Unsurprisingly, the car smelt like cigarettes, booze, and a hint of mold. The smell was so bad that I could taste the air around me- it was so bad that I doubted that words could even properly explain it. I had tried to roll the window down to get some fresh air, but that small ray of salvation was quickly shot down. The window was broken, no matter how hard I pressed the button next to me, the glass pane refused to budge. Obviously, I couldn't open the door whilst the car was moving, it wouldn't be polite. And there was the fact that the doors automatically locked as soon as the car began its journey to Night City.

I was trapped within this shit mobile until I reached my location, and what was worse, it seemed that the only guy I had for company wasn't much of a conversationalist. When Ethan had said he had wanted 'no unneeded questions', I had learned over the past half hour that that meantnoquestions- none whatsoever. Any conversation I had managed to get somewhat started was swiftly cut down, never given a chance to find its footing. Which was annoying, and a little daunting.

All I really knew about my current location was that I was trapped in an alternative version of America,specificallyI was within the borders of California. And I only knew that because of the sign that pointed to the city where most of the games I played took place. I didn't know the current year- and that scarred the shit out of me, for reasons I would rather not ponder on.

All I had to look forward to was that I was actually making progress, no matter how small it was. I was quickly making my way to Night City, petrol stations and small, quiet country towns left in the wake of Ethan's station wagon. Although I was making progress, I didn't really know what I was aiming for. I didn't know what I wanted.

What do I want?

That was the big question that was being thrown around my head. What I wanted was to take an extradimensional bus home, eat some of my mother's leftovers, give her a hug, and go to fucking bed.

I know that's not going to happen though- I'm a fish out of water, without an ocean in sight.

I exhaled, trying to keep myself level-headed, trying to act calm. It wasn't really working all that well, but my palms were slick with sweat and my mouth was as dry as the barren fields we continued to drive by.

"What did I deserve to be in this situation."

Ethan grunted in response, his eyes focused on the road- my words most likely entering through one ear and leaving the other. The middle-aged man probably didn't even bother to comprehend my words. That was a blessing since I didn't really want to be asked how I was- because the façade of calm I had would break, and I would most likely spill my guts out.

Which wouldn't be the optimal outcome, best case scenario I end up on the side of the road… but knowing this world, I bullet to the skull would be just as likely.

3 + 7 + 6 = 16

I leaned back into the fake leather seat and breathed through my nose, trying to calm my anxious heart and the fear flowed through my veins. It was by pure chance that I spied a pair of bright headlights appear from a rather small side road. I swore that I heard the rattle of dice echo across my ears, but it was so faint that it could only be a figment of my imagination.

If I had to guess, it would be some sort of offroad SUV, not unlike a Ford Everest, but with the darkness around me, I couldn't be certain. What I could be sure of though was that that pair of lights became four, then four became eight, and before I knew it, I could spy that would look like ten headlights. Five cars- all speeding along the highway, following us- and looked to be picking up speed.

"Uh, Ethan…"

"What kid? If you are about to ask, are we there yet, I'm kicking you out."

"No, is it normal for five cars to be following us?"

Ethan stood still for a moment, turning his head slightly to look out of the rearview mirror, clicking his tongue in annoyance- as if I had soured the mood by just opening my mouth. However, his eyes widened almost cartoonishly when he caught sight of five pairs of headlights, and the station wagon picked up in speed, the engineroaring. However, despite our increase in speed, the headlights outside were quickly gaining on us.

"How did those fuckers know I would be taking this road?!" Ethan swore like a sailor before he turned his attention to me as he took a puff of his cigarette. "Kid, you know how to use a gun."

"What? No! I've never even touched one."

"Then it seems today isn't your lucky day after all." The middle-aged man dumped what was left of his cigarette out of the window before he reached into the glove box right in front of me and pulled out a small pistol- what looked to be an old-school magnum, the type a detective would use in an 80's action flick. He dumped it in my lap, and pushed the gas pedal harder- the engine screaming in what I thought could be in pain.

"The safety's already off, just pull back the hammer, aim, and squeeze the trigger. Shouldn't be too hard for a young lad like you."

"The fuck you mean 'shouldn't be too hard'?"

"Try not to get shot, kid. I hate cleaning blood out of the seats."

"Has this happened before?!"

The cars that were following us were right on our tail now, somehow gaining some vital ground on us as we argued, despite Ethan's car going all out. I was left with little choice other than to accept my situation, then I heard the loud bang of a pistol, and the sound of the back glass window shattering. Small shards of glass bounced off my clothes like plastic BBs, and a couple hit my exposed skin, drawing a small amount of blood from my left forearm. It burned, and with a dull realisation, I understood that this is what being cut felt like. If I felt scrapes hurt this much, then I didn't want to know what being shot full of holes felt like.

I looked towards the windscreen, and sure enough, a small, cracked hole rested dangerously close to where the driver seat was. If that had connected, it would have probably hit Ethan's shoulder blade, and worst-case scenario, the station wagon would have lost control and toppled over.

Shit, shit, shit. Is this real? My arms bleeding, and I'm going to become swiss cheese. Oh no- why me, why me?

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and I was physically shaken out of my panic-driven stupor. Ethan's wrinkled face looked directly at me, eyes firm and a frown upon his lips.

"What you are waiting for kid! An invitation!? Shoot the bloody fuckers."

Another spray of bullets hit the car; I heard the sound of metal crumpling before I heard the loud bang of a pistol firing. I swallowed my hesitation, ignored my instincts, and tried to figure out a way to solve my current situation. The main problem was how I was going to shoot to the people shooting at me, without getting shot full of holes. I had seen in movies that people leaned out of the side windows to shoot, but the empty space where the class window was provided plenty of space to open fire, without having to break any more windows.

Yeah, this works. I can do this. I can do this.

I pulled back the hammer and aimed at the car that was only twenty metres away from us, pointing the barrel at the left-hand side, where the driver should be seated. I breathed in, and breathed out trying to calm my nerves, trying to ignore that I was shooting to kill. I pulled the trigger, and the sound of dice rattling soon followed.

10 + 6 + 7 = 23

The gun bucked in my hand, the recoil pushing my hands up towards the roof of the car. The bones in my arms and my wrists ached, whilst my index finger screamed in pain. I heard glass shattering and looked away from my sore hand to the car that I had just shot at. The car swiftly skidded to the left- obviously out of control, before it slammed into a second vehicle.

The awful whine of metal colliding upon metal echoed across my ears before I heard no more. I could see a small flame flicker within the shadow of darkness from under the bonnet of a ruined car, and it seemed that the three remaining cars noticed the flames also. Since their respective drivers hit the brakes and were in the process of turning around to help their mates, or at least, those who had survived the crash.

… I might have killed someone. Someone might be dead because of me.

Most would describe such a line of thinking with a sudden bout of nausea, or a sudden sense of being face-to-face with their own mortality. Sure, I felt those two feelings, but those feelings stood below the ease I had felt whilst I pulled the trigger. During the whole process, from aiming down sights to pulling the trigger, it felt as natural as breathing.

It was as if I had been shooting metal cans at a festival instead of a live, breathing human being. In the end, it had all been too easy to pull the trigger once I found the courage, and the gun that was still within my aching grasp felt as familiar as my smartphone. It was as if my entire being had been designed solely for combat… and that scared me almost as much as Night City did. I felt a fist hit my shoulder, pulling me out of my mini-brooding session- and I turned my head to see the easy-going grin of Ethan.

"I said squeeze, not pull! You're lucky that you were able to hit anything at all, kid. Might want to fix your arm up though, can't have yourself bleeding out midway. Bandages are in the glove box." The man who had started this whole shitshow, patted my arm roughly "And what did I tell you, kid, wasn't all that hard, right?"

My eye twitched as I struggled to hold back a flurry of curses that were all aimed at his smug, wrinkled face. I reached into the glove box, put the magnum back and fished for a roll of fresh bandages. I started to do an amateur job at patching up my admittedly minor wounds, hissing as the cloth touched the shallow cuts left by the glass shards.

"You owe me a fucking explanation, Ethan."

"I said no unneeded questions, remember."

"That excuse keeled over and died as soon as I was shot at."

"… Fair point. You want to the long story, or the short?"

"I want the part that explains why we had five fucking cars on our ass!"

"Well, it all started..."