The cold metal brushed against the temple of a rugged man seated in a chair. His hair, short and somewhat unkempt, boasted a fade that lent him a sharp edge. Draped in a brown leather jacket, it featured a striking red samurai logo on the back, paired with black jeans and deep, brown, simplistic boots. A makeshift bullet necklace dangled around his neck, his fingers perpetually toying with it, even as he held the handgun, firmly pointed at his temple. Eyes closed. All it would take to end it was to pull the trigger, yet the vast expanse of Night City stretched out before him. Skyline was a tapestry of countless skyscrapers, punctuated by a ship gliding past. Advertisements claimed every available surface, filling the view with their vibrant neon assault. The air was saturated with the pervasive scent of thick oil, which, although initially repulsive when the young man first arrived in the city, now served as his sole source of nostalgic comfort.
"V, you set on this? Look, I know you're not the type to ring up your chooms for a goodbye, but this, this is ice cold, even for me—and that's saying a lot," the voice, unmistakably Johnny Silverhand's, called out to him. He perched on the roof's opposite edge, idly twirling a cigarette between his fingers, lost in thought. After a moment of contemplation, he flicked it into the void below. His form flickered and distorted, accompanied by static that buzzed in V's ears.
"Johnny… There is 'Nothing left to say– I stabbed Panam in the back, pushed Misty and Vicky away, and if that was not fucking enough, I managed to get Mox along with clouds flatlined. Failed to realize what kind of eddies were in play. I doubt Judy wants to see or hear my sorry ass now," V squeezed the grip of his gun harder. "I'm tired."
"V, Night City's a cesspool, a bottomless pit of crap that doesn't stop stinking till everything's gone. But that girl, she was a treasure in this dump. Hell, even I warmed up to her after the whole Mox debacle," Johnn's unmistakable tone carried a mix of gruffness and sincerity. "I'll bet my last eurodoll that she's not the type to hold grudges"
"You're just a fucking chip in my head, how would you even—" V couldn't help but laugh, caught up in the man's antics.
"Yeah, but I'd damn well do it if I could," the man retorted.
V found himself nodding to that sentiment. Judy Alvarez was indeed an exceptional choom, a woman almost broken by the harsh, relentless reality of Night City. The city had a way of crushing those naive enough to dream of making a mark, of becoming legends, preaching a gospel of 'no happy endings'. Yet, the echoes of Dexter Deshawn's question lingered in V's mind: 'Blaze of glory or a nobody?'. Months ago, without a doubt, he would have chosen the former. But now, his certainty had faded.
If he holo'd Judy now, would she respond—would she offer forgiveness? V felt the sharp pricks, like needles, invading his thoughts as he tightened his grip on the handle once more, his finger teasing the trigger, eyes shut tight.
"V."
His breath quickened, and a solitary bead of sweat traced across his face as he trembled in his seat. Of course, Judy wouldn't respond to his calls, he convinced himself. Who was he fooling? There wasn't anyone left worth a damn to urge him to press on. He was tired. Frustrated – and if, by some miracle, he managed to strike Arasaka where it hurts and remove the relic from his head, what awaits him beyond that? An empty seat at the Afterlife's bar, perhaps. A life of mercenary jobs until he meets his end in a ditch, only to be commemorated by a drink named after him?
"V, you still with me?"
Indeed, nothing awaited him. A mercenary, a selfish prick, a gonk, who jumped in bed with the power players of Night City, hoping for a shot at the big time. Cross them, and they'd erase you. Stay loyal to them, and they will still flatline you without a second thought. That was all V ever was or could be. The harsh lesson learned after losing Jackie and everyone else was clear: the ruthless, treacherous world that preys on anyone seeking a better existence, ready to swallow the next hopeful choom whole.
"V, what's this? Am I chattin' with a goddamn corpo barrier here or what? Snap the hell out of it." Johnny Silverhand's voice cut through, laden with intensity. V directed his gaze at the man, who had removed his sunglasses, his deep brown eyes now visible. For a moment, he relaxed his grip on the handgun.
"Wha-?"
"You zoned out for a hot sec, V. Even had me concerned. You with me?"
"Yeah, yeah… it's just—maybe I should holo Judy after all."
"The gonk's finally piecing things together, huh?"
"Johnny, you're a choom, but do me a favor and kindly fuck off"
Silverhand flashed a grin, sliding his sunglasses into place before shifting his gaze to the cityscape. V placed the handgun on the table, next to the pills colored red and blue, before pulling a holo-device from his pocket. Fear and disgust swirled among the tumult of emotions flooding the young man as he scrolled through his contacts. His heart raced when he finally landed on the name that caught his attention: "Judy Alvarez."
V paused, fiddling with his device, his gaze shifting sideways then back to the screen where the letters seemed to bore into his eyes. He swallowed hard before finally pressing the call button. The rhythmic beeping of the line filled the air, each ring, each breath, weighing more heavily on him until he instinctively moved to tap the cancel button—only to find the call connected just before he could, greeted by a moment of silent static.
"Hey, Ju."
"Hey, V. What's cracking?" a feminine voice called with a hushed tone.
"Remember when you shared what you felt in me after—" V's voice faltered briefly. "You were right about everythin' and… I'm sorry."
"V, you're freaking me out. What's happening?"
"The relic, it's tearing me apart, and time's running out, so I figured I'd—"
"Do what?" Judy's voice sharpened with urgency. V remained silent for a beat.
"Please, don't say you were about to— Are you serious right now?"
"I got nothing left in me, Ju. What other choice do I have?"
"I— Seriously, anything but checking out early on your own, V. Fuck!" Judy's voice crackled, rough with the strain of a suppressed sob. V felt a knot of confusion form.
"Ju, are you—"
"Where are you?" Judy interrupted.
They were enveloped in a brief silence as V mulled over his choices.
"At my place," he lied.
"I'm on my way, just—don't do anything stupid, okay?" Judy's voice, though still charged, had found a semblance of calm.
"Okay."
The call ended, leaving V bewildered, phone in hand. Judy's manner of speaking to him didn't add up. Why wasn't she furious with him? More perplexingly, why was Judy Alvarez crying over a useless gonk like him? His breath caught, and he clenched his fists tightly. Everything was turned upside down. This is not how V had meant to go about it.
"V, why'd you feed her that line?" Johnny pressed.
"I- I just don't fucking know, okay? Maybe it's because seeing her would make me—"
"Want to stay alive? Turn those rotten strawberries you've been shitting out—after using people up, breaking them, and chucking their sorry asses aside—into something worthwhile?" Johnny probed with cynicism.
Something snapped in V as he let the words ruminate within him. Johnny was right, he had almost grasped something when Judy had offered to find him, no questions asked. The idea of receiving unconditional care, especially being Night City's most notorious gonk, struck V as odd. He shifted slightly in his seat, absently fiddling with a necklace around his neck.
"I'm scared," he admitted. "Scared that, after all I've been through, there's someone out there who'd care if I flatlined today." Tightness gripped his chest as he traced the coarse surface of the bullet, palms beginning to sweat. Weighed down by this profound contemplation, he remained silent before sharply turning his gaze to the man with the metallic arm. "We take on Arasaka, just me and you, Solo. Nobody's laying down their life for me, and if things go south, then so be it."
"Alright, now you're talkin'. Let's get moving. Arm yourself to the teeth—hell, chrome your cock if you have to. Do whatever it takes to neutralize every fucking corpo standing between us and our goal." Johnny called and stood up, his form flickering in a haze of bits and bytes, as V stumbled onto his feet.
"Johnny, whatever happens, it's been one hell of a ride, choom."
V stood at the entrance of Arasaka Tower, wielding a Malorian Arms 3516 in one hand and Jackie's Tsunami Nue in the other. Clad in a brown punk jacket with a samurai logo on the back and black jeans, he mumbled under his breath, allowing the cold rain and the scent of metal to fill his senses. In a brief moment, he opened his eyes wide and stepped through the entrance. The lobby was decorated with beautiful, sleek metal surfaces. Two guards stationed near the lobby table, their skin crafted from non-rusting chrome, advanced toward him with robotic precision. One of them extended a palm, directing it towards V.
"Cease all hostility—" His plea was abruptly silenced as a bullet tore through his head, transforming it into a grotesque fusion of machinery and flesh that crumpled to the floor. V operated with lethal precision, holstering his gun with one fluid motion. He pirouetted, a dance of death, as bullets sang across the lobby floor. Screams. Explosions. The building was on high alert, its incessant alarm buzzing a relentless echo in V's ears. He felt the Malorian's recoil, a fierce push against his arm, as he prepared for the next move.
"V, swipe an access key from one of those goons and make a beeline for the elevator," Johnny's voice rasped in his ear. V stashed his Nue and whipped out a grenade. Biting the pin with his teeth, he lobbed the explosive towards the stairs before crouching by a guard's body. After a swift pat-down, he snagged a keycard and bolted towards the elevators. Just a few steps from the panel, a bullet whizzed by, nicking his cheek.
"Damn, they're rolling out the heavy artillery, Johnny!" V groaned in pain, pounding the elevator panel with the key in his grip. He trained his gun on the advancing wave of armed Arasaka soldiers, landing several precise shots squarely in their heads.
"Better tip your hat to Ripperdoc for those optic implant upgrades, if we skate out of this mess," Johnny quipped with a whistle. A ring of elevator arrival echoed and the mercenary quickly slipped in punching the floor that read 'Netrunner Operations Central'
"Got it. But seriously, no foreplay with these clowns, huh?" V leaned back against the elevator wall.
"V, was that an attempt at humor, or have I turned into a homeless gonk?" Johnny asked, incredulous.
"Oh fuck off," V chuckled. He took a moment to prepare for the inevitable carnage that lay ahead. He wouldn't be shocked to find at least a dozen squads of Arasaka's security forces lying in wait. Scratch that—more likely, he'd face off against heavily equipped military units, armed to the teeth with smart-assisted heavy machine guns or rifles. Any slip-up and a guided bullet would make a beeline for his head, regardless of cover or implants.
The gravity of his situation began to sink in as the elevator descended. Absently, his fingers found their way to his neck, fiddling with the bullet necklace hanging there. He couldn't help but wonder, what Jackie would think seeing him now. Dashing through Arasaka Tower for the second time, guns blazing, standing his ground against some of the toughest, most dangerous motherfuckers Night City had ever known.
As they neared their destination, V started humming a melody that caught the rockstar's ear. "A thing of beauty I know... will never fade away," he sang softly. Johnny, lost in thought, silently leaned his head against the elevator wall.
"Now you've got me feeling all nostalgic. Wasn't it enough to buddy up with the Silverhand? Now you've got to turn me sentimental too?" Johnny's words carried a mix of jest and warmth, his lips twisting into what could pass for a smile.
The elevator rang again, its door sliding open with an empty hallway. "I would never," V slid a new magazine into Malaria and waltzed forward.
The metro's engine hummed, its vibrations echoing beneath Judy's seat as she gazed out the window at the Watson district. Neon lights illuminated the night, casting their glow on stumbling drunkards. It was Night City in all its chaotic splendor—where the disparity between the rich and the poor was stark and unforgiving. Judy had long known she should have seized the first chance to escape this city, but something held her back, an unfinished chapter named Vincent Marlowe. A man who had unexpectedly entered her life, already one foot in the grave.
There Judy was, at 3 in the morning, pursuing that very same man with the fervor of someone losing herself to obsession. She loathed admitting it, but V had ensnared her completely, his influence unyielding. To anyone observing, she was a fool for allowing him to worm his way into her life so deeply. Ask anyone, and their advice would be unequivocal: Run. Still, she couldn't resist; her heartbeat accelerated with anticipation as she awaited her stop. Each second felt more excruciating than the one before. The nagging thought tormented her: what if that stubborn gonk acted recklessly while she was stuck, losing precious moments as the train trudged toward its destination?
"Next stop, Little China," echoed the system's announcement. Judy stood up, muttering "Finally," as she moved towards the doors. Moments later, the vehicle came to a halt, its doors sliding open. Stepping out, she was greeted by the pungent scents of garbage and alcohol. The air was pierced by the sounds of rival gang members exchanging gunfire in a nearby alley. The streets were filled with littered trash and used needles. Judy hastened her pace down the street, making quick progress. The towering megabuilding 10H loomed just a short distance from her current stop. Shortly, she'd come upon a vast staircase surrounded by an eclectic mix of stalls. From noodle vendors to obscure cyberware sellers, the area was a bustling marketplace.
Under different circumstances, she would have lingered, exploring the tech offerings on display. Occasionally, one could uncover valuable deals on rare components that were nearly impossible to find elsewhere. But not today. Navigating quickly through the stalls, Judy ascended the staircase and caught a rapid elevator ride to the tower's 7th floor. There, she found herself before a door, beside which a holographic display prominently featured a distinct number: '0716 - Marlowe'.
"V, you there?" Judy rapped on the door, her voice a blend of anticipation and impatience. Silence greeted her.
Knocking again, a hint of annoyance tinged with concern crept into her voice. "V, if this is you pulling a fast one on me..." She paused, an uneasy sensation twisting in her stomach. Reluctantly, Judy knew she had no other options. Retrieving a keycard from her pocket, she inserted it into the Keyport. As the panel flashed green, the door quietly slid open. She stepped inside, immediately enveloped by the hum of the holo TV and the palpable emptiness of the space. Atop the small nightstand by the open window, there rested an exquisitely crafted cigarette case, adorned with a heart emblem fashioned from gold—an elegant touch. The case appeared almost untouched as if it had been left there and forgotten.
Judy's heart sank into chaos as the truth dawned on her. Fumbling to yank out her holo-device, she frantically scrolled through her contacts, hands trembling uncontrollably. "Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!" she cursed under her breath, feeling the edges of panic creeping in. The phone echoed unanswered for a long three minutes.
As the persistent ringtone played in the background, the droning sound of an advertisement was abruptly replaced by the focused presence of a news anchor. "We interrupt our scheduled programming with urgent news from the heart of Night City. A lone assailant breached Arasaka Tower's defenses, initiating a lethal rampage that has left dozens dead. This cold-blooded assault, believed by leading analysts to be a case of cyberpsychosis, has shocked the city. We now go to security footage of the assailant in action." The anchor's voice faded to a distant hum as Judy's grip on her holo device loosened, the device clattering to the floor. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, displaying V moving with a determined look, swiftly navigating the lobby with two guns in hand, blood and dead bodies trailing behind.