The room is dim, the hum of high-end cyberware filling the tense silence. Aurore and Aymeric are kneeling before Reed and Alex, their hands bound, defeat evident in their microexpressions - barely noticeable, but your Kiroshi optics don't miss a thing.
Reed's grip on his Militech Omaha is steady, his face as unreadable as ever. Alex leans against the metal console, her usual smirk gone. No quips. No sarcasm. Just cold professionalism.
Aymeric exhales, looking between you and Reed. "You know this isn't justice. You're just wiping loose ends!"
Aurore, ever the strategist, locks eyes with you. "V? I thought we had something the other night. Did we not?" She looked to Reed, tears starting to form in her eyes. "Please there's no need to kill us. Is this about that netrunner?"
Songbird...
You think back to the conversations, the quiet moments between the chaos. She's more than just a rogue A.I. specialist or some asset for the NUSA. There's something in her voice - something real, something more. And maybe, just maybe, you're starting to see a different path through this.
Reed cocks his gun. "Enough talking."
Alex pushes off the console. "V? You got anything to add before we finish this?"
The moment Reed tightens his grip on the Omaha, you act - a subtle flick of your neural interface, a whispered command through your cyberdeck - Weapons Glitch.
The program executes in 0.3 seconds - faster than a breath. You don't even need to look at Reed's gun to know it's dead weight now. His finger tenses on the trigger, but instead of a burst of gunfire, the gun emits a soft click. Nothing.
Reed's eyes narrow. In that fraction of a second, before anyone can react, you see the pieces shifting.
Alex notices first. "Shit - " she hisses, reaching for her own piece.
Aurore and Aymeric move. They're corpos, but they're not stupid. They recognize the opening, the sliver of time where survival is possible.
Songbird's voice crackles in your comms. "V? What the hell are you doing?"
You have less than a second before all hell breaks loose.
Your deck hums as you force it past its limits. Your vision blurs at the edges, synapses burning as you push System Collapse onto Alex - then Reed, back-to-back.
Alex is mid-pull on the trigger. You're not sure if the quickhack will fry her before she fires on Aymeric, but there's no turning back.
The first System Collapse detonates in her nervous system like a digital grenade. Her body locks up, limbs twitching violently as cyberware fails and neural pathways overload.
BANG.
The shot fires.
Aurore flinches. Aymeric lets out a strangled grunt - hit, but not down. Blood spreads across his right side, but he's still alive.
You whip back to Reed. The second System Collapse is already sinking into his cyberware. Your skull feels like it's imploding - burning through your last available RAM is sending electric agony through your nerves. But you watch as Reed stumbles, his augmented muscles spasming, the chrome in his arms locking up as his biomonitor floods with red alerts.
For the first time, you see something flicker in his expression - surprise.
But Reed is Reed. Even as his body rebels against him, he fights through it, jaw clenched, rage burning behind his cybernetic optics. He's moving, trying to push past the malfunction. You know he won't stay down for long.
Your knees nearly give out as the neural backlash crashes over you, hot knives slicing through your skull. A sharp ringing fills your ears, drowning out Songbird's voice in your comms.
You can barely focus, but you need to act.
Your body screams in protest as you push through the neural backlash, but you don't have time to stop.
Reed's gun is still in his grip, but his movements are sluggish - his muscles misfiring from the System Collapse. You drive your boot into his wrist, feeling the sharp crack of metal against metal as the Omaha clatters to the ground.
Before he can react, you send another command through your cyberdeck - Reboot Optics.
A forced restart of his visual cyberware.
His optics flicker, static crawling across his retinas as his vision hard resets. Reed grunts, staggering back, hand instinctively going to his face as the world goes dark for him.
That'll buy you a few seconds.
You turn your attention to Aymeric. He's clutching his upper arm, blood soaking into the fabric of his suit. Not an immediate kill shot, but still bad enough to slow him down. His breathing is shallow, eyes darting to you with suspicion and confusion.
Aurore is already at his side, working fast to apply pressure. She doesn't say anything, but the look she gives you is a mix of calculation and - maybe - something like gratitude.
In your ear, Songbird's voice finally cuts through the ringing in your skull.
"V - damn it! You're going off-script. Reed's not gonna let this go. You need to move - now ."
You glance at Reed. He's already pushing through the pain, blindly reaching for his second weapon. His recovery time is faster than you'd like.
Alex is still twitching on the floor, barely conscious, her cyberware fried from the quickhack.
Your body is already screaming at you, but you don't stop.
You push your cyberdeck past its limits, force-feeding it power you don't have. The neural backlash feels like hot needles stabbing straight into your brain, but you grit your teeth and launch Cyberware Malfunction at Reed.
Your HUD flickers, warning icons flashing red - Critical Overload.
Pain detonates through your skull as the quickhack takes hold.
Reed jerks like a puppet with its strings cut. His cyberware - his augmentations, his Military-grade muscle enhancements fail all at once. You watch as his arm seizes mid-motion, servos locking up, tendons spasming against unresponsive chrome. He stumbles, barely staying upright, jaw clenched in frustration.
That's all you need.
You tap your comms, voice sharp despite the pounding in your skull.
"Yeah, I'm fuckin' aware, but they were about to execute these two. That's not how I operate, Song. Just help us get out of this mess, and we'll get to you."
There's silence on the other end.
For a moment, you think she's gonna leave you hanging.
Then-
"...Shit." A pause. Then, more urgently- "Fine. I'm sending you a route - fastest way out. But Reed won't stay down forever. Move."
Aurore is already helping Aymeric up, supporting his weight. Alex is still twitching, barely conscious but alive. Reed, despite everything, is already trying to fight through the malfunction.
Your Kiroshi optics light up with an AR overlay - Songbird's exit route, flashing red down the hallway.
No time to think. Just move.
Aymeric groans as you pull him up, his legs unsteady beneath him. Aurore keeps him upright, her grip steady despite the chaos. Blood drips from his wound, but he's conscious, alive - more than can be said for a lot of people in Dogtown.
"Both of you follow me, or they're going to kill you. We talk once we're safe - and we're far from it right now."
No argument. They move.
Your breath is ragged as you push forward, boots slamming against the metal flooring. The hallway ahead is dimly lit, flickering lights barely cutting through the shadows. Songbird's route glows red in your Kiroshis, pointing toward the exit, but your brain still feels like it's on fire - too many quickhacks, too much RAM overclocked.
Behind you, Reed is already recovering. You don't look back, but you hear it - the sound of a man who doesn't go down easy.
You push harder.
Dogtown's air hits you like a slap - hot, thick with smoke and the stench of burned-out tech. The moment you break out onto the streets, you're swallowed by the chaos. This district never sleeps, never stops. Fires burn in oil drums. Boosters prowl in the alleys. The skeletal remains of unfinished megabuildings loom overhead like broken gods.
You keep moving, pulling Aymeric and Aurore along, scanning for threats - Gangs? Agents? Barghest? All of the above?
Songbird's voice crackles in your ear again.
"V, you need to move fast. Reed's gonna have the place locked down in minutes."
"We'll try to get out of Dogtown. Should be harder for NUSA to follow us when there's NCPD and MaxTac around, and Alex isn't familiar with anywhere outside Dogtown."
A pause.
"And thanks, Song. I know what you're risking for this."
For a second, there's only silence.
Then, her voice - quieter, softer.
"...Just don't make me regret it."
Aurore tugs on your arm, eyes scanning the streets. "We need a way out. Now."
Dogtown is a labyrinth, a trap. Every route is dangerous.
You tap into your comms, forcing your deck to cooperate despite the pain still thrumming in your skull. The line crackles before a familiar voice picks up, sharp with suspicion.
"V? What's going on?"
"Need an evac. Fast. You near Dogtown?"
A pause. You hear the faint roar of an engine, the sounds of the Aldecados in the background.
"...Shit. You're in Dogtown? What did you do this time?"
"Long story. Think you can swing past the gates? We can knock out enough of Barghest's tech to make a hole - just need someone on the outside to get us through."
A beat.
Then - "You really know how to ask for favors, V. This ain't a simple pickup."
"Panam - please."
Another pause, then a sigh.
"Fine. But you owe me. I mean it."
"Add it to my tab."
"I already have. Be there in five - find me a way in, I'm bringing the big guns."
The call cuts, and you push forward, still following Songbird's path.
"Song, we've got a ride coming. I need you to find me a way to open those gates long enough for us to punch through."
Her reply is instant. "Already on it. Barghest has auto-turrets, drones, biometric scans - getting through won't be fun, but I can crash their system for about fifteen seconds. That's all you'll get."
"Fifteen's enough."
You glance back at Aymeric. He's moving, but not well - his breath ragged, hand still pressed against his wound. Definitely paler than before. Blood stains his sleeve, his side. You shift your Kiroshi optics, scanning for a trail - any sign that Reed could follow.
Shit.
He's dripping. Not a flood, but it's flowing. You wouldn't even have to be a halfway decent tracker to follow them, a clear red trail lay out behind them. He was losing a lot of blood.
Aurore sees it too. She rips a piece of her own shirt and presses it against Aymeric's wound, trying to slow the bleed. It won't stop it, but maybe it'll be enough to keep them from getting an easy trail.
The streets ahead are tight, alleys barely lit, but you're close to the outer walls of Dogtown now.
"Put more pressure on that wound, but don't stop running."
Aurore tightens the cloth around Aymeric's wound. His face is pale, breath coming in short bursts, but he pushes forward. He has to. If he goes down now, there's no getting him back up.
Your Kiroshis flicker - an incoming call. Reed.
You don't even hesitate. Declined.
You keep running - until a Barghest patrol rounds the corner, rifles already raised.
Four of them, clad in patched-up Militech gear, their visors flashing red as they scan you.
"Hey!" The lead one, a wiry guy with a chrome jaw, steps forward. "ID yourselves - now."
Behind you, Aymeric is visibly swaying, Aurore keeping him upright. You all look like hell - worse, you look guilty. Dogtown security doesn't ask questions. They don't arrest. They shoot first.
Your deck is still cooling down, your RAM barely trickling back. No quickhacks - not yet.
The lead Barghest cocks his rifle. "No sudden moves, or I put you all in the ground."
Aurore steps forward, lifting her hands just enough to show she isn't a threat. Her voice is calm, controlled - still Corpo even when she's bleeding, still knowing exactly how to work a power structure.
"I'm Aurore Cassel. Someone is trying to kill us - they're right behind us. They shot my brother."
The lead Barghest hesitates. His visor flashes as he runs her ID. A tense second drags by - then the scan comes back.
"Shit. You're that netrunner bitch, got a meeting with the big man today, says here."
Aurore is someone. Even in Dogtown, her name means something.
Songbird on comms. "Not good V, they're not going to be on your side much longer if they have Barghest support."
You don't have time for this.
"Fuck, Song, I've got barely enough for one quickhack, I can probably shutdown their comms and eyes, and we can book it..."
Aymeric is fading, his weight heavier against your side. You look at him, and he looks like shit. He looks like Jackie did after-.
"V?"
"Yeah, Song?"
"This is gonna feel… not great."
You understand, brace yourself, about to push through the RAM restrictions again, reaching for another System Collapse-
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But before you can even trigger the quickhack, you feel a chill like ice down your spine, and all four Barghest guards convulse. Their rifles clatter to the pavement, bodies jerking as cyberware locks up and synapses misfire. Soul wrenching screams tear from their vocalisers as they crumple, their own chrome betraying them.
C̶̛͉o̴̥̼̰̔͊̑̚m̛̳̟͔p̷̢̢̨̲͓̐́̿͝͠l̶̗͎̆͌̾̌et̶̨̠̣̒̀̈́è̴̢̀.
What the-?
"You were about to burn yourself out again," Songbird's voice slides through your comms with a light, almost teasing lilt – but there's a breathiness beneath it, the faint hitch of someone trying to mask exhaustion behind a veneer of ease. "Figured I'd save you the migraine this time."
Your HUD glitches for a second, then stabilizes - before a pixelated figure flickers into existence beside you. Songbird. Her digital avatar, flickering like old-world VHS static, appears alongside you, her form distorted by the unstable signal.
She hacked through you. Used your neural link as a proxy to fry the guard before you could do it yourself.
"You jacked into my deck without asking?" you pant, still out of breath from the run, half holding Aymeric's weakening body.
"Would've said please, but we were on a clock."
You don't have time to argue. You just run.
"Slight delay, Panam. We're working on the front gate hacks."
"Then make it fast. I see the main entrance on the south side. If you can get there, I can get to you."
You hear a gunfight erupt from around the corner, at the main gate. Then an almighty BOOM followed by dozens of explosions popping like firecrackers
Then-
"Don't worry about the hacks, actually, there should be a nice hole there for you now."
As you round the corner, Aymeric goes down.
His body just gives, knees buckling as he slams onto the pavement. Aurore drops with him, trying to catch his fall, but his weight is too much. His breathing is sharp, ragged, his skin pale as death under the flickering neon.
Songbird's avatar flickers, her voice cutting through the chaos.
"You need to move, V!"
Panam is seconds away. The gat is right there. But Aymeric isn't getting up on his own, and the sounds of dozens of Barghest transports moving in on their position was deafening.
"Aurore-" your voice is sharp, desperate. "We have to go. Now."
She doesn't move. She's on her knees beside Aymeric, pressing against his wound like sheer willpower alone can keep him alive. Her breath is ragged, her fingers shaking, but her eyes - her eyes are locked onto his face, refusing to leave.
"He won't make it," you grit out, pulse hammering in your ears. "But we will. If we stay, we all die."
Aurore doesn't respond - just stares. She's a freelance netrunner, used to cutting losses, used to making the cold, calculated choice. But this? This isn't a spreadsheet. This is him.
Aymeric's lips move. You don't catch what he's saying.
Aurore breaks. A sound escapes her throat - something sharp, something broken - but her hands slowly, slowly, release him. Her face twists, pain and fury clashing in the dim neon glow.
Then - she turns.
She runs.
You grab her wrist to make sure she doesn't stop, even as she lets out a choked sob, even as Aymeric's body lies still on the pavement behind you.
You don't look back.
The main gate, was a pantheon of fire and desolation, the Basilisk sitting just beyond the threshold. The hatch is open, engine growling. She's in the cockpit, flicking switches, eyes scanning the chaos below.
"Took your sweet damn time!" she yells.
You shove Aurore forward. She stumbles into the Basilisk, her breathing ragged. You jump in after her, pulling the hatch shut just as Panam guns it.
Dogtown blurs behind you, the chaos shrinking away.
You did it.
You got out.
Aurore is silent beside you, staring at the floor. Her fists clench, knuckles white.
Songbird's voice crackles in your comms, softer now.
"...I'm sorry."
The Basilisk hums beneath you, the low vibrations of its engine rattling through your bones. It's cramped as hell - designed for a pilot and a gunner, not three fugitives shoved into the tight confines of its armoured hull.
Aurore is pressed up against you, her body tense, silent. You can feel her heart hammering beneath her ribs, feel the heat of her skin through the thin layers of corporate fabric now stained with blood - Aymeric's blood.
She doesn't say a word. She doesn't sob. She just stares at nothing, eyes rimmed with dark, ruined mascara. She looks hollow, as if she hasn't caught up with the reality of what just happened.
Outside, the sound of gunfire fades as Panam guns it through the shattered roads of the Badlands. The neon hell of Dogtown shrinks behind you, replaced by open desert and a sky washed in orange and purple. The air is thinner out here - less choked, less drowning.
Panam doesn't slow until the Basilisk is well past the range of any Barghest pursuit. Only then does she let out a sharp breath, easing off the throttle. The Basilisk rumbles, but the violence in its movement dies.
"Nice of you to bring the big guns," you mutter, shifting your weight in the cramped space.
Panam lets out a dry, humourless chuckle. "Yeah, well, sounded like you were about to get flatlined. Thought I'd make an entrance."
She glances over her shoulder, scanning you and Aurore. Her expression shifts when she sees the state of things - the blood, the way Aurore isn't speaking, how you're barely holding yourself upright.
She doesn't ask. She just exhales through her nose, eyes forward again. "You need a place to lie low? Aldecaldos won't ask questions."
Aurore still hasn't said a word. Just breathing, just existing.
You take a deep breath, still feeling the dull ache of neural backlash in your skull. The Basilisk hums around you, a metal beast cutting through the desert night.
"I appreciate it, Panam - really. But if we stick around too long, we might bring half of NUSA down on the Aldecaldos. Can't risk that."
Panam frowns, glancing at you in the rearview feed. "Shit. It's that bad?"
"Worse," you admit. You glance at Aurore - still silent, still locked inside whatever storm is raging in her head. You tread carefully, avoiding details that might tip too much to anyone listening in. "Classified-level Corpo bullshit. People are already dead for it. It's not just Dogtown after us. The NUSA, the FIA..."
Panam exhales sharply. "Jesus, V. You really know how to pick your fights."
"Yeah, well… this fight found me."
She's quiet for a second. Then she nods, adjusting course slightly. "Alright. You can freshen up at camp, but then you need to move. If what you're saying is true, I can't risk the clan."
"I get it. I was thinking of heading back to Night City anyway – none of my places will be safe, but I'm willing to bet we'll be safe at Jackie's garage. Relatively."
Panam's lips press into a line. You can almost hear the gears turning in her head.
"Jackie's place, huh? Been a while since I heard that name."
You nod, the memory of your old choom hitting you in a way you don't have time to process right now.
"It's quiet. We've got friends in the Valentino's, Misty keeps it clean, but no one uses it much anymore. If we lay low, we can figure out our next move."
Another pause. Then Panam clicks her tongue. "Alright. We'll get you back to the city. But V - " her voice hardens, like she's about to say something she knows you don't want to hear, " - whatever the hell this is? You be damn sure it's worth it."
You don't answer right away. You just glance at Aurore.
At the tears she isn't crying.
At the weight she's carrying now, heavier than anything before.
Then, at the flickering form of Songbird in your HUD - watching, waiting.
"I'm sure," you say.
Panam doesn't argue. Just grips the controls tighter and keeps driving, the Badlands stretching ahead, the neon lights of Night City flickering in the distance.
For now, you're alive.
For now.
The desert night is quiet - the kind of quiet you don't get in Night City. No sirens, no screaming engines, no flickering neon drowning out the stars. Just the wind rolling across the dunes, whispering through the Aldecaldo camp below. Fires burn in barrels, casting long shadows as nomads move between their tents, tending to their rigs, sharing stories over cheap booze and dusty radios.
You sit atop a rocky outcrop overlooking it all, legs hanging over the edge.
Then -
A soft flicker of light at your side.
Songbird blinks into existence beside you, her form pixelated, shifting between clarity and static like an old-world projection struggling for a signal. Her digital self doesn't need to sit, doesn't need to breathe, but she does it anyway - mirroring you, knees bent, hands resting on thighs, as if she's really there.
For a moment, she doesn't say anything. Just watches you.
Then -
"How are you holding up?" Her voice is softer than usual. Less clipped, less teasing. Almost… careful.
You don't answer right away.
Your gaze drifts down to the Aldecaldo camp, settling on a lone tent near the outskirts. Aurore is in there. Alone. You haven't spoken since she left Aymeric behind. Since you made her leave him behind.
"I feel like I failed her," you murmur, barely above the wind, speaking out loud even though it was unnecessary. "And I don't want to fail you."
You turn your head, forcing yourself to really look at Songbird.
She's still glitching, her avatar pulsing between smooth resolution and digital noise, but you take in every detail - the curve of her lips, the sharp intelligence in her eyes, the way her magenta hair flickers as if caught between real and unreal. She's beautiful in a way that doesn't quite fit into words, like something meant to exist only in fragments, never whole.
And yet -
You feel something real in your chest.
A dull ache, a pull, a gravity between you and something you shouldn't be reaching for.
She holds your gaze, and for a moment, she looks… conflicted. Her expression softens, the teasing bravado from earlier stripped away, leaving something raw underneath.
She exhales - not because she needs to, but because maybe it makes her feel human.
"V…" Her voice is quieter now, as if she's unsure of what to say next.
She flickers in and out of resolution, glitching slightly before stabilizing - like even the net itself struggles to hold her together. But her eyes? Her eyes stay locked on you, searching, waiting.
"We're going to get you out of Dogtown. I haven't forgotten that promise."
Songbird tilts her head slightly, as if studying you, as if trying to decipher something in your tone. The warm glow of the Aldecaldo campfire below reflects in her irises, making them shimmer - more alive than they should be for a digital projection.
You hesitate. The words almost slip, but you catch them.
"I just… when you used me as a proxy, I could feel that. It felt - "
You cut yourself off.
Because the truth?
It felt good.
Like a part of her had touched a part of you - not just in a data-transfer, quickhack kind of way, but something deeper. Something visceral. Like, for a few seconds, she wasn't just a flickering ghost in your optics.
But saying that out loud? That would be… strange. Too much.
So you keep it to yourself.
Songbird watches you closely. Maybe she sees the hesitation, the words left unsaid. Maybe she already knows.
She doesn't call you out on it, though. Instead, she lets out a quiet hum - soft, contemplative.
"Yeah…" she murmurs, her voice almost lost in the desert wind. "I felt it too."
A beat of silence passes.
Then, she shifts, drawing her knees up slightly, resting her arms on them. "You know… most people don't get to touch my mind without melting their own." A smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. "Guess you're either built different or just too stubborn to fry."
It's meant to be a joke, but there's something else under it - something more uncertain.
For the first time, she looks… vulnerable.
"Blackwall AI won't get me - " you smirk, stretching out your legs, letting the desert wind cool the heat in your head. "It'd have to go through Johnny first."
Songbird raises an eyebrow, but the corner of her lips quirks up.
"Yeah?" she asks, tilting her head slightly.
"Oh, definitely. He'd just start verbally abusing it until it collapsed in on itself. Maybe light up a cigarette while calling it a 'pussy-ass digital corpo dog' and urging it to kill itself before it even got the chance to burn out his code."
She actually laughs at that - a quiet, breathy thing, like she wasn't expecting to. Her pixelated form flickers slightly with the movement.
"Hah. Y'know, I'd pay good eddies to see Johnny Silverhand trying to out-trash-talk an AI horror from beyond the Blackwall." She shakes her head. "Would almost be worth the inevitable cyberpsychosis."
"Almost."
The brief moment of levity lingers for a second, warm but fleeting. Then, reality creeps back in.
The city in the distance. The dangers ahead. The people left behind.
"We need to talk about the plan," you say, exhaling, letting the weight settle back onto your shoulders.
Songbird nods, the flicker of amusement fading into something more serious. "Yeah. We do."
"You. Neural Matrix. Fix us both. That's the gist, yeah?"
Songbird meets your eyes, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she doesn't say anything. Then -
"Yeah," she murmurs. "That's the gist."
You glance back toward the camp, toward the lone tent where Aurore is holed up.
"… but for now, I should check on her first"
She follows your gaze. More softly now. "You should."
She doesn't glitch out immediately, doesn't vanish into static. She just sits there for a few seconds longer, watching the firelight dance below, before finally dissolving into shimmering pixels - gone, but not far.
You stand up, stretching out the stiffness in your legs. The camp below is quiet, but you know Aurore isn't sleeping.
She's grieving.
And you?
You're about to walk straight into it.
The walk down is longer than it should be. Not in distance - just in weight.
You turn words over in your head, searching for the right ones. Something to bring Aurore back from the edge, something to keep her from falling into that dark, silent place where grief settles in like rot.
But nothing feels right. Nothing feels like enough.
By the time you reach the tent, you've come to no great conclusion.
So you just step inside.
"Aurore?"
The dim glow of a lantern flickers inside, casting long shadows against the fabric walls. The air is thick with the scent of sand, old leather, and the faint metallic tinge of blood - Aymeric's blood, still clinging to the torn sleeve of her coat.
She's lying in bed, awake. Staring at nothing.
Her face is unreadable, but her eyes… her eyes say everything.
You think of Evelyn.
The quiet, the stillness, the way grief doesn't always come in screams or sobs - it just settles in the bones, making a home in the silence.
You don't say anything.
You just sit down beside her, the cot creaking slightly under the shift in weight. Not touching, not forcing words into a space where they don't belong.
Just being there.
The silence stretches, heavy but not unbearable.
Eventually, Aurore exhales. Not quite a sigh - more like she's letting go of something, just a fraction.
The silence lingers. Not empty - heavy. The weight of loss pressing down, suffocating but not quite crushing.
Then, finally, Aurore speaks.
"He's gone."
So soft you almost don't hear it. Like she's not even speaking to you, just letting the words drift into the air, testing how they feel outside of her head.
"Yeah."
It's not the right response. Feels hollow, like an echo of something deeper that refuses to take shape. But what else can you say? What words could possibly make any of this better?
Your mind drifts. Jackie. Evelyn. Two ghosts among many. People you couldn't save, people who still live somewhere in the cracks of your soul, pressing against the edges when you least expect it.
Then, you think of Misty.
What would she say?
You close your eyes for a second, picturing her - her soft voice, the way she always seemed to understand grief in a way no one else did. How she spoke in riddles that somehow weren't riddles at all.
You turn the thought over in your head. Debating.
You exhale, running a hand through your hair before finally speaking, soft, matching her tone.
"Choom of mine once told me… that people don't really leave us. Not completely."
Aurore doesn't react at first. Just stares at the fabric ceiling of the tent, eyes glassy, unreadable. But she's listening.
"She said," you continue, voice low, steady, "that when someone dies, they don't just vanish. They leave pieces of themselves behind. In the spaces they once filled. In the people who remember them."
You glance at her, watching how the words settle over her like dust on old glass.
"Maybe it's in something small," you say. "A habit they passed on. A phrase they always used. Or maybe it's in the choices we make - the ones we wouldn't have, if not for them."
Aurore finally shifts, her fingers curling slightly into the blanket.
"He's gone," she repeats, but this time, it's different. Not a question. Not a denial. Just… acknowledgment.
You nod.
"Yeah. But not completely."
A long silence stretches between you, but it's different now. Not as suffocating. Not as empty.
Finally, Aurore exhales - a shaky, uneven breath, but a breath nonetheless.
She doesn't say anything else. But she doesn't have to.
You hesitate - just for a second - then slowly reach out, resting a hand on Aurore's shoulder.
It's not much. Just a touch. A reminder that she's not alone, even if it feels that way.
At first, she doesn't react. Doesn't pull away, doesn't lean in. Just exists beneath your hand, stiff, unmoving.
But then -
A slight shift. A breath. A barely perceptible loosening of her muscles, as if, for just a moment, the weight pressing down on her lessens.
She doesn't say anything.
But she doesn't pull away.
You don't push. You just sit there, hand resting on her shoulder, letting her decide what comes next.
Because this? This moment?
It's not about you.
You could tell her the truth now - tell her that you played a part in everything that led to Aymeric's death. That you were the one who came for them, that Reed and Alex were your team, and they never would've been in that garage if not for you. That you were just another piece in the machine that crushed them.
But now isn't the time.
Eventually, you'll have to face it. Face her.
The warmth of the desert sun wakes you first. The scent of sand and engine grease, the distant murmur of voices. Your back aches from sleeping in a position no human body was meant to endure, slumped against the side of the cot.
You blink awake - only to find the bed empty.
Aurore is gone.
Before you can process it, you hear a familiar voice.
"Didn't know you were the bedside vigil type."
You look up. Panam stands in the tent's entrance, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in something between curiosity and amusement.
You sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Don't start."
She just smirks, then tilts her head toward the camp. "Come on. We got shit to talk about."
The Plan
The two of you sit by the Basilisk, engines cooled, sand settling in the mid-morning heat. You lay it all out for Panam.
Tonight, you head for Night City.
First stop? River Ward. He's one of the few cops who still gives a damn, and if anyone can pull a few strings to help get you back into Dogtown without catching a bullet in the head, it's him.
The goal? Get Songbird out. Get a classified piece of corpo tech out.
Panam listens, nodding along, but then her questions start.
"Alright, V. Now explain what the hell kind of mess you're dragging me into."
You exhale, leaning forward. "The twins - Aurore and Aymeric - they're netrunners. Good ones. They got their hands on Cynosure access codes."
Panam frowns. "Cynosure? Never heard of it."
"Most people haven't. Discontinued Militech program. But those codes? They were valuable enough that Barghest was willing to pay top dollar. Problem is… the FIA wants 'em for themselves, or at least, not in the hands of Hansen."
"Which is where your old pals come in?"
"Yeah. Alex and Reed. FIA agents. I thought their orders were to incapacitate the twins, steal the codes and make away with the Cynosure data. Problem was, incapacitation actually meant execution, and I didn't sign up for that."
Panam huffs. "That makes one of you."
You don't argue.
Then comes the next question - one that makes your stomach twist.
"And Songbird?"
You hesitate.
"Songbird's the best netrunner I've ever met. Used to work with Reed and Alex, back when she was still under NUSA control. But after the Space Force One crash, she got captured by Hansen. Dogtown's ruler turned her into his own personal tech-witch, keeping her locked in Dogtown's grid."
Panam's brow furrows. "Yeah, see, that's the part that doesn't make sense to me. How the hell did Barghest even bring down Space Force One? That's a goddamn presidential ship."
You open your mouth – then shut it.
Because you don't actually know.
How did Hansen pull that off?
The thought sits heavy in your gut. But you push it down. There's no time for those kinds of questions - not yet.
Panam must see the flicker of doubt in your face, but she doesn't push. Just nods once, firm.
"Alright. We get to Night City, you talk to your cop friend, and we figure out how to break into Dogtown without getting lit up by Barghest or the FIA. Clean plan."
"Something like that."
She sighs, shaking her head with a smirk. "You always drag me into the worst shit, V."
"You love it."
"Debatable." But she claps a hand on your shoulder. "Go check on your netrunner. She's looking better, just."
The campfire crackles, orange embers rising into the air. The Aldecaldos move around it, voices low, the smell of charred meat and old whiskey mixing with the dry desert air.
And there she is.
Aurore sits among them, hands wrapped around a metal cup. She looks rough - dark circles under her eyes, face still pale, but…
She's there.
Present.
The emptiness from last night isn't gone, but it's not all-consuming anymore.
Then, she lifts her head - and meets your gaze.
She doesn't look away.
And neither do you.
You meet her eyes and offer a small, sad smile. The kind that doesn't need words.
Aurore doesn't smile back. Not quite. But something in her expression shifts - an acknowledgment, a flicker of something behind the grief.
The fire crackles. The desert wind hums.
This is far from over.