"Still not waking up," Neo muttered, pinching his cheek. It was rite by this point, checking if he was still in the Matrix or not.
It truly was a well-designed reality. The Machines can learn, and learn well they did. The intuition and attention to detail that was needed to discern the code was useless in this world. It was frighteningly consistent, even their "net".
Netrunning — an invisible yoke that further lulled humanity into thinking they were masters of their fate. After all, why would you think you're in the Matrix if you can manipulate code?
But it was still the main reason he pursued netrunning hard. It was a near-simulacrum of the Matrix, but if he can understand it he'll be able to understand this new reality better, especially when he learned of the Black Wall. Is it a trap? An information hub? The only exit out of this world?
One day, he'd break into that wall. Tear it down. He had to.
Neo gripped his skin, willing it to bleed.
This new world was shitty. People die easily and no one cared. Corporations rule over everything, and everyone was busy squabbling over personal disputes to launch a united effort, let alone wake up and confront the Machines.
But he couldn't blame them for that, not anymore. Couldn't care less.
Kid had died, his brother in this new reality. Kid was the same in both realities, trailing after him with faith that he can make everything better. Kid was also the only familiar face he had met in this new world, so of course Neo latched hard. Made accepting the fact that the rebellion failed and that everyone he loved had died, but possibly alive again elsewhere since the Machines loved recycling their batteries…
Neo felt like a bastard for letting Kid down twice.
Letting go of his skin, Neo washed his face and exited the bathroom. Slipping into his netrunning gear, Neo thought of his empty home. Sliding doors, glowing letters scrolling on the walls and furniture you can access remotely — this was a cyberpunk dream, everything the past Mr. Anderson in the fake late 1990s have heard from the passing comic bookshops. Back then, it sounded like the future.
Back then, he wouldn't have hurt a kid. Neo scowled as he watched a hacked feed. Arasaka Tower was difficult — for now — so he had to make do with piggybacking from different places, but at least he had the recording of his targets leaving the building.
The mom and daughter was alive. Hell, the purple-haired solo was alive.
He let himself to be reluctantly impressed before the determination rose up again. He'll need better plans, better Daemons, better skills.
But for a moment, the thought came: what was he doing? Trying to kill a family? And for what? Trinity would be so disappointed.
…It truly was an ugly and well-designed world. Just a few years in, and it had already warped Neo into a Night City native. Or maybe this was remnants of the code of being The Chosen One. Or maybe it was his plain selfishness.
But now, he had no one, and nothing to lose. Including himself.
I'm surprised no one has written a "Neo really has transmigrated into Cyberpunk" fic based from the current chapters. I honestly thought it'll be a few lines but then it ballooned into it's own thing. He's probably OC but he's been in this world for a while and he's still grieving for past Trinity and stuff and I'm sleep deprived lol