FOURTH_TIMER: 10%

[IMAGE OF A HAND REACHING OUT TO THE SUN DISPLAYED]

CURRENT_STATUS: "Vital Force"

ENTRY_DATA:

It's a bit of poetic justice to see a megacorporation-owned AV fall right of the sky, isn't it?

You've got the chooms, the tools, and the drive to see it done. It feels like nothing can stop the new momentum you've found, and answers about your condition and the true nature of the biochip are sure to follow. So what if Kang Tao will do anything and everything in its power to keep Songbird out of your reach?

After all, what goes up...must come down.

The Badlands stretched out like an endless sea of shadow beneath the starless sky, the Aldecaldos' camp barely visible through the veil of night. The hum of distant generators and the soft creak of tents swaying in the breeze filled the otherwise still air. Most of the Aldecaldos had already turned in, their silhouettes moving faintly in the distance as they settled into their respective tents.

River and Rogue stood in silence at the camp's entrance, their eyes scanning the horizon, taking in the sight. The vast, open desert held a stillness that neither of them found entirely comforting. River, accustomed to the cramped city streets, found the quiet unnerving, like the calm before a storm. His eyes followed the low-lit trail of mobile homes and supply crates, lingering on the half-lit tents. Rogue, on the other hand, was still entirely composed. She may have made a home for herself in Night City, but she was not wholly unfamiliar with life in the desert.

Not far from them, Judy was knee-deep in her work. A cluster of disassembled drones surrounded her, the faint glow of her tablet illuminating her focused expression. She and Carol, the Aldecaldos' own techie, were deep in conversation, their voices low but rapid, discussing the delicate process of modifying the drones. Judy's fingers worked with deft precision, swapping parts and fine-tuning systems, while Carol handed her tools and offered her experienced insight. The task was clearly no small feat, but the two women worked together in sync, like seasoned pros. V stared on, impressed by how fast they were working.

His attention then turned to the distant figures of Panam and Saul near the heart of the camp. They were far enough away that their voices did not carry over the sound of the crackling fire and the low whir of the techies at work. But even from here, V could read their body language clearly.

Panam's posture was assertive, her arms gesturing lightly as she explained the situation to Saul. Though he could not make out the words, it was obvious she was choosing them carefully, holding back just enough of the full story to keep Saul from digging deeper. V's eyes flickered toward Saul—his scowl was unmistakable even in the dim light. He was obviously not fond of the idea of outsiders making themselves comfortable in his camp, even if only briefly.

V clenched his jaw, feeling the tension between the two. He was not entirely sure how Saul would react to their presence, especially given the nature of the job they were about to pull off. But as the conversation wore on, Saul's broad shoulders slumped just slightly, his hand running through his unkempt hair. The reluctance was still there, written all over his face, but the signs of resignation were unmistakable.

Panam had won him over. Yet again.

V exhaled a quiet sigh of relief, his shoulders relaxing a fraction. Saul was no fool—he had every reason to be cautious. But V could sense that Saul's trust in Panam had grown. She was co-leader now, and even if it bothered him to admit it, Saul had begun to rely more and more on her judgment. V could see it in the way he finally shook his head, waving off her explanation with a gruff motion before turning to walk away.

Panam stood for a moment, watching Saul retreat toward a trailer, before turning back towards V. She caught his gaze across the distance and gave him a small nod, her lips curving into a slight, knowing smile. The Aldecaldos might not have been on board with this whole operation at first, but with Panam's quiet diplomacy, they had earned themselves a small, brief window of trust.

"You know…I will admit, this is a bit strange for me. Hell, maybe even refreshing." Rogue suddenly spoke, her lips twitched into the slightest hint of a smirk. "It's been…what, a lifetime since I've been a merc? Yet here I am…about to do it all over again."

V turned his head slightly, surprised by the admission. Rogue was always composed, calculated—rarely did she ever let anyone glimpse behind that steel exterior.

"If you'd told me back in twenty-twenty that I'd end up a fixer…" she let out a dry chuckle. "I'd have laughed in your face."

V nodded slowly, understanding the sentiment all too well. He stared down at the worn dirt under his boots, feeling the strange weight of the moment. "Yeah…it's strange for me too." he admitted. "Ever since Jackie…well, I've been running gigs solo. Just me, one job after another. No team. No backup. No one to watch my six."

His gaze drifted toward the fire, the flickering flames mirroring his restless thoughts. "Having people at my side again…it feels weird. Not in a bad way, just—different." He paused, then added with a small, determined shrug, "But I'll adjust. I gotta."

Rogue glanced at him from the corner of her eye, studying his expression. "I'm sure you will." she said, her voice a touch softer than usual, almost reassuring. "One thing you learn after living through this life long enough—adapt or die. You've got the right instincts for it, kid. Just don't lose 'em."

V grinned at Rogue's rare encouragement, a flicker of warmth burning in his chest. But just as the grin settled on his face, his Kiroshi optics flashed, a small icon appearing in the corner of his vision—a holocall. The name flashed: Takemura.

The grin faded, and V's expression shifted into something more serious.

"Uh, gimme a sec." he said, excusing himself from Rogue's side.

He walked away from the glow of the campfire, into the shadows at the edge of the camp.

Takemura. V had not spoken to the man in a while, not since he had pulled him from a burning and collapsing building infested with Arasaka operatives, saving his life. They were not exactly friends, but there was a certain unspoken respect between them. Still, Takemura rarely called for anything casual.

V hesitated for a moment, then finally accepted the call. The image of the stoic, gruff face of Goro Takemura materialized in front of him, projected from his Kiroshis.

"V." Takemura greeted, his tone formal, as always.

The man was all about manners and discipline, a product of the old Arasaka way. But there was something sharp in his voice, a pressing urgency beneath the formality.

"Takemura…" V muttered, his voice cool but carrying a hint of amusement. "Still alive, huh?"

Takemura's holographic image remained stern, his expression as rigid as ever. His dark eyes, however, narrowed slightly, the only betrayal of any emotion beneath his stoic exterior. His face looked old, worn from constant conflict, yet still hard as stone—every line carved deep with discipline.

"Yes." Takemura replied, his tone gruff but unwavering, his voice carrying a weight of exhaustion. "I am still alive—but only because of your actions. For this, I am eternally grateful. Thank you."

V shrugged, casually brushing off the old man's gratitude. "Didn't call just to say 'thank you', I bet. You're calling about something else—it ain't ever simple with you."

Takemura's face tightened, the slightest shift in his jaw. "You are wrong. It would bring me dishonour to not thank you for saving my life. I would have called, no matter what." he said, his voice steady, with the same edge of formality that had been ingrained into him through years of loyalty and servitude.

"But…yes." he continued after a brief pause, his voice dipping lower. "I am calling about something else, as well."

V folded his arms, leaning back slightly, the winds of the Badlands rustling his hair. He glanced over his shoulder, ensuring no one from the camp was close enough to overhear the conversation. The soft hum of Judy and Carol working on the drones echoed faintly in the distance, but they were far enough. He was not being overheard.

"I know you have spoken with Hanako-sama." Takemura said, his voice as sharp and controlled as ever. "You heard her offer. A chance to deal with your…problem." he grumbled, his eyes narrowing slightly before continuing. "But you have not given your answer yet. Why are you delaying?"

V's frown deepened, his arms still crossed, but now his stance shifted. There were precious few who knew about the meeting at Embers. He met Takemura's unwavering gaze through the holocall.

"How the hell do you know about that?" he asked, his voice low. "Actually—where the fuck are you right now? Thought Arasaka would've had you flatlined by now."

Takemura's expression remained impassive, refusing to betray too much. "By Hanako-sama's boundless wisdom and grace…I am safe." he replied curtly. "She has placed me in a secure location. I have been granted…what do you call it? Ah—clemency."

Takemura always spoke with that rigid honour, but now there was a different undertone—an edge of desperation, tightly controlled but present nonetheless. The mention of Hanako's supposed grace only made the merc more suspicious. He knew the games Arasaka played, and it was never as simple as protection out of goodwill. If he was being kept alive by Hanako, it was only because the old man was still applicable as a useful tool.

"You sure it's clemency? " V's voice carried a cynical bite, though it was masked behind his casual tone. "Sure it ain't Arasaka…repurposing an old asset?"

Takemura's jaw clenched, but he held back the immediate retort. "You misunderstand. I am here by choice—my duty is clear. I serve a purpose. Unlike you, thief, I understand my role."

As V listened to Takemura's words, a familiar, spectral presence began to materialise beside him. Johnny faded into view, arms crossed over his chest, his trademark smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. The glint in his eyes was both amused and unapologetically disgusted.

"Well, well…" Johnny muttered. "Looks like ol' Takemura's traded one leash for another. Saburo's lapdog, now Hanako's." he shook his head, the derision in his voice palpable. "Guess he was right. Old dogs really can't learn any new tricks, can they?"

V glanced at Johnny from the corner of his eye, trying not to let the glitched vision distract him too much.

But Johnny leaned in closer, his silver arm reflecting the moonlight. "Better not spill too much to this guy." he warned. "He's not our ally—never was. Hanako's got him by the balls now, and you don't want to get roped into whatever game she's playing."

Slowly, V nodded, more to the digital ghost beside him than to Takemura. With a flicker of a grin, the merc's voice took on a sharper edge.

"Well, let's just say…I've found another lifeline." he started, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, "So, tell Hanako not to hold her breath."

Takemura's stoic face faltered, genuine surprise breaking through his hardened mask. "What does that mean—lifeline?" he repeated, voice tinged with disbelief. "What have you found, V?"

V chuckled, giving a casual shrug. "Wouldn't you like to know, choom."

Takemura's words grew clipped and tense, each sentence short and aggressive, betraying his growing frustration. "You are making a mistake. Whatever 'lifeline' you have found… it is nothing but false hope, V. Empty promises." his voice sharpened, the underlying urgency creeping into every word. "There is no other cure. No other solution. The only path to survival…lies with Hanako-sama."

"Maybe. But I ain't gonna put all my chips on Arasaka—I ain't a gonk."

"Then you are walking into your own death, willingly." Takemura hissed.

V gave a slight shrug, letting the weight of his decision linger in the air. "Guess we'll see about that, huh?"

A tense silence settled between them for a moment after V's words. The merc could hear the faint rustling of sand in the breeze now, the winds of the desert were beginning to pick up, but through the holocall, there was only the sound of Takemura's breath, tight and regulated.

Finally, a heavy sigh broke the silence.

"Your foolish decisions are yours to make." Takemura muttered, the disappointment thick in his tone. "But…I must repay my debt to you before we finish speaking."

V raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Hm? What could you even give me?"

There was a brief pause before Takemura answered. "Information. I will warn you—Oda has made a full recovery. He is…active, again."

V stiffened, a cold shudder running down his spine at the name.

Oda. The memory of that brutal fight came rushing back—Japantown, the parade, the chaos of flashing neon lights as he battled Takemura's student, the skilled and deadly Sandayu Oda. It had been more of a messy, desperate brawl than any kind of honourable duel, and V had barely scraped by, surviving through sheer grit and luck. Oda's strength, his precision—it was enough to make V sweat at the memory of how close it had been. Too close.

V took a breath, forcing himself to stay calm, hiding the concern that crawled up his spine. His voice came out steady, almost casual, as he asked, "So…is he coming for me?"

Takemura's face became impassive. "No." he replied curtly. "Oda's duty is to protect Hanako-sama above all else. He would not jeopardize her safety for personal vengeance."

"Hm, that so?"

But Takemura's voice hardened. "However…" he continued, a warning lacing his tone. "Oda's defeat at your hands—at the hands of a mere thief—has tarnished his honour. His own people now look down upon him with shame."

V and Johnny's eyes met again, neither of them surprised that the megacorporation still saw V as nothing more than a pesky street rat. Below them—in need of eradication.

"If you ever become a threat to Hanako-sama again…" Takemura went on, his voice dark and certain, "Oda will do anything—anything—to protect her…and reclaim his honour from your corpse."

V kept his expression steady, despite hearing the very real danger. Oda was not just a stalwart bodyguard; he was a man with something to prove now. He would be even more deadly than the last time V had encountered him—if their paths did indeed cross again.

The merc grumbled, more irritated than ever. "You're really starting to make me regret sparing your precious student…should've just zero'd him when I had the chance."

Takemura hardly reacted to the crude comment. "But you did not." he said simply. "For that, I thank you again."

V groaned, rubbing his forehead. He was about to end the call when a far more troubling thought hit him like a cold shock down his spine. He hesitated for a beat, then his voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper. "Wait… Takemura."

"Yes?"

V gulped, the question burning his throat. "Are you active again too?"

The old man's voice seemed confused, as he failed to follow. "What do you mean?"

"Have they, uh…re-enabled your implants?"

There was a pause on the other end. A long, heavy silence. But when the old man's voice seeped through the holocall one last time, he gave the last answer that V wanted to hear.

"Yes. They have."

Johnny's ghostly figure shimmered beside V, and even he, for once, seemed visibly rattled by the news. His silver hand clenched as he cursed under his breath. "Fuck. Hang up, V."

V did not hesitate. He ended the call immediately, scratching his face gently as he fell into contemplation. For a moment, the silence felt louder than it should have, the weight of what he had just learned hanging over their heads.

"Shit." V muttered. "Oda's already bad news, but Takemura? Hanako could probably sic 'em on us any time she wants…"

Johnny's holographic form paced restlessly, shining under the moonlight. He shook his head, not as impressed by V's concerns. "Loyal dogs—that's all they are. Don't make 'em out to be bigger than they are."

V raised an eyebrow, glancing at the rockerboy. "Oda nearly flatlined me, Johnny."

"But you won." Johnny fired back, his gaze wandering to the endless expanse of the desert, still unimpressed. "And you've never even seen that Takemura prick in action."

"Need I remind you, he was the bodyguard of Saburo fucking Arasaka—choom's gotta be insane when he's got his implants. Doesn't exactly sound like a walk in the park."

Johnny snorted, crossing his arms. "Even more of a reason to avoid them like the fucking plague, then. We've got a new lead—focus on that. Last thing we need are more distractions."

V nodded slowly, but could not shake the unease. Johnny was not wrong, but that did not make the looming threat any less real. "Yeah, distractions...let's just hope that's all they end up being…"

The sound of footsteps crunching in the sand snapped him out of his thoughts. He spun around, muscles tensed, but as the figure stepped into the dim moonlight, he relaxed, seeing Rogue's familiar silhouette cutting through the darkness.

"Come on." she said, beckoning him over with a quick motion. "Judy's done with the drones."

V blinked, surprised. "Already? That was fast…even for her."

Rogue nodded, her expression all business. "She's good, and that Carol's no slouch either. But we're running out of time. We have to get going, and your crew is still in the dark. Tell them the full story, V…while they still have some patience. I can't work with a crew that's distracted."

V hesitated, feeling a chill crawl up his spine at the mention of the impending deadline. The target—they could not miss it, not with everything at stake. The idea of delaying even a moment longer made him shudder. But Rogue was right. His friends deserved the truth. All of it.

Johnny materialised beside him again, his glitchy figure somehow managing to convey a reassuring presence as he gave V a firm, almost sarcastic pat on the back. "Time to introduce me, kid."

V took a deep breath, steeling himself. The weight of the biochip, the countdown on his life, and the tangled mess with Arasaka—all of it hung heavy in his gut. But now, with Rogue waiting and Johnny pushing him forward, there was no going back.

"Alright…" he muttered, his voice low and slightly quivering. "Let's get this over with."

The small campfire crackled softly, its embers glowing faintly as V's words hung in the air, heavy and raw. His friends were huddled around him, the warmth of the fire barely touching the weight of the revelation he had just laid bare. River sat with his arms crossed, eyes focused on the flames, processing everything. Judy, her brow furrowed, was quieter than usual, lost in thought. Panam had her elbows on her knees, leaning in closer, her expression unreadable, but the tension was evident in her clenched fists.

Behind them all, Rogue stood like a sentinel, her back turned to the group. She stared at the stars above, indifferent to the story she had already heard from the rockerboy himself. Her form was outlined by the faint light, but her mind was clearly elsewhere. The stars were brighter now, twinkling against the vast expanse of the Badlands sky, but Rogue seemed more interested in their silence than the words being spoken by the fire.

V hesitated, his voice dropping lower as he reached the most difficult part of the explanation. "The only reason I'm still breathing is because of the biochip." he said, his tone almost resigned. "But now, that same chip is killing me… or rather, it's trying to replace me."

He glanced briefly at Johnny, who stood a few paces away, arms folded, listening quietly for once. "Johnny's construct is on the chip. It's trying to overwrite my mind—piece by piece."

There was a pause, a weighty silence as the reality of what he said settled over them. River exhaled sharply, his usual calm demeanour breaking for a moment as he shook his head. "So…you could die at any moment?" his voice was heavy with disbelief, but also sympathy.

V nodded slowly. "Pretty much. Every day's a gamble."

"Ev's stupid biochip…of course it's still killing people." Judy lamented with a hiss, pain etched on her face. "...and you're sure… this woman, Songbird—she can help?" her eyes were piercing now, focused entirely on him.

"She has to." V responded, his voice laced with a quiet desperation. "She made it, Judy. No one knows the biochip better than her. If there's anyone out there who can fix this—who can stop Johnny—it's gotta be her."

Panam's expression twisted with frustration as she tried to wrap her head around everything V was saying. Biochips, digital ghosts, constructs of dead people's psyches—it all felt like something out of a dystopian nightmare that she could not quite grasp. The technology V was talking about was so far beyond anything she had grown up with out in the desert that it made her feel like she was chasing a conversation she could not keep up with.

She sat there, brows furrowed, her hands tightening into fists as she struggled to make sense of it all. Every word V spoke seemed to pull her further from understanding. This was most certainly not the world she knew. In her world, the problems were oil shortages, raids, keeping your family alive, not fighting to stop the ghost of a dead rockstar from taking over your mind.

For a long moment, she just stared at the smouldering campfire, its embers glowing in the dark, her thoughts racing but coming up short. She glanced back up at V, trying to push through the confusion.

"So…um, you're telling me…" she began, her voice a little harsher than she intended, "You've got this…rockerboy of old inside your head? And…you're going to become him?"

V nodded, his eyes soft with understanding. He could see how hard it was for Panam to follow this, how surreal it all must sound. "Yeah, it ain't easy to explain. But that's the gist of it."

Panam looked completely distraught, her frustration still simmering beneath the surface. She was not used to feeling helpless, but right now, she felt utterly out of her depth.

She exhaled sharply, then said. "And you're sure you don't want Hutch to take a look at it? I mean, he might not be some corpo bioengineer, but he's a seriously good ripperdoc. Maybe he could figure something out—"

"No." V cut in gently but firmly, shaking his head. "If it were that simple, we wouldn't be out here. I've had plenty of people—experts, even—try and fail. Chip's tech is way beyond anything a ripperdoc can handle. This ain't just your standard-issue implant. It's…something else, Panam. The only person who stands a chance of fixing this now is the one who built it in the first place."

"But…if this Johnny guy is stuck in your head…why can't you just tell him to stop it?" she asked, her voice growing rougher. "Dead man's got no right to take over your body."

V paused, glancing briefly at Johnny, who materialised next to him, arms crossed and face set in a scowl. They exchanged a look—Johnny's ghostly form softly reflecting the dim firelight—before V turned back to Panam.

"No…it ain't his fault." V said quietly, the weight of the situation hanging in his voice. "Johnny's not in control of the process. He…can't stop it."

Panam frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"

V ran a hand through his hair, trying to find the right words. "It ain't him—it's the chip. Doesn't matter what construct's written on it. It's overwriting my mind with his, bit by bit. Johnny's just…caught in the middle of it. He's not driving this. Hell, he doesn't want it any more than I do."

Panam blinked. "Wait…so, he's actually trying to help you?"

V nodded slowly, locking eyes with her again. "Yeah. Johnny knows this is wrong, too. We…had a rough patch at the start…two minds in one body'll do that, I guess. But we're seeing eye-to-eye now. That's why we need Song So Mi. We can't screw this up—or I'm done for."

"Christ, V..." Panam whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.

The shock in her tone was mirrored on the faces of the others. River had gone incredibly quiet, his brow furrowed in deep thought, while Judy's eyes were wide, her lips pressed into a thin line. It was clear that neither of them was holding it together all that well either.

V stared at them, taking in their stunned reactions, and for a fleeting moment, he questioned whether it had been a good idea to tell them the whole truth. Sure, they needed to know what they were getting into, but seeing the weight of it land on their faces—seeing them reeling—made him wonder if he had made a mistake. Perhaps some things were better left unsaid. But it was too late to turn back now.

Panam, though, recovered faster than the others. She blinked hard, then slapped both of her cheeks with her palms, forcing herself back into the moment. It was as though she shook off the shock by sheer force of will. She stood up from her seat, hands resting on her hips as she stared down at V.

"Alright!" she exclaimed, her voice loud and commanding. "We need to stay focused." her words sounded more like she was reassuring herself than anyone else, but she pressed on. "You've got a problem, V, and that corpo inside the AV can fix it. So, we just need to nab her. Simple as that. No point in overthinking it."

V could not help but smile, appreciating her no-nonsense resolve, even if he was not as confident as she sounded. "Yeah." he muttered, looking up at her. "Hope it'll be that simple."

Rogue, standing tall and emotionless as ever, stepped forward. "Enough talk. It's time." her voice was firm, authoritative, signalling the end of the conversation. "The AV should be coming up on Jackson Plains soon. We stick to the plan."

She glanced at each of them, her demeanour unshaken by the looming task. "River, you and I are heading to the Satwave Power Plant. We'll overload the receiver core and trigger the EMP ourselves. It has to go off like clockwork."

River gave a brief nod, exchanging a glance with Rogue, and readjusting his thick jacket.

Rogue then shifted her focus to Judy. "You stay back here. As soon as we hit the EMP, you launch those drones. Keep them outside the blast zone and send them in to intercept the AV right after it's hit. Make sure their EMPs reach their mark. Timing's everything."

Judy returned a tight-lipped nod, clearly unaccustomed to the scale of a task such as this. "U-Uh…you got it, ma'am."

Finally, Rogue turned to V and Panam. V felt a chill run down his spine, knowing they were next in line for their roles.

"You two…" Rogue began, her eyes locking with V's before flicking to Panam, "...are the clean-up crew. Once the EMPs hit and the AV goes down, we move in fast. V, Panam—you're getting inside that AV. We pull Song So Mi out, no matter what."

Before V could respond, Panam cut in sharply, her voice cold and firm.

"Yeah, we got it." she snapped, crossing her arms and giving a quick nod, not even waiting for V to voice his agreement. The irritation in her tone was hard to miss, especially when it came to Rogue. The last thing Panam wanted was to stand around listening to the crone's orders for a second longer than necessary.

Turning to V, Panam jerked her head toward the distance. "We'll take your car to the Plains. Let's go."

Just as V began to move, Rogue's voice cut through the night air, stopping them both in their tracks.

"Hold on." her tone was ice-cold and unwavering. "You're really just going to drive up to the AV without a thought?" she stared hard at Panam, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Listen, when that AV goes down, you're not walking into a deserted playground. It'll be swarming with Kang Tao operatives, drones, armed bots, turrets—you name it. Drive up in anything standard, and you'll be swiss cheese in seconds."

Panam rolled her eyes, letting out an irritated scoff. Being talked down to like a reckless rookie grated her nerves to the core, and Rogue's tone did not help in the slightest. "Relax, grandma. This isn't our first rodeo. We'll handle it."

Rogue was not even remotely fazed by the nomad's attitude. "You're not handling anything if you're dead in the first ten seconds. So unless you've got something armoured and durable, you're not taking anything into Jackson Plains."

Panam's frustration boiled over as she glared at Rogue. "What would you suggest then, huh?" she growled, trying to keep her voice low, though the anger still seeped through.

But Rogue did not miss a beat."The XT 451 Basilisk, of course. You have it, don't you? That should give you all the firepower you need."

Panam's eyes widened in shock, and fury followed in an instant. She hissed, stepping forward, her face inches from Rogue's as she still struggled to keep her voice down. "How the hell do you know about that?"

Rogue opted simply to chuckle than to grace the seething nomad with an answer.

Panam's fists clenched, a storm of rage building behind her eyes, but she knew better than to keep pressing. It was a foolish question anyway—Rogue was the Queen of the Afterlife for a reason. She always had her ears to the ground, no matter how far out the intel was buried.

Without waiting for an answer, Panam spun on her heel and grabbed V by the arm, dragging him along toward the tent where the Basilisk was stored.

"Come on." she muttered through gritted teeth, cursing under her breath as they moved. The cool night air whipped at their faces as they walked.

V kept up beside her, not saying much. He could sense how rattled she was, but more than that, he knew that—deep down—she obviously hated that Rogue was right. The Basilisk was perfect for the job.

"Who the fuck does she think she is…always looking down on everyone…" Panam muttered bitterly, shaking her head as they approached the tent.

V nodded, though he could not help but smirk a little at her frustration. "But she's right." he said, the words earning him a brief sideways glare from Panam. "It's our best shot. We both know the Basilisk can take some heat."

Panam did not respond, but she did not need to. The two of them had already piloted the beast once before, and the thought of going back inside it for a second run stirred something inside them both. It was a weapon of destruction, and tonight, it was their only way in.

As they neared the large tent, V could already make out the shadowy, hulking frame of the Basilisk waiting for them, dormant but still intimidating. It was going to be a rough ride, and they would be in the thick of the chaos when the AV went down—if it went down.

Panam let out a sharp exhale, trying to calm herself, her eyes narrowing in determination. "Alright. Let's get this done."

With the looming threat of Kang Tao's retaliation, the intensity of the mission, and the ever-present ticking clock, V and Panam prepared to climb back into the cockpit of the most powerful machine either of them had ever driven.

The battle was coming—and the Basilisk would lead the charge.

The Basilisk roared thunderously beneath them, its heavy engine rumbling like the heartbeat of some enormous beast as it tore across the desert.

Hovering just inches above the cracked, sandy ground, the massive panzer surged forward with a power that defied the rugged terrain, its hovering systems making quick work of dunes and rocks alike. The desert ahead was bathed in the stark, bright glow of its headlights, casting long shadows as it illuminated the way forward. The sheer momentum of the machine created a feeling of near-weightlessness, like absolutely nothing could stop them in their tracks.

Inside the cockpit, V sat strapped into his seat, his gaze locked on the stretch of desert ahead, though the landscape seemed almost distant—just background noise to the storm brewing inside him. A thick wire was attached to the back of his neck, connecting him directly to the Basilisk's neural interface. He could feel it—the sheer power of the machine running through his body, merging with his nerves, his thoughts.

And it was overwhelming.

His breathing was ragged, laboured, as his chest rose and fell with irregularity. Every inch of his skin tingled with sensation, overstimulated by the neural connection. Despite this being his second time hooked up to the Basilisk's systems, the intensity was still as shocking as the first. His senses felt heightened, raw. The thrum of the engine coursed through his body, making his muscles twitch involuntarily. Even the smallest movement from Panam, who sat beside him in the pilot's seat, felt as if it were his own. Every shift of her hands, every flicker of a neural impulse she sent through the interface to steer the beast, echoed through his own nervous system. It was almost…sensual.

Panam was piloting the Basilisk, her steady gaze focused on the path ahead, but V was connected—wired in just as deeply as she was. He was not responsible for controlling the panzer's movements, but rather, its weapons. There were no controls, nor buttons. The real control came from his mind. He could feel the massive guns mounted to the vehicle, like an extension of his own limbs. The weight of them. The power behind them. They responded to his thoughts, primed and ready, but it still felt foreign. Far too much.

Every breath felt like it had to be forced, as if his body was forgetting how to breathe on its own. The sensory overload was intense—almost unbearable—but he could not let it get to him. Not now.

The desert ahead blurred slightly in his vision as he struggled to focus. His breath became caught in his throat. His head pounded, the constant hum of the Basilisk's systems vibrating through his skull, almost drowning out the voice in the back of his mind—the one that was not his.

"Don't forget to breathe, V." Johnny's voice echoed in his mind, refusing to be drowned out by the panzer. It sparked a sense of reassurance in the merc's chest almost immediately. Even if he could not see the rockerboy at the moment, he was always with him.

"Can't let the damn thing fry your circuits. You're better than that." the phantom continued, a knowing tone in his gruff voice.

V clenched his jaw, forcing a deep, steady breath into his lungs. He tried his best to shut out the external noise— the overwhelming sensation of the Basilisk's systems pulsing through his body, the constant hum vibrating through his bones. He needed to pull his focus back, to find his own mind amidst the roar of machinery around him.

Slowly, as he centred himself, V started to regain a grip on his senses—not the Basilisk's, but his own. The tightness in his chest began to ease, his breath coming a little easier, though his nerves still felt frayed at the edges. But as he settled back into his seat, another sensation crept in, one he had not even noticed until just now—the cold.

He shivered, the chill creeping up his spine, spreading through his limbs. His skin prickled with goosebumps. The desert outside was extremely frigid this time of night, its biting cold creeping into the panzer despite the hum of power inside. The metal parts of the Basilisk were practically frozen, radiating the desert's freezing air. His teeth chattered slightly as he adjusted in his seat, trying to push the cold away from his mind again, but it was hopeless now.

V glanced downwards and to his right, his eyes settling on Panam. She was sitting in her own seat, leaning forward, completely was not a single sign of discomfort on her face. No shivering, no chattering teeth, no visible strain from the sensory overload of the neural interface. Just calm, steady control.

It was unbelievably impressive. For all the fire and anger Panam carried, she had an inner strength that could not be denied. He had noticed it before, that at moments like these—when the pressure was at its peak, and the odds were stacked against them—it was where she really shone. She was not rattled by the cold or the overwhelming feedback from the Basilisk's systems. She was handling it all with the same fierce determination that had gotten them both this far.

V simply could not help but marvel at her resilience. The sheer, stoic focus. The way she pushed through, no matter what. And it was not just Panam. His thoughts drifted to the others—his friends who were out there right now, fighting for him.

River and Rogue were already on their way, maybe even at the Satwave Power Plant by now. He could picture them busting their way inside, likely greeted by a hail of gunfire from the security forces and drones alike, risking their lives to overload the plant's systems, just to give him a chance to pull off this plan.

And Judy, back at the camp, running the drones. He imagined her in front of her makeshift command station, preparing to send out the modified drones to intercept the AV. All of them—Panam, River, Rogue, Judy—they were all here, helping him. Just so he could have a shot at saving his own life. The weight of it all suddenly hit him hard. V swallowed, the cold in his chest replaced by a rush of warmth—gratitude. He had spent so long fighting alone, pushing everyone away ever since Konpeki Plaza, but now, they were right here in the thick of it with him. He was not alone.

"Oh shit! V, do you see that?!" Panam's sudden exclamation snapped V out of his trance.

His head jerked up as he looked back at her. Panam was leaning to one side, her eyes wide, staring out the window, one finger outstretched, pointing into the night sky. Without hesitation, V whipped his gaze in the direction she was pointing, his pulse quickening as he squinted into the darkness.

For a few seconds, all he could see was the inky black of the desert night, the horizon blending into the sky, nothing but an endless void. But then, just barely cutting through the darkness, he spotted it. A black, cylindrical shape slicing through the sky at high speed, its lights faint but visible—an ominous silhouette roaring across the stars. The Kang Tao AV—the one carrying Songbird.

It was there.

"Holy shit…" V whispered, the surge of adrenaline flooding his system as he locked eyes on the vehicle. His body reacted instinctively, the cold that had clung to him only moments before completely disappearing as his senses heightened. "I see it!" he shouted, barely able to contain the rush of excitement and tension flooding his veins.

There it was, their target, flying just out of reach.

V and Panam stared in silence, hearts pounding in sync with the powerful rumble of the Basilisk as it powered across the desert floor. The sleek, black AV cut through the night sky like a predator. Its metallic surface gleamed under the dim moonlight, a few scattered red and white lights blinking across its hull.

V's eyes were glued to it, his body tensing up. The Basilisk's sensors tracked the AV's every movement, but it would do them no good until the EMP hit. They needed it to drop. They needed the accursed vehicle to crash.

The silence between them was palpable. Panam's hands were pressed firmly on the window, staring down the aircraft with every ounce of her strength through the glass. The seconds stretched, the tension inside the cockpit unbearable. Every breath V took felt shallow, almost painful, as if the weight of the entire desert was now pressing down on his chest.

"Come on...come on—come on…" he muttered desperately under his breath, his eyes flicking between the AV and the distant horizon, where the AV's silhouette began to blur into the sky.

Then, the sky was abruptly lit with a blinding blue hue.

The AV jolted, as if struck by an invisible force. Bright, crackling blue sparks erupted from its sleek surface, electricity surging outwards like lightning trapped inside a cage. The aircraft bucked wildly in the air, its lights flickering erratically as the systems onboard short-circuited from the surge of energy.

"Yes!" V gasped, the sight almost surreal, the AV looking as though it was being ripped apart from within.

Blue arcs of electricity zipped along the AV's belly, dancing like wild flames in the night. Its smooth, once-untouchable flight path had turned jagged, frenzied. The AV sputtered and trembled as if fighting to stay in control, the engines screaming louder now, their mechanical howls straining against the EMP's devastating blow. The Basilisk, on the other hand, physically shuddered at the impact of the surging blast, its screens flickering chaotically for a moment, but it remained steadfast, its incredible durability refusing to give in to the EMP. It remained operational—and hot on the AV's trail.

V nearly found himself grinning at the sight. "Panam!" he said, breathless with relief, his voice tinged with disbelief. "It worked…it fucking worked!"

But Panam shook her head sharply, her expression grim. "No…not yet!" she shot back, her tone cutting through V's fleeting moment of victory.

V blinked, snapping his gaze back to the sky just in time to see what she meant. The AV, though sputtering and crackling with electricity, was still hanging in the air, stubbornly refusing to fall.

His heart sank for a moment before it hit him—the plan was not over yet. Kaito was right. The EMP had not been enough on its own.

And then, he saw them.

Out of the darkness, a squad of military-grade drones came soaring through the sky like hawks diving for prey. They swarmed around the crippled AV, their shining bodies glinting in the brief bursts of blue light as they manoeuvred with surgical precision. V's eyes widened in awe at Judy's drones. The ones she'd modified to deliver their own EMP strikes.

The drones scattered and swarmed, weaving through the air around the AV, bright blue flashes of energy erupting from each of them in quick succession, crackling in the air like fireworks as they released their electromagnetic payloads. One by one, the drones emitted their final pulses of energy, and then tumbled to the ground, broken and useless.

The last surge of electricity hit the AV, and V could see the final death blow being dealt. Its engines roared and sputtered in protest, the blue sparks turning into violent arcs of energy that coursed through its metallic frame. The AV buckled under the onslaught, its once mighty roar fading into a choked sputter.

It was over.

The AV began to tilt forward, its nose pitching downward as it lost its battle with gravity. With a deafening creak of metal, the aircraft began its rapid descent. It tumbled from the sky, spiralling downward, helpless against the relentless pull of the earth.

Panam, her breath coming in ragged gasps now, looked at V, her eyes wild with the same surge of adrenaline coursing through him. "This is it!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with excitement, pushing the Basilisk forward even faster. "We're moving in, V! Now!"

V's heart pounded in his chest, the overwhelming relief now mixing with the surge of anticipation. This was it—the moment they had been waiting for. The AV was going down, and with it, their chance to grab Songbird had arrived.

The Basilisk growled furiously under Panam's command, its engines letting loose as it surged forward, racing across the unending stretch of sand and dirt. The ground beneath them blurred into darkness as they charged toward the falling AV, preparing to meet it the moment it would hit the ground. They were so close now, the fabled netrunner just within reach, waiting for them—waiting for V.

The AV was coming down. It was time to meet it, and whatever forces were prepared for them, at the crash site.