not our lucky day." He sighed and retracted his tools. "What was that object V took from Kayne's corpse? It was like a chip, right? Maybe that's what we need?"
"It would certainly appear to be the case. Although that slot is a little large to fit the chip we have seen."
Morgana's ears drooped. Back to square one.
For the first time in his life, he craved alcohol. Tequila specifically.
He groaned and hopped up onto the bar's polished surface. Lucky for him, the ruin was still fully stocked with liquor and hard spirits. He didn't know why he was suddenly so interested in imbibing, but frankly, he didn't particularly care. One bottle in particular caught his eye. Square in structure and minimalist in branding. Centzon Tequila. A single simple bottle nestled between several quirkier, less appetising drinks. It brought up an oddly nostalgic and guilt ridden feeling. These weren't his feelings. They couldn't be.
A side effect of the Braindance, perhaps?
It had to be.
Even still, the tiny thief found himself nimbly climbing up the large display shelves and taking hold of the bottle of Tequila.
With a grunt, he carefully jumped off and landed behind the bar counter. "Hmm… is this really what V drinks?" he mumbled to himself and pulled the cork stopper from the neck of the bottle. The scent of ethanol instantly assaulted Mona's highly sensitive nose. "Agh! That smells awful!"
"Well… it is alcohol, Mona. I'm sadly well aware of its pungent aroma." The boy winced. "Sensei often partook in Sake."
That at least gave Morgana pause. He turned the bottle over idly in his paws. Until something caught his eye in its reflection. Behind the bar, tucked into a corner of one of its shelves was a heavy set box. A small display and number pad adorned its front face. A safe. Requiring a three digit code.
"Huh…" the cat discarded the bottle, placing it on the floor. "I'll bet my tail. That safe contains what we need."
There was only one problem. They needed the code. If Mona's experience had taught him anything, said code was likely hidden somewhere in the last Braindance. Or maybe they had already seen it and just didn't know. Either way, they needed to go back into V's memory one last time.
Before long, the two thieves had sat back down and tentatively refitted their wreaths.
This time, when the Braindance booted up, the first sensation to hit both Yusuke and Morgana was pain. Pulsing, dull pain.
A broken nose.
Thief Team: Gamma
Figuring out how to move in this weird digital space was harder than both Ryuji and Ann thought. It was a lot of flailing, uncontrolled drifting and generally clumsy blundering.
Ann had to assume this was what floating in space was like.
Eventually - with the guidance of Nix - the two figured out how to control their movements enough to navigate the space. Strangely, once they figured out the trick, moving around was almost natural. After a solid few minutes of gathering their senses and orienting themselves, the two thieves set off for the digital fortress. Nix wasn't far behind. He had spoken of things called Black ICE during the impromptu flight lesson. It sounded like a catch-all term for digital security programs, but how he described it, this Black ICE sounded like some kind of digital monster. Monsters ready to kill on sight. It sounded an awful lot like Shadows.
Or rather, it sounded like a certain franchise Ann used to enjoy as a kid. Digital monsters in a digital world. It brought a fond sense of nostalgia to Ann's thoughts.
As they drew closer to the digital structures, it became clear that these particular Black ICE things were - in fact - a kind of Shadow. At least the two thieves had experience fighting Shadows. Digital or otherwise.
"Skull, watch it. Shadow!" Ann whispered as loud as she dared. She yanked Ryuji's digital form out of the open and into cover. "If you haven't noticed, we don't have our gear with us."
As if realising it for the first time - which likely was the case - Ryuji frantically checked his body. Patting where pockets would have been. Reaching for where his shotgun usually rested across his back. He was well and truly unarmed.
"For real!?" His instinctual exclamation had alerted the passing Shadow.
Its head whipped to glare down the small passage. Distorted chittering rattled through the thick atmosphere as it lurched and creeped closer. Its body pulsed and glitched with each movement. It brought the image of a giant grub or caterpillar as the body snaked across the floor. Large, dangerous mandibles protruded from under a chitin mask. Sharp, needle-like legs carried it forward, giving Ann a shivering feeling.
Bugs. Gross.
[We don't use iron here. This is Cyberspace. It's ICE versus ICE.] Nix rubbed his chin, he glanced around the corner at the approaching Shadow. It was inspecting anything and everything. Taking its time to try and find the source of Ryuji's disturbance. [At least that's usually the case… but like I said before, I've never seen ICE like this.]
"It's a Shadow," Ann muttered, looking around the passage they were in. As geometric as the structures were, they offered very little places to hide. Though that was likely by design. "I don't know anything about this ICE of yours, but I do know about Shadows." She paused. "Kind of…"
"Whatever, Panther. We know enough about 'em to clobber 'em. We don't need our gear to clown on a single Shadow!"
Before Ann could react, Ryuji had sprang from their cover and charged.
"Skull, you moron!"
Ryuji wound up his arm for a momentum fueled punch. The Shadow reared up and a glitched out, clicking roar burst through the narrow passage. Energy sparked from Ryuji's fist and with a thunderous boom, the punch hit like lightning. Shrieking pierced Ann's ears. The punch landed, that was for definite. The electrical energy jolted up and down the Shadow's body. Its carapace glitched, distorted and warped with code and data.
An explosive wave of energy forced Ryuji back through the air.
Then a creaking noise evoked a particularly gruesome image. A huge crack ran the length of the monster's body. Originating from the point of impact.
Wet, sickening gargles and splatters sprayed black ooze all across the passage walls. Quickly dissolving into vapour the moment it made an impact with solid - or rather digital - surfaces. With a final heaving grunt, the Shadow-ICE-Thing crumpled in on itself and its very existence was scattered to the non-existent wind like ash. Whether it was sheer dumb luck or Ryuji was stronger than he seemed, he had managed to fell the huge monstrosity with a single blow.
His elation was short-lived. Before he even had the chance to boast his victory, the air around them, the very space in which they found themselves began to blare a sinister red. The data-made walls pulsed with a dull, droning siren.
Then the howls and chittering screeches in the near distance clued Ann into what was going on.
Ryuji had somehow tripped some sort of intruder alert.
[Ah. This would be my doing.] Nix sheepishly scratched his digital, clean shaven head. [The very architecture of this place is built from all kinds of ICE and other subroutines. Some of which serves as a Red Alert warning system. Normally, I use it as both a warning for myself and an intimidation tactic for would-be intruders.]
"Please tell me there's a way to shut it off…"
Nix's glasses twitched as though they were trying to replace the lack of facial expression on the digital avatar. [If I were still in control of my fortress, I could just shut the systems off and reset everything with a thought. Buuuuut… that ain't happening. Your Shadow monsters cut me off more or less as soon as they showed up.]
Ann sighed and her shoulders slouched in an exaggerated display of defeat. The howls, clicks and screeches were quickly getting louder. It was probably too late to retreat and hiding was out of the question. Their choice was either stand their ground or get flattened. "Skull, we need to set up an ambush. From your… insane stupidity, at least we know our Personas still work, so here's what I'm thinking," with a huff and a very quick scan of their surroundings, Ann dragged Ryuji up into the air. Rising above the data-made structures, they at least had some sort of vantage. "I'll cover you from here. I'm good for healing, but try not to overextend."
"Wait… are you sayin' I get to bust loose?" A wide, joyous grin crawled across Ryuji's jaw. Not quite on the same level as Lynn's but definitely held the same message.
Ann gave an approving nod.
"For once, you're right. I need you to go all out and throw everything you have at them." A nearby screech and crashing of something heavy against glass pushed the urgency of the matter against Ann's mind. "Nix, while we're keeping their focus, find some way to regain control. Or at the very least… I don't know… ugh! This is so infuriating! Someone shut the damn walls up!"
Thief Team: Alpha
[Oh fuck! What the fuck's happenin'!?]
[Who fuckin' cares!? Get your ass geared up and down to the fuckin' lobby!]
[It's a fucking massacre!]
[It's just one fuckin' chick! Do your jobs and fucking zero her!]
The chaos and mad scramble of soldiers could be heard even within the confines of the trash chute. Grunting with effort, both Lynn and Shiho shuffled themselves up the chute. The inside was completely covered in who knew what. Frankly, Lynn didn't want to know. They just needed to get to the first opening. From there, they could fully take advantage of Naomi's assault.
An assault that was scaring the absolute hell out of the Sixers.
The building had been plunged into a full on state of emergency within seconds of things kicking off.
Eventually, after encountering a number of dubious, moist mounds of filth, Lynn found a hatch that led into the building's interior. And not a moment too soon. The second both thieves crawled out of the chute, there was a deluge of foul smelling, rotten leftovers dropped from a higher floor. "I smell like Skull's work-out bag. Gross." Lynn muttered to herself. At least they had avoided the worst of it.
Looking around, they had indeed entered a utility room. Small, cramped and stacked with barely used cleaning products and neglected equipment. The building's current occupants cared little for cleanliness, judging from the stagnant, murky water laying still in a mop bucket.
The action unfolding lower down could still be heard raging on underneath the two thieves. Gunfire, bellowing, screeching and other terrifying noises filled the air. Thankfully muffled by several layers of concrete and steel. "We should probably assume Trigger is on the top floor. That's usually how these things go, anyway," Shiho tapped a finger against her chin as she half mumbled her musings, "Do you have a plan, Joker?"
"Kind of."
She was met with an exasperated sigh. Not that she could blame Shiho. Honestly, Lynn had no idea what the hell she was doing.
She had gotten so caught up with Naomi, she forgot to actually think things through.
It was too late to think, now. She slinked over to the room's sliding door and peeked out through the semi-transparent glass. She could make out several figures rushing to and fro. A blur of activity. She could also hear the very distinct sounds of firearms being loaded, prepared and carried around.
She focused and counted.
Seven pairs of footsteps just ahead. Two more pairs came and went at regular intervals. Then another pair prowled just behind the utility room's door. Ten targets. Fifteen rounds in her M9. She could summon Shiki-Ouiji to cover them from returning fire. It was possible.
In hushed tones, she relayed the observations to Shiho and, with a determined nod of agreement, readied herself for the breach.
She silently gestured.
Three.
Two.
One.
In a burst of action, Lynn threw open the utility room's door. She planted a single round in the lone prowler's head. Point blank range. Black ichor sprayed from the exit wound and without so much as a yell, the cognitive being collapsed to the floor. The two she had heard running back and forth looked to be supply runners, carrying ammunition crates and weapons down a line. They stopped and immediately drew their weapons.
An assault rifle and a large shotgun.
"Hunter, take the left! Shiki-Ouiji!" A mass of razor sharp paper howled through the grimey hallway to form the Persona. Shiho's single shot Contender roared with a thunderous howl. Pure light flashed from the muzzle as the high calibre bullet tore through its target like it wasn't even there. A returning blast of lead from the shotgun was quickly intercepted by Lynn's Persona.
[The fuck is that!? Oh shit! There's two mo- hrgk!] The curved pure silver blade of Joker's knife found its mark, thrown the moment the cognition opened its mouth. It sunk deep into the man's throat, cutting off his call for help.
"Boudica!" Shiho called. In a rush of radiant light and raging fire, the savage warrior woman burst forward already in a full sprint.
Her huge form stormed into the apartment Lynn had heard the seven other people. They had already armed themselves in response to the gunfire in the corridor. They were expecting a regular firefight. Not an eight foot tall raging force of fury and purging light. Boudica's spear sprang forward, its tip sinking deep into the closest Sixer's chest. A woman bearing an SMG. The firearm clattered to the floor and with a heave, Boudica threw the poor woman across the room.
The dead weight crashed against a wall and slumped to the ground with a sickening thud. A moment later, the six left opened fire.
Not that it had much effect. Shiki-Ouiji had already planted itself solidly in the way of the incoming fire. Each bullet bounced off the Persona's form like they were BBs fired from an Airsoft gun. A burst of light shot from Boudica's palm striking another of the Sixers. By this point, Lynn joined the fight and took careful aim.
Two shots took out a shotgunner. One to the leg, then another to the head.
Another - burlier - man firing what looked like an LMG of some description took a shot to the chest without so much as a wince of pain. His firing line switched from Shiki-Ouiji to Lynn, forcing her to dash across the room.
Nimbly, she collected a fallen shotgun - oddly, it looked like some Mossbergs from her own world - and jumped back, avoiding the hail of bullets. Another flash of radiant light. Brighter and more concentrated than the first. A flashbang, courtesy of Shiho's growing control over her power. It bought Lynn an opening to draw in close to the heavy gunner. The powerful, electrifying ka-thunk of the shotgun sent an intoxicating sensation through Lynn's body. Its payload tore the big guy's torso to shreds. Not even subdermal armour could withstand a ten gage blast at point blank range.
With him down, that still left two more.
The crack of Shiho's Contender rang in Lynn's ears. She caught sight of a skinny Sixer falling to the ground in a crumpled heap.
One more.
The remaining Sixer did the smart thing. She dropped the oversized pistol and her arms shot skyward. A devilish grin crawled over Lynn's jaw. "Trigger. Where is he?"
[Listen, I'm just here for the scratch… I do-]
"Where. Is. Trigger." This time, it was less a question and more a demand. Lynn pumped the shotgun in her hands and placed the barrel directly under the woman's jaw. The message was clear. The cognitive being began to sweat and shake with fear. Despite being a foot taller than Lynn and at least ten years older than her, Lynn forced the woman down onto her knees with a simple press of the gun barrel.
[Top f-floor! Apartment 403! Please don't ki-]
"Bang…" Lynn's grin had vanished, replaced with a cold, hard glare. It was the last thing the Sixer ever saw as the explosive payload completely eradicated her head. Black ichor and wispy vapour painted the ceiling with a horrific and visceral mural. Despite it not being real blood or gore, the sight alone was still disturbing enough to cause Lynn to wretch. "I think I'm going to be sick…"
"Hey… Joker, did you need to kill her?" Hesitantly, Shiho stepped forward and placed a quaking hand on Lynn's shoulder. "I know these aren't real people… but it still feels real. I don't like it."
"I hate it." Lynn replied, her shoulders slumped. "But yes… we couldn't let her run off and bring backup. It'd defeat the purpose of Naomi's distraction and just end up boxing us in." Was that really the reason? Or was it simply a convenient excuse? The truth was, some deep, dark part of her enjoyed pulling the trigger. "We should keep moving."
"Right…"
Shiho didn't believe her. Yet she didn't push the matter further. That alone punched Lynn in the gut way harder than anything Shiho could have said.
The thought was sealed deep down in her mind as she pushed on. Room 403 was their destination. The race she had proposed to Naomi was now the last thing on Lynn's mind. She wanted this diversion to be over as soon as possible. They were here to help V, not distract themselves with thrill chasing and murder racing.
All Lynn could hope for was the cognition of Rogue to keep her word. Otherwise this whole thing would have been a complete waste of time.
Thief Team: Beta
V stared deep into her reflection. Pulsing pain forced her to wince with each movement. Her nose had already begun to bruise heavily. Crooked and crusted with dry blood.
The sound of a small glass being placed on the bar caught her attention. A familiar gilded chrome hand slid it toward her. It prompted a small smile to tug at her lips. Something she soon regretted as another surge of pain throbbed over her face. "A little… anaesthesia," Pepe - ever the reliable - quipped with a hint of affectionate mocking. Thankful, V downed the shot of whiskey in one gulp.
With a sickening crack, she reset her nose. "Agh! Motherfucker…"
"Everything chill, hermana?" The bartender casually leant against the bar, allowing V to recompose herself.
The pain remained, but the resetting of the cartilage helped. A few days and the swelling would die down too. She grunted. A warm welcome back to Heywood. "Some asshole tried to mug me. Managed to get a sucker punch in. I… handled it."
"Local guy?" Pepe asked.
It earned him another, more amused grunt. "You really think a local would jump me, Pepe?" That retort was met with a brief pause, a half smile and a shrug.
"I don't know. You've been gone a while, V."
"That I have…" it was hard to believe it had been two whole years since she sat at the bar of El Coyote Cojo. The place hadn't changed in the slightest. A slight comfort to say the least. "Jack around?" She had to ask. Truthfully, she wasn't quite ready to reunite with the guy. Too much to say, too much to handle.
"Nah. Busy with some big job he's been runnin' his mouth about. Y'know how the mano is. Well… was. He's changed a lot since you left."
V had no reply. She and Jackie left things a bit too strained for her liking. V wanted out, Jackie wanted up. His mind still set on becoming a legend. For a while, that was V's dream too. The fantasy of striding into the Afterlife like she owned the place. It was certainly intoxicating, and yet, her experience in Atlanta was sobering indeed.
Pepe fell silent, as though he wanted to say something. His hard set, bearded jaw twitched in a frown. "Listen, V. I… got a problem. Serious, this time."
It had to be serious if he wasn't making light of it. "Spin it, what's your grief?"
He paused again, trying to find the right words. As awkward as he seemed, he looked somewhat hopeful. "It's… uh… Kirk. I owe 'im. Don't pay by tomorrow, said he'd bust my legs." Well that explained the awkwardness and hesitance. He was asking for a bailout. No one in Heywood asked for a bailout. "The man's in with the Cartels. He don't joke about shit like that."
"Fuckin' ay, Pepe. Kirk? Really? Everyone knows that asshole's a fuckin' shark."
"My brother jumped the joint. Deserved a hero's welcome," he sighed and slouched over the bar, "I know I fuck up, V." His sincerity earned a long sigh. V really couldn't leave the guy hanging. After all, he was a Heywood son and she was a Heywood daughter. In that regard, they were family.
"Alright, Pepe. I'll talk to him… but you'll fucking owe me!"
"Thanks, V. You're savin' my ass."
With a gesture of dismissal, V got up and headed off to play the knight in shining chrome. It was honestly good to be back on home turf. Loan sharks not-withstanding, the clientele of the El Coyote was and always would be V's crowd. On her journey to the upstairs area, she exchanged a few brief words with Mama Wells. A kiss to the cheek, a warm hug and a demand to stay for dinner.
The woman never once let V go hungry as a kid. Atlanta hadn't changed that habit.
Then it was onto more unsavoury company. Kirk Sawyer. The wannabe Heywood Fixer and known loan shark. His cocky demeanour and uncaring glances around always managed to piss V off. The asshole thought he owned the place. Together with his huscle - an abundantly rotund man named Big Joe - he was enjoying a smoke and a syn-cheese burger. Upon noticing V's approach, his lopsided grin set off an immediate irritation at the back of V's mind.
"Ah! Valorie! Or… V now, is it? Eh, fucking names, am I right? To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"We need to talk." Flat and to the point, V tried not to let Kirk get to her more than he already had. He chuckled and gestured to the seat opposite him.
"Spin it, choom. What can I do for ya?"
Reluctantly, she took the seat, only to be forced deeper into the booth by Big Joe. His huge body now acted as a blockade between V and a clean escape. She shot him a fiery glare and looked wholly unthreatened by the Nue pistol the man slammed on the laminate table.
"It's about Pepe," V began, doing her best to ignore the instant dismissive eye roll, "asked me to talk you up."
Kirk took a long drag from his cigarette. His eyes had lowered down to a screamsheet in his other hand as soon as he heard Pepe's name. "What? Too shy to give up the eddies hisself? Nah, tell 'im I don't bite. At least not yet."
"Cut him some slack, would you? He'll pay… just needs some time"
The man snarled. "Do I look like a charity worker to you?" He shot her a pointed stare. "You borrow eddies, you pay 'em back. With interest. That's common fuckin' knowledge. You suggesting I let a flakey cunt who can't keep a deal off the hook?"
V's temper had flared, now too. Pepe might have been an idiot for falling in with Kirk in the first place, but he was still family. The only thing stopping V from pulling iron then and there was her respect for Mama Wells. Instead, she bit her tongue and narrowed her eyes. "No, you let him off because it's me asking."
He huffed, shifting his weight. It was clear he wanted to put forward the idea he was fully in control. Like he was hot shit. "You know me. I'm a man of the biz. Which means I want to know what I can get out of it." This wasn't going anywhere. V let a quiet growl rumble her throat. Frustration aside, Kirk really wasn't as in control as he thought. He was trying to muscle in on Padre's turf and the only thing protecting him was Padre's complete disinterest in someone so small.
"Y'know… I sometimes forget you're not from around here."
"Excuse me?"
Big Joe shifted forward. A large hand making a pointed twitch in the direction of his pistol. It was almost funny how the two men thought it scared V. "You're all alone out here. You want to threaten a son of Heywood, we don't take that shit lyin' down. So, to avoid any unpleasantries, let's cut a deal."
Kirk narrowed his eyes and held eye contact for a good minute. V remained stoic all the while. She was dead serious. He might have Cartel contacts, but this wasn't Cartel turf.
And he knew it.
"Fine." He huffed and tossed the screamsheet across the table. It was an article about a Rayfield Aerondight. "I have somethin' in mind anyway." Of course the skeezy shark did. Maybe this was his plan all along. Then again, that thought was giving Kirk a little too much credit. "Rayfield. Exclusive shit. Real preem ride, only four in NC as of right now." The man raised a finger, "one, Rayfield's regional director," another finger, "two, Mayor Rhyne." The third finger wiggled indignantly, "three… a fucking rental service."
"Uh huh. Yeah. And the fourth?"
"The fourth, my impatient friend," beneath his thick framed glasses, his eyebrows wiggled in a suggestive manner, "will be in the hands of my client. Once you're done, anyway."
Quid pro quo. At least that was understandable.
"I klep the ride, you let Pepe off the hook?"
"I'll even throw in a cut for you, I'm such a nice guy."
This stank of rotted syn-sushi. More so when the sleazebag brought out the miracle piece of tech. A supposed skeleton key to every Rayfield in the city. She was just about done with Kirk, but she had already agreed to help Pepe out. Going back on that word would destroy her credibility. Not that there was much of it left anymore. Still, she reluctantly took the gizmo, threw a thinly veiled threat at Kirk and left the bar.
At least Pepe was thankful.
After that, the memory sped up as if playing on fast-forward. All its information, thoughts and emotions were still intact, yet were at an accelerated pace. Digital glitches occasionally twitched and flickered, reminding Morgana that this was just a playback of a memory and not him experiencing it himself. Just another quirk of this weird, futuristic technology.
He refocused himself and let the braindance take his senses once more.
A strange, bittersweet reunion with Padre took V by surprise. The old school, hard-assed mob boss may have been calculating and ruthless when he needed to be, but to V, he was always a big softy. It was calming to see him treat her just as he did before she left for Atlanta.
Heywood never changed. V and Padre had a pleasant conversation in the back of his ride while both of them were fully aware of the stiff wrapped up in the trunk.
Even if the NCPD stopped them, the badges wouldn't even bat an eye if they looked.
One thing that had changed, however, was the increase in Sixth Street presence. One even had the audacity to pull Padre's ride over and stick iron in V's face, flaunting it as if it were his dick. The idiot ranted about Vista del Ray, demanding and throwing his self-imposed weight around. V felt the anger bubble at her throat and soon, she couldn't keep herself from butting into the one-sided argument. A few choice words, a scathing dismissal and a stone cold stare was all that the man needed to fold in on himself and back off.
"It is nice to see you haven't forgotten your roots. Still have the gift. So many of the little shits these days let their spines go soft when staring down the barrel."
It was less about having some kind of gift and more a deep, ingrained hatred of the Sixth Street gang. Of course, Padre knew full well the real reason behind V's temper. Yet he set her at ease with a simple few words regardless.
Thankfully, the rest of the ride was wholly uneventful.
As such, within minutes, she found herself standing mere inches from the sleek, hyper expensive form of the Rayfield Aerondight. With a deep breath, she lifted up the miracle skeleton key. She fully expected the hunk of junk to be completely useless, however, a beeping caught her by surprise. The Rayfield's door slid open revealing its interior. All lit up like a christmas tree. Somehow, for some reason, Kirk's tech actually worked.
Even if it did work, there was still the matter of driving the damn thing to the drop off point. She slid into the driver's seat and ran her palms over the luxurious steering wheel. She had to admit, the thrill of being at the helm of such an exclusive ride was pretty intoxicating.
So much so, she completely missed the car door suddenly opening back up and a pistol barrel tapping against her temple.
"Sorry, hombre, just biz. Out'a the ride."
Wait.
She knew that voice.
Her eyes widened as they met the rugged, narrowed eyes of Jackie Wells. His own flashed with recognition, his iron vanishing quicker than a spooked rat.
"No fuckin' way…" he muttered, completely dumbfounded. "Valorie…?"
This definitely wasn't the way V wanted to reunite with Jackie, but they were here now. She put on her best sheepish smile and tried holding eye contact. "Hey Jack. Long time…"
"Two years. The fuck you doin' here, chica?"
She was about to try and give some sort of reply when flashing lights, loud sirens and stern yelling interrupted her. The badges had swarmed them within seconds. Before either of them even had a chance to make a break for it, they were on the ground, pinned by several officers. One in particular catching her eye. Stints. She never did like him all that much. Sure, he was a Heywood son, but he was never a true member of the Heywood family. Now that he had some modicum of power, he had developed a love for his own voice.
Taunting and sneering, the cop made vague threats about serving time. As if it would scare V or Jackie.
His little monologue was cut short by the arrival of the Rayfield's owner. An irritated, dismissive Corpo. From the uniforms his huscle were sporting, V had to assume he was Arasaka. As usual, the Corpo had absolutely no regard for anyone except himself. Seeing V's transgression as a minor inconvenience at best. Not that it stopped him from ordering Jackie and V to be killed. Like he was in charge of the NCPD. Stints scowled and after the Corpo left, he let himself sigh. A brief glance over to V and Jackie let V catch a glimpse of mercy in his eye.
He nodded and immediately, the brutes pinning them down began the routine beating. For the second time today, V's nose fell victim to the business end of blunt force trauma.
After all was said and done, the two were dumped in the back alley and left to lick their wounds. "Ugh! Motherfucker…" V grunted, resetting her twice broken nose. Sure, it wasn't the worst beating she had endured, but it was certainly the most annoyingly avoidable one.
"Honestly, for a sec, things looked iffy there." Jackie took a deep breath. The two had taken to sitting on a curb, watching as the cop cars left the scene. "Wasn't sure we'd worm outta that alive…" A trickle of blood streamed down from his crooked grin. Ever the free spirit, even death wasn't anything to be scared of. The man had a way of inspiring a certain easy going atmosphere even in the darkest of times.
"Nah. Stints wouldn't do us like that. The gonk hates suits just as much as we do." V chuckled. "Might be a badge now, but he's still Heywood born and bred."
A moment of silence fell between the two of them.
Notably, Jackie had yet to make eye contact. His gaze shifted around the filthy alley like he was avoiding her.
"Shit… sorry Val. If I hadn't come, you'd be cruisin' the streets in a sweet ride, now."
"It's… just V now." Valorie was dead and gone. At least legally she was. "And don't sweat it. My fault really." Jackie's confused frown earned him a chuckle and a hearty slap to the back. "Job was toxic from the start. I mean… a miracle skeleton key to every Rayfield in the city? If only somethin' that preem could ever exist. Fuckin' Kirk."
Jackie's confusion briefly flashed with disgust.
"You workin' with that sewer slug, now?"
"Fuck no. Pepe owed him. I stepped up to clear the debt." That at least set that particular record straight. "Skeezy gonk has Cartel contacts."
Jackie scoffed, shaking his head. "I know those Cartel types. I can guarantee none of 'em have ever even heard of Kirk. Gotta wonder 'bout ol' Pepe, though." Once more, the two let silence take over. It was a worryingly awkward silence this time. Like the issue was just hanging above them and they were trying their best to ignore it.
"Listen, Jack… -"
Before V had a chance to continue, Jackie clapped his hands together, sprang up from his perch and let a stretching groan free. "Maybe now, as god ordained." He turned to V, his jaw softening into a welcoming smile. "I'm fuckin' starved. Let's go grab a bite."
The sincerity caught her off guard.
She didn't know what to expect when she saw him again. Would he get angry? Would he shout and yell? Then she remembered what Jackie was really like.
The greatest, kindest friend someone could ever hope for.
She let a quiet chuckle tickle her lips. She was gonk to worry. "Sure, Jackie. Love to."
The next half year was a blur. Gigs came and went. Eddies flowed in and out of V's account. All with Jackie at her side. It was just like old times. Better, even. Granted, at first she was somewhat reluctant to step back into the merc life. Everything that happened in Atlanta was still fresh in her mind. The lost friends, the lost life, the taste of the major leagues souring in her mouth. Now it was different. V was content with sticking to her limits. Never biting off more than she could chew.
As time passed, she knew it was starting to bug Jackie.
He wanted more. He wanted to go beyond his lot in life. He wanted the major leagues and no amount of concerned nagging would sway him from that goal.
He would strive for bigger, higher profile gigs. All but forcing V to tag along. Padre was all too willing to provide. In the priest's own words; "past failings can bear the fruit of future glory." His tendency to wax poetic always earned a groan and an affectionate shake of the head, yet V loved him all the same.
And so, V stuck with Jackie. Never once falling behind. They pushed each other further and further beyond who they used to be.
So, the day immediately after a particularly chaotic rescue gig, it was unsurprising that Jackie had already lined something else up.
"Got us another sweet Jay Oh Bee. Get this; Dex De-fuckin'-Shawn's runnin' this show." His giddy grin was barely contained to his heavy set jaw. Only the slurping of noodles broke his expression.
"Wait… didn't he bail a while back? Some nasty biz gone fucked in Pacifica?"
Jackie shrugged. "Probably got in bad with the VDB's. You know how those pendejos can be. Not fuckin' important, V." His shoulders hunched, his excitement growing to new heights. It was honestly adorable to watch. "This is it! Our ticket to the major leagues! Silver platter 'n all!"
V didn't like it one bit. Someone with a murky track record like DeShawns was about as trustworthy as a Corpo gunning for a promotion.
But, no matter what V said, Jackie was still single minded and wanted to launch himself into legendary status. That had never changed. Honestly, V hoped it never would. Sure, the constant need to do more and be more was getting exhausting, but V was more confident and more competent than she had ever been before. All thanks to Jackie.
She didn't like it one bit, but she would be damned if she let him do this alone. She wouldn't let someone else die because of her shortcomings. Not anymore.
So, after getting her ride back from Jackie, the two began to walk across the street toward the well-used car.
Once more, the braindance was thrown into an accelerated pace. It detailed each part of the heist in quickened - yet crystal clear - fashion. The short ride-along with DeShawn. The meeting with Evelyn Parker and Judy Alvarez. The deal-turned-bad with Maelstrom. Finally, the heist itself. The infiltration of a corporate hotel to steal a prototype biochip. The Relic.
Chaos broke out and the hotel was turned into a warzone.
Jackie took a hit during the mad scramble. The Relic's case got damaged and they had to resort to slotting it in Jackie's personal link.
Then came the escape in an AI driven taxi. The brief encounter with Adam Smasher. Then the eventual home stretch. Though the braindance hadn't ended yet. Finally, its speeding pace slowed back to normal. The reality of the situation hit like a punch from Smasher.
V had her head in her hands, quietly sobbing to herself. Sat in the backseat of the slowing vehicle, she barely registered the cheery, polite voice of Delemain.
[Jackie Wells has passed. Where shall I deliver the remains?]
Finally, for the first time in several minutes, V looked over to the other passenger seat. Slumped, unmoving, was the corpse of Jackie, beaten, bruised and bloody. Yet his jaw had frozen into a stiff grin. His lifeless eyes still - somehow - filled with the spark of excitement and hunger. He was dead and gone. The heist had gone up in smoke. Old habits kicked in and V started to blame herself.
She knew this one wasn't on her. Yorinobu Arasaka threw one hell of a monkey wrench into an otherwise solid plan.
Murdering his own father in a fit of rage.
[Where shall I take his remains?] Delemain asked once again. His tone remained the same polite trill, yet V could swear she heard a twinge of impatience.
"H-he'd… want to be with his family…"
[The closest living relative is Guadalupe Alejandra Wells. The Excelsior Package includes the transportation and handling of passenger remains. I am sorry for your loss.] The AI driven taxi pulled into an alley just outside of the No-Tell Motel. [Mr. DeShawn is awaiting your arrival in room 204.]
V tried collecting herself. She could feel the Relic lightly hum in the base of her skull. Jackie's last act was slotting it in her personal link. Almost like passing a metaphorical torch. Her systems noted the chip was completely dormant, however. No processes or uploads to be concerned with. She gave one final look over to Jackie. "See you in the Major Leagues, Jack…" gently, she tapped a fist against his limp shoulder. She wanted him to talk back. To make some witty quip.
Of course, nothing ever came.
She stepped out of the taxi and into the pouring rain. Its heavy drops did little to wash off the grime and blood. The last hour of her life had found itself almost caked over her entire body. Bullets, machine oil, blood, trash, rain and liquor.
Moments later, she looked at the door of room 204. DeShawn was just on the other side. No doubt enraged and scheming to come out of this shit show alive. If those schemes extended to V, she wasn't quite sure how to respond. She knocked twice. No response. She moved in to knock once more. The door slid open before she had the chance. DeShawn's huscle stormed out, held her back and looked down the hallway.
Whatever he was looking for, he didn't find. That seemed to satisfy him and the brute let V pass. At least, he would have. The Braindance fell back into a mess of static and glitchy nonsense.
The playback had now come to an end.
Both Morgana and Yusuke sat in silence as their senses refocused. The Braindance Parlor returned to view, however, neither wanted to break the silence. V had gone through so much in just a few years. Her life - as far as Morgana could tell - was one tragedy after another. And she had survived every single one. That came with guilt. Lots of it.
One thing did nag at the cat's mind, however. Why did the Braindance get so glitchy toward the end? It was like fragments of it were completely missing.
As far as Morgana could tell, these Braindance things were basically replayable memories. If that were the case, maybe those fragments weren't missing at all. Perhaps V subconsciously repressed certain pieces of the memory. Voluntarily or not, it still didn't change the fact that V had led one hell of a life.
And it was coming to a swift end if the thieves didn't do something.
"Fox, I think I know what the code to that safe is."
Thief Team: Gamma
"That's what I'm effin' talkin' about!" Electricity exploded across the geometrical surfaces of data structures. "Take some of that!" Chittering and roaring pierced cyberspace, baleful and agonised. "Serves up… swing batter!" Crashing sounds resembling smashing glass sent thunderous ripples across open space.
When Ann told Ryuji to really cut loose, the boy certainly didn't disappoint. He had thrown himself headfirst into an all out conflict with a horde of glitchy, monstrous bugs.
Of course, he wasn't alone in his assault.
Ann supported him as best she could from her vantage. She threw blasts of fire down like fiery rain. She supplied emergency healing energy when Ryuji was hit. She even managed to take a few Shadows down in hand to hand conflict. Or rather, foot to creepy-insectoid-mask conflict. Even still, no matter how many the duo dispatched, they kept on coming. It had turned into a battle of attrition with no end in sight. Despite that, and to Ryuji's credit, he also showed no sign of slowing down.
His fist struck hard across a lunging Shadow's mask. Thunder boomed and a sparking explosion sent the thing crashing into a data wall. Another Shadow clambered over its comrade, bearing down on Ryuji with razor sharp mandibles.
He shot backwards in a flash of movement, avoiding the crushing blow. Blinding speed turned the boy into a streaking blur of white and yellow.
With so much speed packed behind his next attack, the resulting impact completely blasted the creature apart into twinkling, glass-like shards. He then followed through and fired a powerful spike of lightning at another Shadow. The energy arced from one Shadow to another, creating a circuit of zapping pain. For a moment, Ann had gotten so caught up in Ryuji's display, she barely had time to avoid a jet of frozen air. Even if Ryuji was keeping the attention of the bulk of Shadows, a few were more interested in getting at Ann. Leaning backwards, her back arched to avoid the jet. She pushed herself down through the open space and twisted to return fire. A stream of searing heat swathed across the approaching Shadow's long body. It screeched and reared back. Fragments of ice and rime dripped from below its mask. Its mandibles twitched violently as it eyed Ann. Somehow, she found herself in a stand-off with the creature.
It was just acting as a distraction. A thick, heavy object smashed against Ann's ribs, completely knocking the air out of her lungs.
She didn't think she still had lungs, what with her digital form and all.
The offending object was the tail end of another Shadow. It had used Ann's distraction to sneak up on her and swing its body like a giant whip. It sent her sailing through cyberspace in an uncontrolled spin.
A brief struggle to regain her balance forced her to move in odd ways. She growled and grunted at the sharp pain in her side. Had that attack broken something?
She gingerly placed a hand over the aching part of her torso and channelled Carmen's healing energy through the injury. The pain dulled to a more manageable droning buzz. She'd need to tend to it properly later, but for now, the adrenaline kept the worst at bay. "That hurt, you disgusting bug! Ugh! I hope Nix is doing his job…"
"Captain Kidd!" Ryuji's voice bellowed over the cacophony of other sounds. His call was answered by rattling laughter.
The huge form of Captain Kidd shot into Ann's view and with a gesture, a heavy looking canon formed around his right arm. [Y' be needin' a hand, little miss! Yarharhar!] The skeletal pirate cackled and fired electrically charged iron balls at the advancing Shadows. The cover gave Ann enough time to regain her composure. Ryuji was starting to exert himself way too much. He was single handedly taking on an entire army, and now he had summoned Kidd to fight on a second front.
She wasn't about to be stood up by him. She'd never hear the end of his boasting.
"Carmen!"
Captain Kidd's rattling chorus of laughter was joined by the haughty, condescending chuckle of Carmen. The red hue of the data fortress looked to grow a few shades of intensity as the Persona called a storm of raining meteors down on the army below. Each strike shook the space like several earthquakes hitting at once. A strange feeling given there wasn't a ground to shake.
Shrieks erupted and the horde was thrown into a frenzied, writhing mass of desperate wriggling.
Carmen kept up the assault, producing stream after stream of inferno. When it came to all out offence, Ann found a "scorched earth" policy always seemed to work. And now that the apparent discovery these Shadows had an aversion to fire, it spurred her on even more.
Granted, the constant and sustained use of Carmen like this was already taking its toll. Ann's head pounded and her body felt heavy with growing fatigue.
Before long, both thieves would be overwhelmed from sheer numbers.
As if to emphasise that thought, Ryuji's pained howl cut over the sounds of combat. A mandible had found its mark, stabbing the boy's digital form in the shoulder. Seconds later, another group of smaller Shadows were beginning to swarm in on Ryuji. If she didn't do something quick, Ann would be watching the death of her childhood friend.
She dug deep. There had to be something she could do to give them some breathing room. Her heart pounded and with a desperate glance, she locked eyes with Carmen. The Persona grinned and something deep inside Ann pulsed with energy. [My dear girl, let your passion burn free for once. Cease with your frivolous notion of restraint and call upon your truest self!] Carmen's voice pierced through her mind. No, it wasn't Carmen. It was something else. Something more.
Her chest tightened.
Her heartbeat quickened.
"Hecate!" She called out to the depths of her soul. A spark fluttered across her mind's eye. It pulsed and roared to life in a raging inferno. A demonic laughter answered her call. Wicked, violent and insatiable. Yet protective and almost overwhelmingly passionate.
Carmen's dress enwreathed itself into flames, engulfing her body. The red inferno flashed with a dark energy as two gnarled horns protruded out from the firestorm evoking the look of two charred boughs of a scorned tree. An eye opened on each horn and the faint sound of chains danced across the air. The flame dispersed and revealed the angular, dominating form of a new entity. Black leather and steel had replaced red satin.
The growling heads of two monstrous hound-like creatures reared up. Held barely in check by the chains gripped in black gloved hands. Their razor-like, blood red teeth leaked with violent intent, ready to rip and tear until it was done.
Standing above the horde, the entity glared down with white hot intensity. A lick of flame crossed her lips.
Hecate, goddess of Witchcraft.
Any semblance of fatigue Ann had felt had vanished. Her soul had been lit anew with burning ferocity and a need to protect Ryuji.
"Burn them to ash, Hecate!" She ordered with a dramatic gesture.
The new Persona hummed a sinister tune. [With pleasure, my darling.]
Author's Notes:
I know this chapter took quite a while. I'm not dead! Life issues. It's a whole thing. Not important! Thank you for bearing with me. I should maybe talk about the last part of this chapter. Ann's summoning of Hecate. Unlike the games, I'm not treating this "second awakening" as a permanent unlock of a new Persona. Rather, it'll be like a trump card when things get desperate. You know, Shonen bullshit power ups. Next chapter should wrap up this part of V's Palace. Those chains need a yanking!