Chapter 1: Dearly Departed

V didn't know what to expect when he entered Mikoshi. But he knew what he wasn't expecting—waking up somewhere that wasn't Mikoshi. He expected more building blocks than… an apartment room?

The apartment's damp heat pressed in on him like a vice. The air was thick with mildew and sweat, the kind of stale decay that clung to places abandoned by hope. He scanned the room, his eyes moving over the scattered belongings, the overturned furniture. Whoever lived here was surviving, but barely. The whole place reeked of desperation.

Then he saw the kid.

The boy was crumpled in the corner, hugging an EMT jacket like it was the last thing tethering him to this world. His shoulders shook violently, his face buried in the fabric. V didn't need to ask what had happened. The hollow look in the boy's tear-streaked eyes told him everything: someone was dead.

V's gut twisted. He crouched, keeping his movements slow, trying not to disturb the kid's fragile world. What the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't help this kid. Couldn't even help himself. He was still trying to figure out where the hell he was.

His eyes fell on the door—a way out. Escape. He stood up, reached for the handle, but his hand passed through it like smoke. V froze, staring at his glitching fingers, a cold dread washing over him.

"Johnny?" he whispered, his voice barely breaking the silence.

But it wasn't Johnny who answered.

"Who's there?" the kid's voice cracked, thick with exhaustion and fear. "How did you get in? I… I don't have any eddies, okay?"

V turned slowly. The kid was staring right at him—like he could actually see him. That wasn't supposed to happen.

V raised his hands, palms out, trying to look as unthreatening as possible. "I'm not here for that, kid. Just… just calm down."

He took a step forward, but his body flickered again, glitching as he phased through the couch. The kid's eyes widened in horror.

"What the fuck? Are you a ghost?" the boy's voice trembled, panic rising.

V was about to shrug, but then the memories hit him, slamming into him like a freight train. They weren't his own—someone else's. The boy's. He gripped his head, teeth gritted as the room around him dissolved.

Gunfire. Screams. Explosions.

The boy wasn't just crying. He had watched his mother die in a gang shootout, her body torn apart by stray bullets. And in her final moments, her voice had reached him through the chaos.

"I love you, mijo."

V gasped, the memory so vivid it left him shaking. He wasn't prepared for this—wasn't ready to carry someone else's grief. But now he was stuck in it, trapped in this tragedy that wasn't his but felt too close.

"Kid..." V's voice was rough, hoarse. "You… you jack any 'Saka chip recently?"

The boy glared at him, his eyes swollen from crying. "Just… the Sandevistan," he spat out, almost like it was a cruel joke.

V's stomach dropped. This street kid had a Sandevistan installed. "Any other cyberware?"

The kid shook his head, still watching V like he didn't know whether to be terrified or angry.

V sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He had no clue what the hell was going on. "Well, it seems like we're stuck with each other for now."

"What do you mean, stuck?" David's voice was sharper now, his eyes narrowing as he took in V's glitching form. His exhaustion was still there, but fear had started to harden into something else. Suspicion. "I don't even know who the fuck you are."

V's mouth twitched. He couldn't blame the kid—he wouldn't trust him either, not after what he'd seen. "I'm just trying to help, kid. You've been through some heavy shit. You got a Sandevistan wired into you and something's not right. We need to get you checked out."

David shook his head, backing away from V like he was radioactive. "I don't need your help. I don't even know what you are—some kind of glitch in the system, a Corpo fuck-up? Just stay away from me!"

V flinched at the accusation. "Listen, I get it. You don't trust me. But if you don't let someone take a look at that hardware, it's gonna fry your brain. And trust me, I've been there. I've seen how bad it can get."

David's lip curled into a sneer. "You don't know me. You don't know what I've been through." His voice cracked, grief and anger mixing together, the pain of his mother's death still fresh, still raw. "What's your angle, huh? Why do you even care?"

"I don't have an angle, kid!" V snapped, his patience wearing thin. "I'm just trying to stop you from ending up dead in the gutter! You think I don't know what it's like to lose someone? I lost—" He stopped himself, the name caught in his throat.

But David wasn't backing down. "I don't need your pity. I don't need anyone." He hugged the EMT jacket tighter, like it was his last line of defense against a world that had already taken everything from him. "I don't trust you."

V clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to argue. He couldn't force the kid to trust him, but he couldn't leave him like this either. Not when he knew what was coming. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get the words out, the world around them seemed to warp.

David's eyes widened as a memory—not his—flooded his mind.

Suddenly, he wasn't in the apartment anymore. He was in a car, speeding down a highway. There was blood—so much blood. The driver next to him, a man with a short beard and a knowing grin, was bleeding out. The bullet wound in his side pulsed with every second, his life slipping away.

"The biochip… hold onto it for me." the man said, his voice weak, eyes filled with pain but trying to stay brave. He tried to smile, but his breath came in ragged gasps.

The memory hit David like a punch to the gut. He could feel the driver's fear, the anguish of watching his best friend die right beside him, powerless to stop it.

"Jackie…" V's voice echoed, trembling in David's head. "I tried… I tried to save him."

The memory snapped back to reality, the cold, damp apartment. David stumbled back, gasping for air, his heart racing. His body shook, overwhelmed by the grief that wasn't his own but felt just as real.

V's eyes were hard but filled with a sadness that hadn't quite left him, not even after all this time. "I lost someone too, kid. I know what you're feeling. And if you don't want to end up like me, we need to go. Now."

David stared at V, breathing heavily. His distrust was still there, but now something else flickered behind his eyes—confusion, maybe even a little understanding. He swallowed hard, clutching the EMT jacket tighter.

V stepped forward cautiously, his voice softer this time. "We both lost people. But if you let me help, we can at least figure out what the fuck's going on. Otherwise, the chip's gonna burn you up from the inside."

For a moment, silence hung between them, thick and tense.

Finally, David nodded, just slightly. "Fine. But you try anything… and I'll make sure you regret it."

V gave a half-smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Fair enough."

V phased into existence, the glitchy sensation making his skin crawl. He was starting to understand how Johnny felt all those times he'd just appeared out of nowhere. It wasn't a feeling he ever wanted to get used to.

"You know a good ripperdoc?" V asked, glancing at the kid—David, he corrected himself mentally. He had to start calling him something other than "kid."

"Uh… there's Doc," David muttered, his voice low, like he didn't want to say it out loud.

V smirked, tapping the side of his head. "You know, you can just think it. I'll hear."

D's eyes flicked up, wary but curious. "There's a Doc. Pretty cheap. Only problem is, he might steal the Sandy from me."

The words echoed directly in V's mind, and it threw him for a second. He wasn't used to having someone else's thoughts just show up like that. He could almost feel the kid's anxiety bleeding through the connection.

V chuckled softly. "Yeah, that sounds about right. Anyone willing to slap a Sandevistan onto a kid like you is probably betting you'd flatline and they'd get it back for free." He leaned back, arms crossed. "Tell you what, I can introduce you to a better doc. Up in Watson. Safer than your 'Doc.'"

David looked skeptical, but he nodded, his mind still buzzing with questions V could feel but didn't need to address right now.

When they boarded the rail train, D kept staring, his eyes flicking between the passing buildings and V. Finally, V raised an eyebrow. "Choom, you're staring pretty hard," he said, half amused.

David blinked, startled. "I never got your name."

V chuckled, shaking his head. "What, 'Ghost' doesn't work for you?" He paused, then gave a more genuine answer. "Call me V."

David hesitated for a beat. "David."

V's eyes narrowed as he leaned in slightly. "So, D, tell me—how'd a kid like you end up with a Sandy strapped to his back?"

David looked away, staring at the floor of the train. His lips pressed into a thin line, like he wasn't sure if he should say it. But then, after a long pause, he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"It was in her jacket," he said, his tone flat but with an undercurrent of pain that V could feel in his gut. "My mom… she was an EMT. I found the Sandy hidden inside one of the linings after she…" David trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. V didn't push. He knew that feeling all too well—the weight of unfinished words left behind by the dead.

David swallowed hard, continuing, "There's this guy in my class, some corpo brat from Arasaka. Rich kid. Always flaunting his implants, talking shit like he's better than the rest of us. I… I guess I just wanted to show him I wasn't weak. That I could be just as good, y'know?" His voice wavered slightly, betraying the vulnerability he tried to hide.

V leaned back against the seat, a sharp exhale escaping his lips. "You decided to install that to show up some corpo prick?" There was disbelief in his voice, but more than that—there was something else bubbling underneath.

David nodded slowly, still not meeting V's eyes. "Doc told me it was military grade, probably used by some elite trauma team. I didn't care. Just wanted to prove something. To myself, to them… I dunno."

V's jaw tightened. Military-grade? This kid had no idea what he'd strapped onto his body. No idea how much damage it could do—not just physically, but mentally. And that Doc… V's hands clenched into fists at his sides. Whoever this shady ripper was, he'd let a street kid, barely out of his teens, walk away with gear that could tear his system apart. V was torn between awe that David had actually survived it and rage that anyone thought it was a good idea in the first place.

"Christ, D…" V muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "Do you even realize how dangerous that thing is? Military-grade cyberware… it ain't something you just install on a whim. It could've fried you the second you slotted it. What the fuck was that Doc thinking?"

David's jaw set, and for the first time, he looked up, his eyes flashing with defiance. "I didn't ask for your opinion, choom. I've survived this long with it, haven't I?"

V shook his head, his emotions a tangled mess of anger and something else—something that felt like concern. He couldn't help but see bits of himself in the kid, that same recklessness, the same hunger to prove something to a world that wouldn't give you a break.

"That doesn't mean you're in the clear," V shot back, leaning in, his voice low and hard. "Military-grade means your body isn't built to handle it long-term. That thing will eat you alive if you're not careful. You're not invincible, D."

David stood up abruptly, the motion sharp. "What the fuck do you care? I don't even know you! You show up out of nowhere, telling me what I should and shouldn't do like you know anything about my life." His voice was rising now, frustration pouring out. "You think I wanted this? I didn't ask to lose my mom. I didn't ask to be stuck in this shithole of a life!"

V opened his mouth to respond, but stopped short. The anger on David's face—it was too familiar. He'd seen it in the mirror more times than he could count.

Silence stretched between them, thick with unresolved tension. The train rattled on its tracks, the city flying by in a blur outside.

Finally, V spoke, his voice quieter this time, but firm. "I get it, D. More than you know. But that's why you need to listen. We'll head to a ripperdoc I trust, get you checked out. That Sandy might feel like a gift now, but it'll turn into a curse if you're not careful."

David looked like he wanted to argue, but something in V's tone made him hesitate. His eyes flicked to the ground, shoulders slumping slightly.

"And after that? What then? You gonna tell me what to do next, too?" David muttered, though the heat had drained from his voice.

V sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "No, D. But I'll make sure you've got a fighting chance."

David didn't respond, just stared out the window as the train sped toward Watson, his face a mix of exhaustion, frustration, and something deeper—something V knew all too well.

The rest of the train ride there was silent. As V faded away.

David hopped off the train, glancing up at the neon lights that lined the streets of Little China in Watson. It was different here, so far from the familiar streets of Santo Domingo. The air felt strange—thicker somehow, the scent of spice and smoke swirling together in the muggy Night City air. The place had a kind of class, at least compared to the slums he called home.

Urmland Street. He found it. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed V, his strange guide, the guy who'd brought him here. A guy with a single letter for a name—V. That was about as bizarre as the way he phased in and out of existence. At first, David thought the Reaper had finally come for him. After everything he'd been through—the heist gone wrong, the chaos of the BD that he lived without ever jacking in—it wouldn't have surprised him.

But no, V wasn't the Reaper. He was something weirder. Something more dangerous, maybe.

"Misty's, right over there," V said, pointing toward a shop nestled between two grimy buildings. "Ask for Vik."

David nodded, his gaze lingering on V a second longer before he headed for the shop. As he stepped inside, he was hit with a wave of strange, herbal smells. The air here was different—calmer, quieter, like the world outside didn't quite belong.

"Welcome to Misty's Esoterica. How can I help you?" A soft voice spoke from behind the counter. David looked up and saw her—a woman with kind eyes and an aura of mystery that matched the shop's vibe perfectly.

"Uh… I'm looking for Vik? Ripperdoc, I think?" David asked.

Misty nodded, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "He's in the back. When you're done, come see me for a reading." She pointed toward a door at the back of the shop.

David smiled awkwardly. "I'll… uh, I'll be back for that reading." His mouth moved before his mind caught up, the words spilling out like a reflex. He blinked, wondering what had just happened.

Stepping into the back, David immediately noticed the difference. Vik's room wasn't like Doc's. It wasn't the dirty, dingy space he was used to—it was clean, orderly. There were no porn vids running on loop in the background. Instead, Vik sat in a chair, tuning his mechanical arm while watching a boxing match on a nearby screen.

"Vik?" David called out, his voice tentative.

The ripperdoc glanced up from his work, his sharp eyes scanning David head to toe. "What brings a kid like you to my shop?"

David hesitated, stepping forward. "I was told to get checked up."

Vik leaned back, sizing him up. "I don't install chrome for kids, choom. You're too young for that kind of thing."

David's jaw tightened. "Well… I already have the chrome installed. I just need someone else to take a look."

Vik raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You got a ripperdoc already, then? Why aren't you going to him?"

David snorted, shaking his head. "He's not good. The kind of doc who'd rip out my chrome and steal my organs if he could."

Vik chuckled, immediately understanding. "Ah, you went to Doc. Say no more, kid. Hop on the chair. What kind of chrome we talking?"

David hesitated, then walked over and sat down. "Just a Sandevistan. And, uh, I think an Arasaka chip too?"

At the mention of the Sandevistan, Vik's attention sharpened, completely ignoring the Arasaka chip. "A Sandevistan? You? How the hell did a kid like you get his hands on military-grade hardware like that?"

V phased into view next to them, arms crossed, tilting his head in confusion. "He's not questioning the 'Saka chip?" V muttered under his breath.

"Yeah…" David echoed, his voice trailing off. Something didn't add up, but he let it go.

Vik nodded toward a dock near the chair. "Jack in, let's get this looked at."

David plugged in, his heart racing as Vik began the diagnostic. The hum of the computer filled the room, and Vik's expression shifted, his brow furrowing as he glanced between the screen and David.

"Choom," Vik said slowly, tension creeping into his voice. "How are you even alive right now? That Sandevistan... it's not even installed properly. The only reason you're still kicking is because of the meds you're taking."

David blinked, confused. "Meds?" he asked sheepishly.

V facepalmed, groaning. "Of course. The kid I end up with isn't even a merc or a corp and he's gonna flatline because he doesn't know basic upkeep."

Vik shot David a sideways glance. "You're not taking any stabilizers? No neuroblockers? Choom, you've been running with a ticking time bomb strapped to your nervous system."

David swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "I didn't know… I thought it was fine."

"Yeah, well, it's not," Vik said, leaning back. "I'm gonna have to have a serious talk with your 'Doc' about malpractice. As for that Arasaka chip you mentioned—I'm not seeing anything. Just the Sandevistan."

"What the hell…?" V muttered, clearly frustrated, more confused than ever about the situation.

"But here's the good news," Vik continued, pushing his diagnostic screen to the side. "The Sandevistan? I can fix it. It's just a reinstall, but you need to be more careful. Control your uses, or it'll burn you out faster than you can blink."

David nodded, the relief short-lived as Vik's gaze sharpened. "Where's your bite bar?"

David's eyes widened, realizing he didn't have one. "Bite bar? Uh… yeah, I'm really gonna need to talk to Doc too," Vik muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

He reached for a small vial and an injector. "This is a mild anesthetic. It'll numb the pain while I work on the chrome. You won't feel a thing, but don't push your luck with the Sandy again until you know what you're doing."

David gave a hesitant smile, trying to play it cool, but he was clearly nervous. Vik injected him, and almost instantly, the world started to fade. His vision blurred, the edges of his consciousness slipping away as darkness closed in.

Watching over David as Vik worked, V started to get this nagging feeling in the back of his mind. Something about Night City didn't sit right. At first, it was just a passing thought, something he chalked up to stress or the weirdness of phasing in and out of reality. But the more he looked around, the more it gnawed at him.

It wasn't obvious—not at first. But as he paid closer attention to the details, it became harder to ignore. Everything felt… slightly off. The city was the same, but the tech—no, the cyberware—was just a little outdated. Not in a glaring way, but subtle enough to make his skin crawl.

The advertisements on the street corners, the cyberlimbs people were sporting, even the gear Vik had in his shop—it all seemed like models from a few years back. Two, maybe three years. V knew his tech; he'd been around Night City long enough to spot the upgrades when they hit the market. Vik was usually ahead of the curve, always running the latest or near-latest equipment.

Now, though, everything felt like it was stuck in time. Like the city had hit pause just before a big leap forward.

V frowned, leaning against the wall as he watched David begin to fade under the anesthetic. "Something's off…" he muttered under his breath, scanning Vik's shop again. But what was it?

He couldn't shake the sense that he should know the answer. Like he was staring right at it, but it wasn't fully clicking yet. Was it just the stress? The aftershock of being ripped out of Mikoshi and thrown into whatever the hell this was?

No. This wasn't just stress. This was something else. Something deeper.

The models of the cyberware, the older branding on street signs, even some of the people's clothing choices felt like echoes from a time he barely remembered. V's eyes narrowed. He was still piecing it together, but he couldn't deny the creeping suspicion anymore.

Night City was still Night City, but it wasn't the one he knew.

Not exactly.

He kept his thoughts to himself, though. It was just a feeling, after all. A weird itch at the back of his mind. He wouldn't know for sure until he had more answers. But for now, he couldn't shake the thought that something was very, very wrong.

As V leaned back against the wall, his mind shifted from the unsettling details of the city to the kid lying unconscious in Vik's chair. David. This kid had a Sandevistan—a high-end piece of chrome—strapped to his back, barely installed right, yet somehow he was still standing, still breathing. It was reckless. Suicidal even. And it reminded V of someone else—someone he'd heard stories about.

David Martinez.

The name flashed through V's mind, bringing with it the weight of legends. Martinez had been a street kid who rose from nothing, powered by a Sandy just like this one. He became a legend in Night City, defying the odds in a way V could only respect. Some said he went up against Adam Smasher, the unstoppable force of Arasaka's fury, and held his own—for a time.

V knew that kind of grit. That willingness to face the impossible with nothing but broken dreams and chrome to back you up. It was the kind of fire that either turned you into a legend or left you a smoldering corpse in the gutter.

But David? This David? Couldn't be the same guy. He was too young, too green. He didn't even know how to manage his Sandy, much less take on someone like Smasher. Still, there was something in the way the kid carried himself. The raw potential was there, buried under layers of fear and inexperience.

V's eyes narrowed, studying him closely. Could it just be a coincidence?

It didn't sit right with him. That name—David—and the Sandevistan… and the creeping feeling that something was off about the city.

His thoughts wandered further, circling back to a gnawing question he hadn't yet asked. The only way to know for sure if his suspicions were even remotely close to the truth was simple enough.

Once the kid woke up, V decided, he'd ask him a couple of things. His full name. The time. The date.

The answers to those questions might change everything. Hope. Something V hadn't felt in months.

Author Notes:

Word Count: 4111

WOOOOOOOOO, Chapter 1, let's see if I can get more out on time. But tell me how you like, what you don't like, no beta reader, so we do what we can to survive.

Yes the chapter name is a song title, this is to give more insight into our two main characters, V and D !!! Here the name and artist, give it a listen if you want.

Dearly Departed by Unlike Pluto

And the title of the story is as well.

Beautiful Crime by Tamer

Now onto the chapter, a lot of questions, where's Johnny, why is V in David's mind, what the hell happened in Mikoshi, where's Lucy, and many more!!! Hopefully I can answer these all in time, but what happened in V's world will be slowly revealed later. Some choices were very questionable by V…

Please review!