FOURTH_TIMER: 14%

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

CURRENT_STATUS: "The Program In My Head"

ENTRY_DATA:

She's watching you now. Not just looking—really seeing. Studying. Scanning every crack, every scar, every piece of what's left of you...to see if you can be put back together. You've had your own solutions to your problem in mind, but in her eyes? They might all be gonk ideas.

Her ideas though...they're lighting up in her head like a fireworks show, bright and promising. Her intelligence is nearly unrivalled by anyone you've ever come across before. You're in good hands.

You've gotta be.

Inside the confines of the tent, the only sound was the faint whir of Songbird's cyberware and V's own breaths.

The netrunner's personal link wire was connected to the port at the base of the merc's neck. Her glowing eyes remained fixed ahead, a cascade of data scrolling within them too fast for V to comprehend. She knelt close, perfectly still, reading through the diagnostic data being fed to her.

V shifted uneasily in his folding chair. He had done his best to stay calm, but the silence was really starting to gnaw at him. Her complete lack of expression or commentary made the whole situation feel so much more ominous. His fingers drummed against the chair's armrest before he caught himself, forcing his hands to rest in his lap.

"So…" he finally ventured, his voice finally breaking the silence. "What's the verdict, Doc? You've been poking around in there for a while now."

No response. Not even a glance. Songbird's lips were slightly parted, her breathing shallow, entirely focused on the flood of information. V frowned, his patience slipping another notch.

"C'mon, give me something. Is it good news? Bad? Don't leave me hanging here."

Songbird finally reacted, her eyes beginning to widen and her lips parting slightly, and she leaned back ever so carefully, keeping the tension in the personal link taut but not strained. Her head shook slowly, disbelief written across her face.

"Holy crap…" she whispered.

V's stomach churned. "W-What? What're you seeing…?"

She took a moment, steadying herself before meeting his gaze, her eyes still glowing with data. "I can see it…the Relic. The worst thing I've ever helped to make…but even still…I-I don't even recognise it anymore, V."

V's fists clenched, his knuckles whitening. "Huh?"

Songbird's glowing optics flickered as she parsed through another wave of data. "This isn't a biochip…this…this is a part of your brain. It's replacing damaged tissue, not just imprinting itself into your neural pathways, but…rewriting them, piece by piece. Where…did this damage even come from…?"

The merc grumbled, closing his eyes.

"Got a fixer to thank for that. Dexter DeShawn. Real fucking prick. Thought he could tie up loose ends with a bullet to the head after everything got fucked at Konpeki Plaza. Figured I was dead." he snorted bitterly. "Guess he wasn't wrong. The Relic brought me back, but not without strings attached. Now it's killing me."

Songbird froze mid-scan, her glowing eyes wide as the words sank in, the skepticism etched clearly on her face.

"Wait…" she murmured, almost to herself. "You—you took a bullet. And the Relic…revived you?"

"Basically, yeah." V said dryly, though his gaze hardened. "You're acting like this is news to you. Didn't you help build the damn thing?"

Songbird flinched, pulling back a bit more, her eyes darted away and her words tinged with a defensive unease.

"Y-Yeah, I…I had a hand in its design. But not this." she gestured faintly towards his head. "We never intended the biochip to be used this way! This is…completely uncharted territory."

Songbird could tell by the increasingly tense look on V's face that he was only growing more confused by her explanations. She lowered her head, breathed in slowly, and prepared to start from the beginning.

"Okay." she began, exhaling sharply. "Listen, the Relic program was split into two major projects—two distinct versions." she held up a finger. "Relic 1.0. That was the first series. It…well, let's call it a proof of concept. I was never a part of it. Its main purpose was to create engrams capable of basic communication. For the rich, it was marketed as a means of achieving immortality, at least in a way. It stores a rather…rudimentary copy of their psyche. The engram could communicate with loved ones, act relatively like the original, but it wasn't self-aware. It was just…a limited echo that you could playback."

V crossed his arms over his chest. "That's the one that made it to market, right? Secure your soul and all that shit."

"That's right." Songbird confirmed, nodding. "But what Arasaka didn't advertise was the real purpose behind it. They were using Soulkiller to harvest engrams of…so many people—celebrities, cultural icons, artists, you name it. Imagine a pop star whose music never stops releasing, or an actor who stars in new movies centuries after their body's gone. Arasaka would legally own replicas of everyone and anyone who matters…the commercial profits would speak for themselves."

"Fuck…" V muttered darkly.

"But then…" the netrunner continued, holding up a second finger. "There was Relic 2.0. That's the one I worked on…and the one that's stuck in your head. This one was for internal use only…and was never intended to be released to the public. It was commissioned and overseen by…the Emperor—Saburo Arasaka…personally."

V's eyebrows rose slightly, but he stayed silent, an image of the stoic, imposing Emperor's face flashing in his mind through his memories of Konpeki Plaza.

"Relic 2.0's goal wasn't preservation. It was…replacement. The system was designed to implant the digitised psyche—an engram—into a new organic host. The engram was meant to fully integrate, no limitations, and overwrite the host's consciousness. That's what I mean when I say this is uncharted territory, V. We expected the host would be…cleared first. Neural and cardiac functions terminated. Neurologically…indifferent."

"You mean…dead." V finished grimly.

But before the merc could press further, a gravelly voice broke the tense silence.

"Fucking fascinating…but you're stalling."

V's head whipped around, his gaze landing on a mechanical hand resting on the back of his chair. He followed the familiar chrome to its source, and there he was—Johnny Silverhand, standing casually by his side. The merc's surprise quickly melted into relief, his lips curving into a half-smile.

"Johnny! You're back..." V said.

Songbird's weak smile resurfaced as she tilted her head slightly. "I told you, I didn't remove him or send him away. I just put him in timeout. And it looks like…time's up."

Johnny's digital visage flickered. His expression was stoic, unreadable behind his trademark shades, but there was a brief nod exchanged between him and V. No words were needed; the moment carried an unspoken understanding—a weird, begrudging relief to see each other again.

"Sorry…" Songbird whispered. She shifted slightly, careful not to disrupt the personal link still connected between her and V. "I'm sure you heard me, Johnny, but I know that muting you was…going too far. I—"

"Leave it." Johnny interjected sharply, his voice like gravel scraping against steel. He leaned against the back of V's folding chair. "We can hash that out later. Right now, just tell us what you're seeing in V's head."

V watched Johnny closely, catching the tight set of his jaw and the simmering anger barely contained behind his mirrored shades. The merc could hear the rockerboy's teeth grinding, but he kept silent. Johnny was right—this was not the time.

Songbird hesitated, but spoke. "What I'm seeing…it's complicated. And not in a good way."

"Try me." V said, his tone firm.

"Alright…" Songbird said, steeling herself. "I'm…seeing it—in real time. The Relic is using nanotechnology to merge Johnny's engram with your brain, but it's not just coexisting. It's systematically replacing parts of your neural structure. Every time you wake up, every second you breathe, it's rewriting you, V."

Johnny folded his arms, his jaw tightening further. "We've heard that song before. Can you remove it?"

"Remove it…" Songbird repeated quietly.

The netrunner glanced down, her glowing optics dimming slightly as though she were deep in thought.

"Well, ever since you agreed to get me out of Kang Tao, I've been considering different possibilities." she said finally, her voice steady but somber. "Three—to be exact. But obviously…I had to see your condition up close to know if any of them were even remotely viable."

Johnny and V both leaned forward, their attention fixed on her. V's voice was low, mired by dread. "And? Are they?"

Songbird hesitated, her mechanical fingers twitching slightly as though searching for the right words. "The first solution I had in mind…is, well, straightforward surgery. Not from some back alley ripperdoc, mind you, but an actual team of proper surgeons in a legitimate medical facility."

V's expression darkened, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Yeah…someone's already offered me that."

Songbird blinked, surprised. "Really? Who?"

V chuckled dryly."Hanako Arasaka—if you can believe it."

Songbird's entire body stiffened. "You've been talking…to Hanako Arasaka?"

V nodded slowly. "Yeah—long story." He hesitated, his lips tightening as though tempted to tell her more about Hanako's offer, and how the woman asked for help with Yorinobu Arasaka in return. Instead, he waved it off. "I'll tell you more later…maybe."

"Lady Hanako…" the netrunner murmured under her breath, her tone unreadable.

"She seemed pretty damn confident." V continued, breaking the silence. "Said her top surgeons could yank this thing out and fix me. All I gotta do for her is—" he stopped himself again, shaking his head. "Point is, she might've just been trying to get me on board, but she seemed sure."

From his perch beside V, Johnny gave an audible scoff, unsurprisingly disgusting any time the option to accept Arasaka's help was brought up. V rolled his eyes but ignored the jab.

Instead, he continued to focus on Songbird. "Well? What do you think? Could the right surgeons really take this damn thing out…without flatlining me?"

Songbird hesitated. She tilted her head to one side, weighing her words. "Before I can answer that…there's something else I'll need to tell you—the second solution I had in mind."

"Uh…alright."

Songbird straightened up slightly. "I've also tried looking at this from more than just a medical angle, since your condition isn't just physical, V. It's...digital, too. Your psyche and Johnny's are intertwined, fused together at a level that's...complicated. But theoretically…they could be untangled."

Johnny raised an eyebrow, his arms still crossed. "What do you have in mind?"

Songbird's lips pressed into a thin line before she continued. "I know this will sound crazy, but if you...became an engram like Johnny…if your psyche was digitised, it might be possible to separate the two of you. Untangle the web that's mixing you and Johnny together, if that makes sense. Once isolated, Johnny's engram could be removed…and your engram could be implanted back into your body. You wouldn't be removing the Relic from your body…but you would be the one and only psyche present in your own body again, like things should be. No more overwriting, no more of your thoughts melding with someone else's. You would be, well…you again. Nobody else."

V and Johnny looked at each other again.

Once again, Songbird was suggesting an option that was already on the table. Reaching Mikoshi, using Soulkiller, and splitting their personalities was a method that the AI resembling Alt Cunningham had offered.

The merc could tell by the gleam in the rockerboy's eyes that he did not want to reveal Alt—not yet, and especially not to a woman that they still did not know well. Even if it was remarkable that Songbird, with such little time, had managed to conceive the same plan that an AI from beyond the Blackwall had done, Alt's continued existence still needed to be a secret to most.

He would have to keep that part to himself.

"Yeah…" V started, treading carefully with his words. "Been in contact with another netrunner, actually…they've already offered to do something like that for me."

Songbird blinked, surprised. "A netrunner?"

V nodded slowly, choosing his words carefully. "Yeah. One with access to...Soulkiller. The idea was the same—turn me into an engram, untangle our brains, and then...maybe put me back together."

Songbird's eyes widened slightly as she absorbed that information. "Soulkiller…" she murmured. "You mean, you've been considering reaching Mikoshi? Huh…so, two of the solutions I've thought of…they're already old news to you."

"Haven't just been sitting around while I'm dying, Songbird." the merc groaned deeply, shaking his head. "Course…Hanako ain't gonna let me do whatever I want down at Mikoshi, even if I accept her terms, which won't work with the, uh…netrunner with Soulkiller. It's one or the other."

V clasped his hands together and continued. "So…what do you think?" he asked quietly. "Do they give me a good chance? Going along with what Hanako wants…or working with this 'netrunner' I know…it's best I've got lined up after everything I've done."

Songbird said nothing at first, her glowing eyes scanning his diagnostics still scrolling across her vision. The tent had fallen silent for a moment, the tension greater and more tangible than ever.

Finally, Songbird sighed. She gently removed the personal link from the port at the base of the merc's neck. Her face had become unreadable, caught somewhere between thoughtfulness and resignation.

"I can save you a lot of time and effort, V." she said softly.

"W-What?"

Songbird stared at him dead in the eyes, her expression now mostly stoic, nothing detectable behind her eyes.

"I think…neither method will work." she whispered.

Judy Álvarez lay sprawled on an old, beaten-up mattress in the corner of a tent within the Aldecaldos' sprawling camp. The mattress, uneven and lumpy, scratched at her back through the thin fabric of her shirt, and the cold desert air bit at her skin. But none of these discomforts were the reason sleep eluded her.

Her eyes flicked upward to the patchy canvas ceiling, then drifted to the right, where the tent's only bed stood. Panam Palmer laid there, her back turned to Judy, one arm draped over the edge of the bed. She had not stirred in what felt like hours. Judy assumed she was fast asleep. Not that it mattered—they had not exchanged more than a few glances since being paired to share the tent. With so many nomads and visitors and only a couple of tents, it could not be avoided.

Judy sighed and rolled onto her side, her arm tucked under her head. The fabric of the mattress—scratchy, stiff—made her grimace. The Aldecaldos were obviously not living in luxury out here, and she had not expected five-star accommodations, but she would have killed for something less itchy and a little warmer.

But all of it was secondary to the thoughts racing through her mind. The confused feelings, the conflicting emotions, the question of why she was still here when her plans were to leave Night City all behind her.

Judy tried to shut it all out, guilt eating into her stomach. She stared at the back of Panam's head. The nomad was a bit of an enigma to her. A hothead, sure, but Judy had not spent nearly enough time around her to form any solid opinion. The Aldecaldo had stormed into the tent earlier, muttering under her breath about something—or someone—before taking a long pull from a bottle of something strong and collapsing onto the bed without so much as a goodnight.

Typical nomad, Judy thought, though she was not sure if she meant it as a compliment or an insult.

Panam shifted slightly in her sleep, her arm pulling closer to her body, and Judy's gaze darted away. She felt ridiculous, lying there in the dark, trying to piece together a stranger's personality based on a few hours of shared space—especially when she was supposed to be fast asleep.

That was when she heard a quiet voice whisper to her.

"You're still awake too, huh?" Panam's voice was low and rough, like she was pulling the words out reluctantly.

Judy's gaze darted back to the back of Panam's head, surprised by the sudden acknowledgment.

Caught off guard, she blinked and hesitated before answering. "Uh, yeah. Guess I am. Did…Did I keep you up?" Her voice was barely louder than Panam's, and she quickly added. "Sorry if I did."

Panam groaned softly and shook her head, the motion just barely visible in the dim light "No. Not you."

The nomad shifted under her blanket, then let out a long sigh before pushing it off completely, the fabric rustling as she sat up.

Judy watched as Panam rubbed her eyes with the heel of one hand, the other groping blindly around the bed until it found the hard, familiar shape of a bottle. Without a word, Panam picked it up, uncorked it with a flick of her thumb, and brought it to her lips. She tilted her head back and began drinking.

Judy's eyes widened as she watched Panam chug the liquor. The nomad did not stop until the liquid inside was almost gone, the faint sound of it sloshing marking the bottle's near-emptiness. Panam finally pulled the bottle away with a small gasp, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Woah." Judy muttered.

Panam stared at the bottle in her hand for a long moment before mumbling, "It's her fault I can't sleep, you know. The netrunner we've just pulled."

Judy pushed herself up slightly on her elbows. "Songbird?"

Panam nodded, her gaze still fixed on the bottle. "Can't stop thinking about her. About all of it. I mean, V explained the whole thing to me before…about the chip, the engram, Johnny Silverhand…" She let out a small, bitter laugh. "An old rockerboy's ghost haunting him while the chip's sapping the life outta him. Sounds like some bad preem-time holo, doesn't it?"

Judy struggled to respond, but Panam did not seem to need a response.

"I could barely believe any of it." Panam admitted softly, finally tearing her eyes away from the bottle and looking ahead into the dark. "V showed up when I was…god, when I was at my lowest. I was this close—this fucking close—to leaving the Aldecaldos. Thought I'd never figure out what the hell I was doing with my life. Then…he showed up."

Judy watched silently, the sadness in Panam's voice making her chest tighten.

"And now he's dying. Dying because of this goddamn chip. And I can't…" Panam's voice wavered before she steadied herself. "I can't imagine losing him. I just can't."

She chuckled dryly, but there was no humor in it. "I've got half a mind to march right into that netrunner's tent, grab her by the shoulders, and shake her so hard that she finally opens her eyes—to know if any of this can be fixed. But no…" She trailed off, her voice dropping to a near whisper. "No, I can't. I have to wait—I've gotta. Just until morning. Just…until then."

Panam fell silent, her hand gripping the neck of the bottle tightly. Judy stared at her, feeling a pang of sympathy she had not expected. For a moment, she considered saying something comforting, but the words would not really come out. Instead, she lay back down on the mattress, the cold desert air pressing in around her.

Panam spoke again. "So…why are you still awake?"

Judy kept her gaze fixed on the ceiling, her lips twitching into a faint scowl. "It's…complicated." she muttered.

The nomad scoffed. "Classic way to dodge a question."

"Sorry, I just—" Judy stumbled through her words. She exhaled deeply, trying to ease the tension she had created. "Tell me, what's it really like?"

Panam's brow furrowed as she glanced at Judy, confused. "What's what really like?"

"Being an Aldecaldo. The nomad life." Judy clarified, turning her head slightly to catch Panam's reaction. "Been in Night City so long…kinda forgotten what life is like outside that hellhole. I hear talk about you nomads, even the Aldecaldos…but they're probably all bullshit."

Panam blinked, taken aback. It certainly was not often someone asked her to explain the life she had grown up with. She shifted, leaning back against the thin tent wall, the bottle still cradled in her hand.

"Huh. Never really had to describe it." She paused, rubbing the back of her neck, and then her voice softened. "It's…chaotic. Loud. Everyone's always in your business, always got an opinion about what you're doing. If you're lucky, it's to help. If not…" She smirked faintly. "Well, you learn to argue real fast."

Judy turned her head slightly, watching Panam as she continued.

"But it's also…" Panam trailed off. "...you're never alone. Doesn't matter how much you screw up, someone's always there to drag your sorry ass back up. And when you're out there, on the road, with nothing but the convoy around you…" She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "Feels like the whole world's yours. Like nothing else matters. Just the people with you and the miles ahead."

Judy's mouth opened but no words came out just yet.

To her, it sounded like freedom—raw, untamed, and completely out of reach in the world she knew. But she could hear the weight in Panam's voice too, the responsibility and the bonds that kept her tied to the Aldecaldos.

"Sounds...different." was all the techie could eventually muster up.

"But it's not easy. You're always moving, always working to survive." Panam quickly added. "Food, fuel, gear—nothing comes for free out here. The desert doesn't care about you. But it doesn't hate you either. It's just…there. Makes everything we do feel earned—and we do earn everything we've got, tooth and nail if we have to. Otherwise, we're fucked."

Judy strangely found herself smiling. "Guess that's one thing Night City and the desert have in common. Both'll chew you up if you're not tough enough."

"Hah! Guess so." Panam said, a smirk audible in her voice. "Even out here, close as we are to that hellhole, we still have to deal with the city's bullshit. Supplies, gigs, threats—it all bleeds out here eventually."

Judy chuckled softly. "Figures. Night City never really lets anyone go."

For a moment, there was silence between them, the stillness of the desert night pressing in. Judy found herself stealing another glance at Panam. She had not expected to get along with her, but there was something oddly refreshing about the nomad's bluntness, her ability to still smile in the middle of all this.

Panam broke the quiet with a curious question. "So, you part of the Mox?"

The words caught Judy off guard. She hesitated, her fingers lightly tracing a frayed edge of the mattress. "Used…to be." she admitted, her voice tinged with a faint, distant pain. "How'd you know?"

Panam shrugged. "Lucky guess—but you kinda have the look, you know? Like you'd fit right in with them."

Judy let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, well…looks can be deceiving. Things didn't really work out."

Panam's voice softened. "Didn't work out how?"

"It just didn't." Judy almost snapped, horrifying, repressed memories almost surfacing. The techie looked downwards, staring at nothing. "Same old story in that fucking city…everything fell apart."

Panam tilted her head slightly, her brows knitting together as Judy.

Judy continued unprompted. "I was supposed to leave." she began, her voice quieter now, almost like she was confessing to herself. "Pack my bags, get the hell out. Thought about going to Oregon, maybe even looking up my grandparents. Just...forget Night City—all of it, start fresh somewhere far away."

The nomad stayed still, listening intently, her eyes on Judy even as the techie stared downward, her mind clearly miles away.

"But I didn't." Judy kept going, a bitter edge creeping into her tone. "Every damn day, I told myself I'd go tomorrow, I'd pack everything tomorrow. And then tomorrow came, and I'd push it back again. Again and again. No idea why." She clenched her jaw, shaking her head. "I could've gone. I should've gone."

Her voice cracked slightly as she added. "And then...V showed up." Judy rubbed at her temple, frustration clear in her movements. "Comes waltzing into my place, asking me to help him save his life. And...I couldn't say no. I just couldn't."

Panam watched her, her expression unreadable.

Judy groaned, raking a hand through her hair. "What the hell is wrong with me…"

Panam finally responded. "Look—" she began, her elbows resting on her knees. "I don't know what kind of shit you've been through. I get what Night City is like—trust me, I get it. Hell, it almost got me, too."

Judy watched as Panam settled down the bottle back on the bed.

"But here's the thing." Panam continued, her eyes locking onto Judy's. "If you're not fully in this—if you're not ready to see it through, no matter how messy it gets—you should leave. Now. Because saving V's life? It's not gonna be easy. It's not gonna be clean. And it sure as hell isn't gonna come without consequences."

Judy sat up slightly, surprised by the sudden shift in Panam's demeanor.

"We're shitting in Arasaka's lawn." Panam said, her voice lowering but no less intense. "Kang Tao's, too. Maybe more, depending on how things shake out. They won't let this slide. There'll be retaliation—big-time. If you're not ready for that, if there's even a shred of doubt in your mind, you shouldn't stick with us."

The tent fell silent for a moment, the weight of Panam's words hanging heavy in the air.

"Because V means a lot to me." she added, her voice quieter now, though no less resolute. "More than I know how to explain. And if anyone—anyone—puts his life in danger or gets him killed because they weren't committed enough…" a dangerous underlying fury seeped into her words. "I'll never forgive them. Ever."

For a moment, the two women stared at each other, the tension in the dimly lit tent thick enough to cut with a knife. Judy's thoughts drifted to what Carol had said to her just hours earlier, also claiming that the best choice for her would be to leave.

Hearing it from Carol had stung, but now, hearing the same sentiment from Panam—someone who barely knew her—cut even deeper. They were validating the voice in her head, the one that whispered she should leave it all behind, escape the chaos and pain of Night City once and for all.

And yet, no matter how much she wanted to agree, there was something she could not ignore.

Her mind replayed every moment with V. How he had stood by her through what happened to Evelyn, how he had risked everything to help her in their doomed attempt to free the Mox, how he did not leave her side when it all came crashing down. No one else had ever done that for her—not Evelyn, not the Mox, not anyone.

V was the reason.

That was it. The truth she had been too scared to face. The reason she kept failing to leave Night City, the reason she could not pack her bags and never look back, no matter how much she told herself she wanted to. V was her unfinished business.

She swallowed hard, meeting Panam's eyes once more. "I'm not going anywhere." she said, her voice steady and firm. "I'm committed. All the way. I'm going to save his life, because…" She hesitated, her heart pounding. "Because V means a lot to me too."

Panam watched her for a moment. Then, slowly, a grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. It was not smug or triumphant—it was warm, almost relieved.

The nomad said nothing. She only nodded her approval.

Judy let out a small breath, surprised by how much lighter she felt. The two women did noy say anything else after that, but the silence inside the tent was no longer tense. It was…comforting.

Panam stretched out on her bed, turning to face the tent wall again, and Judy finally lay back down on the mattress. The desert air was still cold, and the surface beneath her was still itchy,

But for the first time that night, it looked like Judy was going to get some sleep.

"What the hell do you mean they won't work?" V demanded, his voice sharper than he intended.

Songbird's gaze did not waver. "I'll explain." she said calmly, folding her hands in her lap. "Just…bear with me."

V exhaled heavily, trying his best to keep it together.

"Let's…start with the surgery." Songbird began. "Removing the Relic won't suddenly fix everything. The risks don't end when they pull the chip out. They're only just beginning."

"What…risks are we talking about, here?" V asked.

"Well, I'd guess…hallucinations?" Songbird listed off. "Loss of sense of self. Inability to perceive time or location accurately. Incoherent synesthesia—your brain interpreting sound as color, or touch as taste—I don't know, I'm just listing the most likely risks off the top of my head. There are probably more."

V frowned. "What the fuck…why?"

"Because, like I said, removing the biochip won't actually fix the problem." she replied, leaning forward slightly. Her tone remained calm, but there was an undercurrent of urgency now. "Think about it. That chip's been in your head for ages. It hasn't just sat there, dormant. It's been actively influencing your brain. Neural pathways have been rewritten. Your entire cognitive structure—memories, instincts, personality—has been reshaped to accommodate it. I told you, it's literally part of your brain now."

V's stomach churned. "So, what? I'm supposed to just leave the fucking thing in? Let it keep doing what it's doing?"

"Obviously I'm not saying that." Songbird said quickly. "But you need to understand the reality. How would a surgeon even go about removing the biochip? How much of your brain do they carve away? How much of it has already been…infected by Johnny's psyche? At this point…where does 'V' begin and 'Johnny' end?"

V's jaw tightened. The word infected sent a strange chill down his spine, but he did not interrupt.

Songbird continued, her voice soft but firm. "And let's not forget who we're talking about here. Arasaka's surgeons wouldn't care about preserving 'V'. You'd be a test subject to them, not a patient. A first-case study, an experiment in untangling two psyches. If you're lucky, they might actually be capable of removing the biochip without killing you…but you would never be the same."

While V was reeling from the information, Johnny was not deterred in the slightest.

"Good—already been telling this guy how fucking stupid that option is for ages." Johnny drawled to the netrunner. "But what the hell is the problem with using Soulkiller?"

V did not say anything, but Johnny's question hung in the air like a challenge. Songbird's gaze flickered briefly to V's face before she sighed, leaning back on her elbows.

"Soulkiller doesn't fix the underlying problem." she claimed, her voice taking on a clinical sharpness. "It only addresses half of the issue—and not even the half that's killing you."

Johnny did not look even remotely pleased. "Fucking explain."

Songbird did not miss a beat. "When this 'netrunner' you've been working with promises to 'untangle' the two of you, they mean separating your psyches digitally, in the construct. Maybe they're good—hell, they'd have to be to even try something like this…but their method completely ignores the physical damage the Relic has done to your body. And that damage can't be ignored, V. No amount of digital untangling or engram manipulation can fix it."

The woman brushed a few fallen strands of hair out of her face and continued. "Your DNA, your cells, your neurons, it's all been altered by the Relic. It's not just that Johnny's engram has tangled with yours. It's that the biochip has rewritten your biology to accommodate him. Your body is rejecting itself now because of those changes. Even if this netrunner successfully separates you from Johnny and puts you back into your body, the damage will still be there."

V blinked, his hands curling into fists. "Even if I get Johnny out of my thoughts…I'll…die anyway?"

"Yes. At least, I think so." Songbird lamented. "Even if you're no longer sharing your mind with Johnny, your body wouldn't suddenly start working properly again. It can't. The Relic's changes are too deeply embedded. You might buy yourself…I don't know…a couple of months, tops, but eventually—"

Johnny's voice cut her off, sharper now. "You think our netrunner's wrong? That she missed all of this? Fucking bullshit."

"Hm? 'She'…?" Songbird briefly questioned, her eyes narrowing a bit, but she moved on. "It's…not about being wrong or right. Whoever this person is, she's obviously focused on the digital side of things, not the biology. And that's the flaw in her plan. Separating your psyches doesn't solve the damage already done to your body. It doesn't matter if the biochip doesn't have an engram to replace V's psyche with…it'll keep rejecting him anyway—and he'll die. You wanted my opinion? There it is."

Johnny fell silent at that.

He leaned back, a heavy grunt escaping him as he shook his head. His usual sharp tongue and biting sarcasm were suddenly lost, the weight of Songbird's words pinning him into an uncomfortable silence.

For all the faith he had placed in Alt, for all the time he had thought of her as infallible, he could not ignore the truth of the matter.

Alt was brilliant, just as she had been in life, but she was no longer…human. Whatever connection she had to flesh and blood, to the fragile mortality of real life, had been stripped away a long time ago.

When she proposed her solution, she very well may have been looking at V not as a human in need of a cure, but a program in need of mending.

Johnny could not deny the possibility that Alt may have missed something crucial.

V's face had become a storm of emotion—frustration, fear, and doubt warring within him as he sat rigidly on the edge of his seat. He did not even notice Songbird moving closer until her hand gently rested on top of his. The unexpected warmth surprised him; even though most of her hand was mechanical…the warmth was unmistakably there.

"Hey, hey…" Songbird said gently. "Relax. I said I'd fix this, okay? I meant that."

"How, though?" V responded. His voice was rough, a little desperate. "You just tore apart both plans I've been counting on…what else have we got?"

Songbird squeezed the merc's hand a bit, her expression serious but not unkind. "I told you, in the time I've had, I came up with three possible solutions to your condition. The last one…well—I considered it a final option. A last resort. Only if it turned out your condition had deteriorated worse than I thought." She gestured vaguely at him, her meaning clear. "Which it has."

V straightened. "What've…you got in mind?"

Johnny perked up again as well, listening in close.

Songbird contemplated for a moment. Then she sighed, her fingers tightening slightly over V's hand. "There's…something out there—something old, and classified like you wouldn't believe. It'll take me a long time to explain how I even learnt it exists…" she started, her tone cautious. "But the short version? In the right hands, it can do both, V. Deal with your problem on the physical…and digital front. That's how we're going to fix this."

V heart nearly skipped a beat at the claim, but he narrowed his eyes. "A-And the catch?"

Songbird gave a half-smile, though it did not reach her eyes. "The catch is…I have absolutely no idea where it is, or how we'd get our hands on it. But if we did…"

The digital image of the rockerboy grew agitated, tapping his foot angrily on the ground.

"What's it fucking called?"

Songbird turned her gaze from Johnny to V.

"The Neural Matrix." she whispered.

V blinked blankly, the name unfamiliar to him. "The…Neural Matrix…?" he repeated slowly, the syllables foreign as they rolled off his tongue.

Johnny, arms crossed, mouthed the name silently, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. It was clear that he had never heard the name either.

Songbird opened her mouth, ready to explain it in detail. "It's—" She stopped mid-sentence, her eyelids fluttering. Her posture wavered, her head lolling slightly to the side.

V leaned forward, his voice rising with concern. "Woah—hey! What's wrong?!"

Songbird grimaced, her hand weakly reaching out for balance. "D..izzy…" she murmured, her voice barely audible. She shuffled uncomfortably on the bed, her movements suddenly sluggish and terribly weakened.

"Shit…here—lie down." V urged firmly, gritting his teeth.

Without protest, Songbird collapsed onto the bed, her hand instinctively pulling at the nearest pillow. Her eyelids drooped as she fought to stay conscious, her voice fading to a whisper. "I'll tell you…rest in the morning…"

Johnny let out a low grunt, shaking his head. "Fucking great. Just when we're getting somewhere." His tone was sharp as he studied the netrunner's face. "Guess she's still running on fumes."

V sighed, watching as Songbird's breathing evened out and her body went completely limp. She was out cold.

"Fuck." V muttered under his breath, frustrated but resigned. Gently, he adjusted her position, pushing her onto the bed properly and pulling a thin blanket over her. The small cot creaked beneath her, but she did not stir.

Johnny stood silent for a moment, his holographic form flickering faintly. "Least we've got something." he said, almost to himself. "The…Neural Matrix, huh?"

V nodded, the name echoing in his mind. It was not much, but he was certain he would hear more soon. He rose from his seat, sparing one last glance at Songbird's unconscious form before stepping out of the tent.

The cool night air greeted him as he exhaled deeply, his mind racing. Tomorrow could not come soon enough.