Edge of Cryses - (Cyberpunk x Crysis)

"They called me Alcatraz. Remember me."

That's how James 'Alcatraz' Rodriguez died. A sentence, one full of irony, and yet one that gave up on life itself as he knew he wasn't meant to do this.

He wasn't a hero, he wasn't a super-soldier, he was just... a trooper. One that should have died way earlier than he did. And in a more fitting death compared to the one he got. His body stolen by the very suit that had given him a 'second chance'.

He couldn't blame 'Prophet' or whatever thing gave him that choice. He could have lived, he could have fought through the pain, but the truth was a bitter one he had learned as he got accustomed to the Nanosuit 2.0: Prophet died because he was human, Alcatraz had to also die because he was human.

The suit could not work at full capacity with just a human within it. It couldn't handle the limitations a human had in dealing with the high output. Hours, if not days had gone with him not needing to drink or eat- he didn't take a shit at all and yet his body was fine.

Or was it?

Alcatraz had seen the data. He had seen what the Ceph-made technology was meant to do to him- his body had taken a rough beating, but the suit kept him alive. He was nothing more than a meat puppet and... he didn't want that life.

His last moments had helped him spare those that were left in his life: his demented mother saw him a demon, but she lived- his sister was happy as her guardian angel saved her when she needed.

Alcatraz had accepted death when it came to him, but...

Death decided to reject him altogether.

Maybe it was the sinful nature of his survival. Born in a Christian household, he knew damn well that the last weeks had been some of the most absurd and inhuman he had been. He had survived things he shouldn't have, and he had to give up his body to a CPU that was mimicking its former user.

Laurence Barnes died, but 'Prophet' lived. And Alcatraz...

He didn't know.

He felt nothing. He felt rigid- he felt stuck. And then... Here is the light.

The darkness that claimed him should have been permanent, yet someone had just moved some cloth and brought light into where he was. The suit was inactive for a moment, a few lights blinking in his screen as his sight blurred and failed to initially see what was going on.

Instead, he noticed the one that moved the cloth as the red-haired woman with pretty brown eyes. She tilted her head, studying him for a moment before pulling away and... gasping. Noises, panicked words, and Alcatraz felt that there was an altercation going on.

Slowly, carefully- the man moved his body. His screen blinked and he finally focused on the single red line in it.

Recovery at: 97%
Recovery at: 98%
Recovery at: 99%
Recovery at: 100%

Full Recovery confirmed. Back in Action, Alcatraz.

The voice... it wasn't Prophet. The suit- it was... it was no longer 'possessed' by that 'ghost'. And he could indeed move.

The system was the same as usual, and soon Alcatraz got out of the... dumpster. It took him a single moment to identify the situation. The woman from before, the redhead, was on the ground. Her arm was bleeding as she tried to reason with the crazy guy that was troubling her. Three actually, two of those had kept behind and were quick to spot Alcatraz.

"Boss, there's a chromed gonk behind ya!"

The lingo confused the nanosuited-soldier, but he was more concerned in regard to the wounded civilian. The three thugs moved up close to him, sneering and leering.

"Chooms, that's enough chrome to get us some fat eddies for life. Do you think it's 'saka or Militech?"

"I bet it's one of those older corpos' shit, boss."

The fuck is wrong with these three.

Before he could actually 'ask' what was up with their slangs, he was given reason to be more 'punchy' as the lead of the three stooges used his crowbar to strike him.

Alcatraz moved instinctively, his training as a Marine combined with the impressive reaction time of the suit giving him the edge in redirecting the weapon to one of the closer goons.

Shock and panic emerged as the sharp edge stabbed into the unlucky sob, but Alcatraz wasn't done yet- as much as he had worked as a soldier, the man had seen enough shit to know this scum would trive in jail.

There was no hesitation in picking the heads of both the untouched bastards and slam those together. Not enough to kill, but enough to put them out of commission. There was silence, then Alcatraz turned to the woman.

Her eyes were wide open and she clearly appeared scared of what occurred. He couldn't blame her, but Alcatraz needed answers to his questions- where was he and... what happened to Prophet? What about the Ceph?

He was about to use the built-in microphone to speak with the woman, but then he remembered that his vocal cords and his lungs had recovered from the damage he sustained weeks ago and... he spoke.

"Are you alright?"

The question tore the woman out of her silent panic, and her eyes narrowed at him with dry irritation.

"I-I am fucking bleeding," the redhead remarked, causing Alcatraz to frown in return.

"I mean 'beyond bleeding'."

The woman rolled her eyes and yet kept being tense around him.

"I am... fine. What about it? Pity? An easy prey?"

What?

"Ma'am, I am just-"

"Look, spare the formalities, what do you want?"

...The hell is wrong with this woman? He just saved her from getting killed and she was snapping at him like that?

"I was just trying to be helpful here. I need some answers to a couple of questions."

"...Like what? What year is it?"

Alcatraz opened his mouth to snap back at the cheeky lady but-

[Warning! System's date is wrong... correction applied.]

The man frowned as '2023' morphed into...

2076.

That's not possible. 53 years? No, this- this didn't make any sense and-

"So, what about those questions?" The woman asked with a serious tone. "Are you just going to stand like that or are you going to help me, you dumbass?!"

What the hell is going on and... what's wrong with this woman?!

Gloria Martinez was not having a blast.

It should have been another looting night, but he had been unable to pick much from the last sortie of dead cyber psychos. It was a shame that some of that chrome had been kept away when it could have been used to pay the bills. It didn't help that the choice of looking into a 'crime scene' had been a stupid move from the get-go.

Of course some of the bastards that had caused the firefight would have turned up to check the place for lingering cops. It was a shame for Gloria as she had been there, but then it became a shame for the poor bastards when the strange fellow that took care of not only bringing her home but also helped patching her wound broke them up.

Had she been a bit too harsh on the choom? Maybe. He didn't look like a crazy nut, but he sure gave her the same vibes she had when handling the corpses of cyber psychos. She hardly had any experience with living ones, but this... this didn't feel crazy. No, it felt just... 'displaced'.

An aimless person or... some guy that just got too drunk and forgot where he fell asleep. That last bit sounded reasonable if she was to ignore the fucking high-tech suit he was wearing.

Gloria was not sure who this guy was attached to. Arasaka? Doubtful- they would never lose one of their biggest pieces like that. No, Gloria knew this guy was... odd. And weird. And kind of muscular.

Luckily for her, his son was still asleep and she didn't have to explain why she had let some unknown man that introduced himself as 'Alcatraz' into her home. Well, not without having to also explain why she was outside today when she should be sleeping to get ready for work tomorrow. And why she was looking into a crime scene for some easy chrome to sell to Maine.

As she felt her boredom claim her as the man had been 'missing' in her bathroom for almost a hour now, Gloria decided to check on him. Curiosity, unease, and a genuine case of distrust motivated her to do so.

And right as she turned the corner, she was shown quite a sight. The helmet had come off, sitting at the edge of the sink while its owner was... touching his chin. He had a bit of a beard going on- quite unkept and yet... and yet wrong. His face looked so sunk in as if he had gone through several wrestling matches at once and... and it didn't feel right.

Gloria knew her stuff about medical issues, and the man's current interaction over his reflection felt a bit jarring. And concerning. Not to the point of worrying over him going loco, but about him... hurting himself. Maybe she could do something for him.

"You look like you need a shave."

Her voice ripped into his silent self-study, and the redhead cursed herself inwardly for being hit by those unexpected green eyes. So intense, so piercing and yet so depleted. It was a surprise to find a functional living being that appeared moments away from dying. And in a super-secret suit at that.

"I do," He mumbled quietly. "I... I am sorry for keeping around."

"Don't," She curbed his apologetic crap on the spot. "You look a step to the grave."

"I was," He mumbled confidently, which really unnerved Gloria. "But... something pulled me out of trouble."

"Hm? Look like a story," She remarked, and then the redhead had a terrible but somewhat 'fair' idea. "How about we go in the living room and you tell me some of that?"

She was not a therapist, but if she had to chose between listening to 'Alcatraz' and his crazy tale, and having to deal with a deranged guy in her bathroom, she picked the former option.

"It's a bit... unusual."

"Heard crazy, you can't be 'crazier'."

"Trust me, I can," He remarked with a nod. "Plus, we would need a lot of booze to digest that."

"Hm? And I shouldn't see it as an attempt to do things with me?"

"...You really suck at defusing situations, aren't you?" The counter had her huff.

"Fine, no stories," Gloria admitted defeat. "But we could at least talk about arrangements."

"I will leave tomorrow morning-"

"Not in that condition. Not with that face."

Her interjection surprised Alcatraz and the man merely frowned at her. "What?"

"Look, you saved me and all but... I am not kicking you out without knowing what's up. I have medical experience and, when I look at you, I see like a big bomb waiting to blow up. So, either you find a way to miraculously patch yourself up, or you are going to bear with the fact I am not letting you wander the streets of Night City with that mess."

...

The man offered a 'sad' smile. "Fine."

She grinned, glad that she got a win on this confusing man but... Then Gloria remembered that she had to tell her son that someone he didn't know would be staying at the flat for a while.

And that wasn't going to be fun at all.

AN

Alcatraz in Cyberpunk! This idea was pondered in the Discord, and I have a few things to bring up:
1) The Nanosuit 2.0 indeed lacks 'Prophet', but its AI is actively 'upgrading' and will slowly improve the suit to be stronger, 'smarter' and tougher to destroy - expect it to gain new abilities the more time it is 'sponging' into Cyberpunk's technology and information;
2) Alcatraz is, as I looked into the discrepancies between game and books in regard to his age, older by 10 years;
3) I may or may not have a tiny but non-certain plan for a two-women harem for Alcatraz. But I am very open with DavidxLucyxRebecca so, that's a certain thing.