Gevs

Music never really meant anything to me. No, perhaps that wasn't true -- music was a source of relief, but not because of the music itself but rather, because it meant that it would be a light work day. It meant I wouldn't have to take another step closer to death, my body flooded with experimental drugs and compounds, with countless implants gettingt taken in and out of me to the point I never knew how much of me was actually me. So, when we woke up in that room in the Orphanage and we were greeted by headphones and screens… it was a welcomed sight.

It meant that I wouldn't have to watch anyone die that day.

There were certain kinds of music that I found more appealing than others, but I would be hard pressed to think of a single song that I genuinely liked. Jack would be able to. She had entire playlists, some of them dedicated to inspiring a feeling like getting pumped up or to help her find her 'zen.' Perhaps, out of everything, that's what made this so weird.

I stood up on a stage before a roaring crowd, a guitar hanging from my shoulders while a mic was leveled at my mouth. Dark and ugly feelings welled up in my chest -- rage. So much rage. It felt like I was drowning in it and the only lifeline I had was music. To unleash it all into the mic in the hopes that enough of it would be let out that I could breathe again. It was something completely foreign to me. I never had this kind of release and I had never thought to turn to music of all things.

"JOHNNY! JOHNNY! JOHNNY!" The crowd changed, screaming at the top of their lungs as my fingers strummed at the cords with a song I didn't know. Emotion swelled in my chest -- pride… and arrogance. I loved the adoration, but I hated those that it was coming from. Idiots that claimed to love the music but refused to hear the deeper message, and those that heard it but didn't follow through. They didn't understand. No one did. And that was just another reason to be angry.

So I let it all out into the mic. Screaming until my throat felt like it was on fire, forcing the others to pick up their pace to match mine.

And when the song was done… I didn't feel any better.

The scene changed -- gone was the roaring crowd whose faces I could barely see in the darkness and the thumping music. I was backstage, I think. A room that seemed vaguely familiar, not because I had seen it before but because it looked so similar to the countless others I had seen. A couch in a corner, mirrors, clothes thrown all about and, most importantly, a mountain of pills.

Drugs were another outlet. Alcohol too. When the music failed to do the job, drugs dulled my mind enough that I could breathe. To lift the rage and despair that was sitting on my chest. They went best together -- a handful of pills washed down with a few shots of tequila. Do one or the other and it might not be enough and I would dwell on the rage instead. No. It was better in excess. To drink and get so high that I couldn't think at all. A few blissful moments of peace before reality dragged me back down.

Escapism. I was more familiar with it than the music, but not like this. Not with drugs and alcohol. I grew up with lies as a form of escapism. Imagining what the world would look like beyond the doors of the Orphanage. Imagining that we would one day escape and no one had to die.

"You're a wreck," I heard a familiar voice tell me. Lowering a half empty bottle of tequila from my lips, I looked over to see a woman that I knew but didn't recognize. Blond hair, blue eyes, a white undershirt with a black half jacket over it. She was beautiful. All natural too. A name sprung to mind despite the haze of my thoughts and my not knowing her. Alt. Alt Cunningham.

"Your wreck," I heard myself reply in a voice that wasn't my own. To that, Alt simply smiled, striding across the room and taking the bottle of tequila from my hands…

Sex. Pleasure, really. Another outlet. Another escape. Meaningless sex was fine -- an orgasm was an orgasm, but it meant more with others. With Alt. A connection formed from understanding, yet it was that very same connection that led to fear. Fear, and more anger. This world took the things that you loved and ground them to dust.

The solution?

Don't care at all. Luckily the drugs, booze, and music made that easy.

…

"Hnngh…" I groaned, feeling my head pounding between my temples as I grasped at the wisps of the dream I had been having. Opening my eyes, I felt the light stabbing knives into my brain, so I turned on the dazzler shield to help me deal with the brightness. I was on an operating chair, I realized. More than that, I was at Vik's.

"Easy there," I heard Vik say when I made to sit up, but my stomach tried to rebel for the action. If I had anything in my stomach, I'm sure I would have vomited it up. Instead, burning stomach acid leapt up my throat before I swallowed it down. "Kid, I gotta say, you really have to stop coming in here unconscious. It's a bad look for me, you know?" He was trying to keep his voice light, but there was an edge of concern there.

I peered at the room through squinted eyes, "What happened to me?" I asked, recalling my last memories easily enough. The fight with Smasher. The conversation with Saburo. Then there was a splitting pain in my head that felt like someone had pushed my brain through a grinder.

"That chip you plugged in is what happened," Vik told me, and I looked at him, seeing that his lips were pressed into a thin line. I reached up to the Relic to see that it was still in the slot. "I'd say to let this be a lesson abouti shoving shit in your head, but…" he trailed off before a sigh heaved out of him.

"But?" I prompted, curious as to why he wasn't ripping me a new one.

In response, Vik pulled the monitor over to let me see what was on it. I recognized my brain scan easily enough -- it had seen a pretty big change, however. There were forty one tumors scattered about in my head now. Some grew in clusters, with one with as many as six in a small area. There wasn't a single part of my brain that didn't have them now. "The Relic is filled with nanites that flooded your brain and, as far as I can tell, they're attacking the tumors. It's kind of similar to a high end cancer treatment I've heard of, and it's having mostly the same effect. Your vitals are improving. After I pulled all of the damaged organs out of you."

I was silent for a moment, mulling that over. It certainly explained the headache. "You don't sound particularly enthused," I pointed out, making Vik grimace.

"Because fighting tumors isn't the only thing it's doing. It's what it's doing for the most part, sure, but… I'm seeing changes in your neural make up. It's a theory right now, but knowing what we know about the Relic…" he trailed off, glancing over at his desk. Where… there was a half burned burned through Relic that was almost unrecognizable with the burnt metal. "I think it's trying to put whoever is inside of that chip into you. It's trying to turn your brain into-"

"Johnny," I interjected, realizing that it hadn't been a dream before. It had been a memory. "Johnny Silverhand."

Vik blinked, "Oh." It sounded like there was a lot going unsaid with that 'oh.' he swallowed it down and inclined his head to me, "It's trying to make you Johnny Silverhand. It might not be trying to kill your body, but… it's going to kill you, L." Another death sentence, huh? It felt like I was getting a lot of those lately.

"How long?" I asked Vik for the second time, clenching my jaw.

"If it holds up as it has? I'd give it a little more than a year. Maybe two, if you're lucky. But, it'll get ugly long before then." Vik answered me, a sigh escaping him when I just nodded.

That was fine. Honestly, I felt a little bad -- Johnny Silverhand could get a second lease on life and it was in a meat suit that was already nearing its expiration date. If something wasn't done then he'd get my body just in time to die in it. I shoved those thoughts to the side to focus on the issue at hand. "How long have I been out of it?" I asked, sliding off of the table to find that I was a little weak at the knees. After waving off a hand for help, Vik sat back and looked at me.

He didn't answer for a moment, looking like he was chewing on something he wanted to say. "About five days, seeing as it's two thirty in the morning," Vik answered and I winced. That was too much time- "Jack and Becca were here every hour of the day, hovering by your bed, waiting for you to wake up. Only managed to get them gone yesterday on the promise to give them a ring the moment you woke up. Those girls care about you, L. And you're wasting that."

My gaze snapped to him, a frown tugging at my lips. He met it evenly, "Kid -- I just told you that that Relic is going to steal your body and you barely batted an eyelash. And I know you didn't tell those girls or Kaiden about your diagnosis." He spoke calmly, but there was a hard and unyielding edge to his words. "I know a little about your upbringing. What you went through. You faced death a thousand times and you aren't scared of it anymore… but… L, that's not a good thing. When you die, to you, that's it. You're just dead. It's everyone else around you that has to deal with your death. You should know that."

I looked away. I shouldn't have, but I did. "I do know that," I replied in a low voice, my fingers digging into the side of the operating table- ah. I think I dented the metal.

"I'm not your father or your caretaker, even if I am the one putting you back together after you manage to rip yourself apart. I can't tell you what to do. Or even what you should do -- L, your entire life is completely out of my wheelhouse from start to finish. I'm just saying that people value your life so maybe you ought to start valuing it too."

I really didn't know what I should say to that, even if I wish I really did. I did value my life. I didn't want to die. I just… valued other people more. I had come to terms with death a long time ago and fear of it didn't have a hold on my actions. Still, I couldn't bring myself to argue with what Vik said, and I knew deep down that was because he had a point. He seemed to know it too, because he didn't keep hammering it home. Instead, he rubbed his eyes with his thumb and pointer finger, seemingly exhausted.

"I don't suppose you'd listen to my recommendation for bed rest?" He asked me drily, already knowing the answer.

"There's too much that needs doing and I've already lost enough time," I told him in the same tone as someone else would say 'I'm sorry.' I don't think he suspected anything else, though.

"Thought not," Vik sighed. I offered him a small nod before finding my legs as I headed to the door. A thought prickling at the back of my mind -- a consideration that I was forced to think about now that Vik had shoved it in my face.

I had no control over my power. I had no control over what my charges were spent on. As far as I could tell, it was half guided by what I wanted and half what I needed. When I needed to make something smaller? I got PYM Particles. When I needed an energy source, I got the GN Drive. When I wanted to upgrade my prosthetic and fit guns in there? I got lasers, plasma, electricity, and a rocket arm. Without fail, generally whenever I felt like I was hitting a roadblock in a task, I would feel a charge being spent to clear the roadblock away.

I was dying. Slowly but surely. Now my body was getting overwritten by a construct on a Relic.

Yet, there was nothing. The charges I had in the back of my mind, waiting to be used, went unspent. A revolutionary medical breakthrough didn't manifest that would save my life.

Was that because I was so certain that I would survive that my need wasn't enough to trigger my power? Or was I so desensitized to the thought of dying that I couldn't trigger it?

I reached the door before Vik spoke up, "During that showdown with Smasher. You saved someone -- Jackie. He's a good kid. Good boxer too. He's here because of you, L. Would have died if you didn't get him out of that mess. So, thanks. And I'm sure Misty will want to thank you too." He added, making me pause. I recalled Jackie, but I'm not really sure you could say that I had saved him. I just wanted him and Yorinobu out of the battlefield.

I didn't reply and just nodded, going up the steps. It was nighttime, thankfully, but there was still enough neon to illuminate the back alley. I tucked my hands into the pockets of David's jacket, considering heading down through the back alley to avoid Misty. But Vik would tell her and I didn't want to make her feel bad, even if I didn't do anything worthy of gratitude. It was two in the morning, though, so maybe she was asleep?

Heading through the back door, I wasn't all that surprised when I found Misty behind the counter, perking up when she heard me enter. She looked the same as she ever did -- blonde hair cut in a bob, wearing a long purple sweater and black fishnets, complete with black eyeshadow and lipstick. She had only basic cybernetics for the sake of quality of life -- something I noticed was a rare case in Night City. Her lips curled upwards into a smile when she saw me, "Trying to slip by?"

"I would have been invisible if I was trying," I deflected.

"I'm glad to see you on your feet again. You're the talk of the town. Have been for days now -- a rare enough thing considering how fast people move on from the news." Misty said as I rounded the corner and stood across from her on the other side of the counter. I saw that she had four tarot cards before her -- the Sun, the Star, the Chariot, and the Devil.

"Anyone saying anything good?" I asked, my gaze lingering on the cards for a moment. To that, Misty smiled ruefully.

"That the battle with Adam Smasher was nova, but they would have preferred it happening in another city," Misty admitted, her tone apologetic. I hadn't seen much of the damage to the city, but Smasher hadn't been conservative when it came to throwing rocks at me. "The people that admire you have another reason to and those that don't have another reason not to." I really didn't expect anything different there. Their opinions really didn't mean anything to me however. So long as they didn't get in my way.

Misty folded her cards back into the deck, "It was a reading for Jackie." She informed, knowing that I had looked. "He's alive because of you. You opened a way for him to escape." The reading I saw wasn't a great one, based on my limited knowledge.

"How is he doing?" I asked, and her expression fell ever so slightly.

"Questioning himself. He wanted to become a Legend in this city, you know? Like Silverhand. Like you. He thought he was ready for the big leagues, but then he saw you and Smasher," Misty answered, giving a small shrug. "His spirit will settle but he's at a fork in the road, and it's up to him to decide which path he follows."

A Legend. That's what people called me. The only value I saw in the title was because of Z -- he wanted to be remembered. He died before we could escape, but I could fulfill that dream for him. Beyond that, I couldn't help but think it was an empty title. A worthless thing to pursue just for the sake of pursuing it.

"Since he's too embarrassed to do it -- thank you, L. For bringing my Jackie back to me," Misty said, giving me a soft smile that only grew when she saw how uncomfortable I was with the gratitude. "Would you like a tarot reading? To give you a little insight on what comes next?"

I paused, scratching at my neck for a moment. "... No, thanks," I told her, giving a shake of my head. "I already know what comes next. If you see Jackie before I do, then thank him for getting Yorinobu out of there." I said, giving her a wave before I walked away from the counter while giving a wave over my shoulder. She didn't reply, simply watching me walk away as I stepped into the streets of Night City.

The neon was bright, but I could tone down the dazzler shield. I felt music thumping through my feet from various clubs that lined the way and I saw people were stumbling in and out of them. I never paid much mind before -- it was just a part of Night City that I didn't understand and couldn't be bothered to. Now, however, I understand. It was escapism. The worse things got, the more people indulged in sex and drugs to forget about how bad things were. Even as they destroyed themselves to do it.

It wasn't my understanding, though.

I tucked my hands into my pockets, ignoring the cheers and jeers I got from people that thought I was a member of my poser gang. My feet carried me to my destination as my head swam with information, plans, and possibilities. Eventually I arrived at a rundown building in Kabuki -- my room was a massive one thanks to the tenants before me knocking down every wall on one side of the building. It was my current base and, to my relief, I saw that it was empty.

I had my own form of escapism, I now knew. Where others turned to drugs, I turned to work. To my technology. Which is why, after everything, I found myself leaning over another iteration of the GN Drive, to focus instead of letting my thoughts wander. To distract myself from what I was really wanting to think about. My hands moved on their own, hooking in wires and snapping pieces into place. In no time at all, the half finished prototype was assembled and ready for testing.

Putting it into a vacuum chamber, I turned the GN Drive on and immediately orange particles began to spill out of it. After thirty seconds, those particles slowly started to turn more and more red. A step backward. The red particles were toxic, having similar effects as radiation.

Another failure.

The wrench I carried in my hand was thrown to the floor, bouncing off of it with a thunk before it flew away with a clatter. My hands clenched into tight fists and my teeth threatened to shatter under the pressure how tightly I clenched my jaw. Lashing out with a hand, I slammed down on my desk with enough force everything on it jostled. "Fuck," I hissed the curse out before I forced myself to take in a calming breath and fell into my chair.

"A controlled defeat," I muttered, leaning back in my chair as I finally gave in. I looked at the news to find that it was filled from top to bottom about Arasaka. Saburo really had privatized the company. They sold off property, patents, and excess materials at a fraction of the cost. The top brass was mostly cherry picked -- some directors of the board were found dead, and the rest were missing. V among them. As for everyone else?

Tens of thousands of employees suddenly found themselves without a job. There was no notice. Merely a termination letter in their email and a warning that their company supplied implants would be deactivated in twenty-four2 hours. Japan only narrowly avoided a collapse because Arasaka's materials, patents, and property were sold to the government. More importantly, the entire world was freaking out. Arasaka had been one of the single most powerful forces in the world -- a nation in itself.

And, suddenly, without any warning, it was gone. Like smoke in the wind.

There were a thousand and one reasons to panic as far as the world was concerned. An economic recession. The collapse of arms dealing in countless conflicts around the world. Chaos as all the other megacorporations would rush to fill the power vacuum that Arasaka had left behind. But above all else… me. I was the greatest reason to panic. A single man had bullied Arasaka to the point it crawled into a shell to protect itself from me. People had already been scared of me. Now, they were terrified.

It was frustrating to read, simply because they didn't get it. The victory tasted like ash in my mouth. "They're not gone," I snapped at the tabloids and the news reports. Saburo was still out there, lurking in the shadows. Arasaka had fled into the night, their tail tucked between their legs and their arms full of what they needed to survive but nothing more. A victory. Just not the one that I wanted, because they were still alive -- one day, when they felt like they had gained enough strength, they would return.

They were a diminished threat, but a threat all the same. I wanted them dead, not broken. I didn't want them to ever come back.

I-

"What a fucking pity party," I heard a familiar voice speak up, making my gaze snap to it's source. Blue static clung to his body, but standing near the failed GN Drive was a man, idly smoking a cigarette as he peered into the containment field. Black hair parted in the middle, rough beard with a pair of red sunglasses on -- he wore leather pants and a flak vest. Most notable of all, however, was the silver prosthetic arm. "This is some nova shit, you know? Looks like something out of a sci-fi flick. Can't say I understand shit about it, though, even if I am in your head."

He turned to look at me and our eyes met. I glanced through the security feed -- he didn't show up on any cameras. No. He was in my head. My brain was processing his presence by projecting him through my senses?

"Silverhand," I greeted him, my tone even. Guarded. I knew little of Johnny Silverhand -- having only heard vague references at best. However, I felt like I knew him now. I had had a glimpse into his memories, having them feel like they were my own…

"L," Johnny returned, flicking the cigarette away as he strode towards me with a swagger that felt familiar. "Feels like we got a lot to talk about," he said, taking a seat on a couch that was usually reserved for Becca and Jack, kicking his feet up on the coffee table and spreading his arms out wide. The picture of confidence. It should have been enough to make me believe it, but I felt the uncertainty. The questions. The fear. All of it lurking under the surface. I wonder what he felt from me?

"So… let's talk."

...

"Time for a ghost story, cowpokes. Not any old ghost story either - if you don't already know, let me tell you about what people are taking to callin'… the Ghost City.

Busan.

A city in Korea, four million lives… snuffed out in the Fourth Corpo War. Most fingers point at Militech, but thing is… it was a virus that killed Busan. Lab grown. The United Korean gov still has locked up in quarantine. One Corp in particular specializes in… biotech. And it ain't Militech.

But why am I bringing all this up? Well… Some Korean detective found some sat-images showing the Ghost City of Busan… being awful active for a dead thing.

Plenty of theories floating around, like how it's all just robots and automated systems and whatnot, but no one really knows what's going on in Busan, and deets have always been sparse on what exactly happened there...

Now, since we're tellin' ghost stories, here's Phantom 309 by Red Sovine.

~

Fear was a funny thing. Like everything in life, you could get used to it. Same way poor dumb ass gonks could get used to corpo propaganda being shoved down their throats to the point they didn't even notice it. Like you could with drugs, booze, and even pussy -- it took more to reach the same highs as before. Or the same lows, Johnny supposed. The point was, that you could be so afraid that anyone else would be pissing all over themselves but, to you… being afraid was normal. It was reality. You were so submersed into it and it was all that you ever knew.

Muted horror. That's what Johnny felt as he looked at a huge guy spazzing out, bleeding from his nose and ears. Red was the only bit of color in the sterile room with kids lined up for execution. They just didn't see the gun pointed at their heads. He did. I did? Johnny couldn't tell. Was this a dream? A memory? Couldn't be one of his but it sure did feel like a fucking nightmare.

"Rebel," Johnny demanded, feeling himself trying to swallow the rage down. Not himself. Couldn't be. He got sick of swallowing down the rage so he spat it all out into the mic. "Nothing's going to change unless you make it change. Don't look away from it. Stare right at it. Don't fucking flinch." The rage was building, a twinge of other emotions becoming a jumbled mess.

The self restraint broke. Johnny felt it. Even as the kid lashed out for the first time, finally having enough of the shit being shoved down his throat, the kid regretted it. He knew he fucked up. The sweet sound of the death of his tormentors wasn't worth what would come next.

"Better to die on your feet," Johnny tried to tell the kid as the memory played out. He watched on through the kids' eyes. The confusion had lessened significantly -- at least in the sense Johnny wasn't mistaking the kid for himself anymore. The degrees of separation were more defined, but there was still a connection. Echos of echos of emotions as the kids gathered themselves up for war. For freedom.

The human race was a stupid and unruly species. He always suspected it. One look at history would confirm as much, but he never saw greater evidence of it than what he saw before him now. The context was largely missing, but he knew what he was watching -- labrats that existed to further the corpos bottom line were drawing lines in the sand. Children who didn't even know what freedom was were craving it and were willing to die for it. Willing to kill. It was a lost battle before it even began, even if everything went exactly according to plan, they still would have lost. Damn kids had no fucking clue what they were stacked up against but he was rooting for them all the same.

They made the best play they had -- one gets out, so they could come back later to break out the others. A desperate play, but the only one that they had. The kid fought his way out and Johnny was there every step of the way. Fighting his way out of the cage he grew up in until he reached the hover car and…

Night City. The asshole of America… and home sweet home. The very sight of it made Johnny feel ill, and he was down right spoiled for choice for reasons why -- the massive fucking tower of adverts that rose up into the sky. The sea of neon below, filthy streets that were worse than they ever had been. 2023 hadn't been a good year for Night City, but it was practically paradise to what he was seeing. Above all else… Arasaka Tower. The building he fucking nuked stood taller than ever.

Yet, to the kid… a kid that only knew fear and white walls?

It was the single most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Not that he dwelled on it, Johnny saw as the memories leapt forward. He saw some faces -- some gonk named David who was shaping up to be a cyberpsycho with how much chrome he was chipping in. Becca -- she was a real firebrand. Johnny liked her. Lucy reminded him of Rogue. Stern and icy demeanor, but Johnny was willing to bet money that she was a damn freak in the sheets. They showed him the ropes and L got his feet underneath him.

Focus. Johnny, despite what many might claim, did know a thing or two about focus. To him, it was that feeling when he had to play. A song was in his heart and he would spend hours, days even, strumming at his guitar and trying to get that song out. To put what he felt into words, to let the world know. L cranked it up to eleven and then some.

All there was to him was the mission. That singular goal of getting all those kids out of that hell. Fashion? Didn't need it. Fun? Unnecessary. Taking a moment to kick back and fucking breathe in the acidic smog filled air? Every moment that he didn't dedicate to their escape was a moment wasted.

"Fucking moron," Johnny told him, his tone scornful. L was a goddamn robot for all his flesh and blood. All there was to him was that singular focus. His dedication to the kids. He killed remorselessly because they were just in the way, uncaring and unfeeling of everything he trampled to get what he wanted. "Live your life. Get drunk. Get laid. Fuckin' live, love, laugh."

L didn't. He didn't grow. He didn't mature. He got meaner and scarier, but he was still that punk kid that escaped that cage. And nothing changed that. The goalpost just got pushed further down the line -- first it was gangs. Then he started throwing down with Arasaka. Even seeing that couldn't endear L to Johnny. It couldn't. Not when Johnny felt the dispassionate way L killed and butchered. It wasn't personal to him. Arasaka was just in the way.

And now…

And now Johnny was looking at L, who got more bad news. He was dying even more than before -- Johnny Silverhand was a goddamn nuke in his head that was going to blow. He was a cancer that had to be cut out. It made Johnny sick to his stomach but what made him more ill was the fact L couldn't give a damn. No. That wasn't it. It was…

How was death supposed to scare someone that spent their entire life terrified?

It wasn't badass. It wasn't nova. It was fucking sad and it made Johnny want to cry just looking at him.

"I saw some of your memories," L began to conversation, his tone guarded. Johnny felt an echo of his uncertainty. He couldn't say he was a fan of that. Felt like his own. "Sorry about that."

Johnny scratched at his cheek. An apology. If it was him, he'd be putting iron in his mouth and threatening to pull the trigger if the intruder didn't get out. And if he refused, he would have opened a back door in his skull. "Suppose the road went both ways. Got the highlight reel of your life too." Sad as shit as it was. "Bet mine was more exciting." Hard not to be.

L made a noncommittal grunt, turning to face him fully. "What exactly are you wanting to talk about? How to get you out of my head?"

"Preferably. Don't want a meat suit that's going to spoil the moment I try it on," Johnny deflected. He ached for a smoke. Or a drink. Or a guitar. L was clean cut. So devoid of fun that he didn't breathe anything worse than Night City air, though Johnny was pretty sure that was worse than tobacco. "Looking around at this sci-fi shit, I'm thinking you could cook something up for me-" Johnny paused as he looked at L.

His finger was tapping. Johnny's stomach clenched, twisting itself into knots.

That was his habit. When he wanted to play the guitar but didn't have one, he'd tap out the tabs.

Fuck.

"We have a year, or thereabouts," L said, turning away from him and starting to undo the thing he had been building. They might share some greymatter but Johnny had no clue what the fuck that thing was. "That gives us some time to work something out. Could try cloning you a body. I could hack the nanites to stop attacking my brain, pop them into a chip out then pop you in a new body. Shouldn't be too hard." Doubts. There was the slightest delays, but Johnny felt them. L had his doubts about that.

"That easy? A bit of plug and play?" Johnny asked, watching L as he tried to come to terms with that. Was it really that easy? Fifty years was hell of a long time when it came to tech development. Cloning organs had been a thing for decades by the time Johnny started running through livers like they were shoes. Could people of tomorrow clone people now?

"Cloning isn't that advanced," L said as if he had asked that question. Had he heard it anyway? "To my knowledge, at least. Clones are brain dead upon completion. Something about the complexity of brains, I think. But I could probably improve upon the tech and the Relic should do to that brain what it's trying to do to mine. Not sure if I could call you alive, but you would be independent. And out of my head."

Calm. Like a serene pond without so much as a ripple insight. So used to swallowing shit that he didn't even think to spit the taste out.

"T'ill then?" Johnny asked, trying to imagine it. He all too easily recalled his death -- strapped to a chair, Soul Killer placed on him as Saburo Arasaka monologues in the face of a mushroom cloud. A hard memory to forget. Following that up was years of a state between consciousness and being asleep. Just aware enough to know that time was passing by. And now… well, calling it a second chance at life would be a fucking stretch, but it was something.

"I focus on more important things," L dismissed, taking apart the thingamajig with practiced ease.

"Arasaka," Johnny knew, leaning his head back to look up at the ceiling. "You killed the king." The admission didn't come easy. Before, if he got a second lease on life, he would have said that he'd continue the fight. Blow up 'saka Tower again. Preferably with Saburo in it.

Frustration. Borderline anger. "They're not dead."

"Maybe not, but it seems to me you got the second best thing. So, crack a smile. It might kill you, sure, but you're already dying so why does that matter?" A flash of fear. More uncertainty. All of it swallowed down by that laser focus of his.

"If you have something to say, then say it. You're already living rent free in my head. Don't pussy foot around like a Nancy." Even as L said the words, Johnny could tell he was disquieted by them. He didn't talk like that.

Johnny talked like that. "Plenty to say, but none of it is going to get through that head of yours," he dismissed with a wave of his hand. A flash of fear came from him.

Johnny knew exactly who he was. He was always, one hundred percent, completely unashamed of being exactly who he was at all times, no matter who he was meeting. As a byproduct of that, he told the truth and his opinions without any pussy footing about other people's feelings. If they couldn't handle that, then they could fuck off.

So, why did that just change? Why did he try to hide his thoughts and opinions?

Indignation swelled in Johnny. The road went both ways. "Actually, strike that -- I'm already in your head. You aren't the only one that has to deal with your bitching and moaning now. Swallow that shit down and get back to work - killing corpos. That's the one thing you're good at and the only reason I'm willing to entertain this farce." Indignation swelled in L. Or was he getting an echo of what Johnny felt?

"Hm. Then stay quiet and don't bother me," L dismissed him, making Johnny frown. If there was one thing he couldn't stand, it was being ignored.

"I-" Johnny began, about to fly off the handle, only to pause when the door opened, revealing Kaiden. L was surprised, checking his systems-

"I slipped a bug in your security," Kaiden admitted. "I figured you'd come here when you woke up so I had a notification sent to me."

L frowned while Johnny just laughed. "How'd you know I'd be here?" He asked, sounding a bit put out. To that, Kaiden simply scoffed as he entered the… Johnny wasn't even sure what to call it. But he spent most of his attention on Kaiden. He was a mainstay in the snippets of memories that Johnny saw -- looked pretty different now his skull was the right shape, but it would be a lie to say that he knew the kid well. All the same, Johnny could say that he had some respect for him.

A rebel. A real one. One grasping for a better life when he didn't even know what laid beyond that room.

"Because I've literally known you for every day of your life," came Kaiden's dry response, taking a seat on the desk that L was working at. "I know what you do when you're feeling the pressure. Like you did when we planned to escape. You played that circuit game all hours of the day, repeating the same puzzle again and again."

L looked away to focus on taking apart the thingamajig. "I had to get the time down."

"You did," Kaiden agreed. "When you feel the pressure, you just buckle down and work." That about sums it up, Johnny thought.

"You should listen to your friend. He's smarter than you are," he chimed in, only to go ignored by L. Prick. Dumb brat thought he knew everything and no one knew better than he did. It reminded Johnny of himself when he was that age, the difference being was that he actually had known better. And at least he had fun when he was self destructing.

L paid him no mind and simply grunted a response, proving Kaiden right when he continued to break down the doohickey. "There's a lot of work to do."

"There is," Kaiden agreed. "Which is why I didn't tell Jack or Becca before I left." That made L's hand pause for a brief moment, a flash of shame and regret that was quickly pushed aside. "We still have Yorinobu. Jackie left after dropping him off, but he said he wanted a word with you if you got the chance after you woke up."

Yorinobu. The rebellious son of Saburo. A poser rebel, as far as Johnny was concerned. It was easy to play the part when daddy dearest was playing with the kid gloves on. As much as Yorinobu might claim it, he hadn't been fighting in the trenches against Arasaka. Not like he had. No one fought Arasaka like he had.

"Arasaka is gone," L muttered with an edge of bitterness. "I'm not sure what good he could do for anyone now. I imagine that Saburo punished him for his treason."

"Yup. Locked and emptied his accounts, and without a megacorp with his last name on it, he's kind of useless. He says that he still has funds, though -- he always expected that his father would do something like that eventually." Kaiden agreed before pausing a moment. "Families are weird."

L nodded, "Families are weird." A pang of longing. Anger. Resentment. "It doesn't feel right leaving him in the wind, though. It didn't go to plan, but I think he hated his dad more than we did." Impossible. No one hated Saburo Arasaka like Johnny Silverhand did. And that hate ran both ways. The name Johnny Silverhand probably left Saburo waking up in cold sweats and damp sheets.

"I feel the same. I floated the idea of him picking up the pieces that Saburo hadn't sold off, but he was pretty against the idea. The only people happier about Arasaka's banishment would be Militech. I think they're planning to take Night City now that Arasaka's gone." Kaiden said, handing L a wrench that he needed it and he wordlessly took it.

"But I'm still here," L replied. For now. "I'll remind them why that's a bad idea."

"You're here for now," Kaiden said, echoing Johnny's thoughts. That made L freeze in place. You'd think Kaiden just pulled some iron on him with how he reacted. "I know," he continued, his tone telling L exactly what he knew about.

There was a long silence that was only broken by L setting the wrench down. "How'd you find out?" He asked, his voice neutral, but Johnny felt an echo of the panic that L felt. He was less bothered throwing down with Smasher. Another enemy of Johnny's. An enemy that L killed.

"Because I know you," Kaiden answered with a small shrug. "You never mentioned how close you were to dying when you checked out our medical records. That tipped me off that you didn't want to talk about it. Add that to the nose bleeds… and your power… something like that doesn't come without a cost, L."

A sigh escaped L as he half fell into his chair. "The additional brain matter produces charges, and those charges end up manifesting as tumors in my brain. A handful of them, and it's fine, but the more I use it…" he trailed off before his gaze flickered to Johnny. "The Relic- or, rather, the nanites on it, is helping ironically enough. It's healing the damage that they're doing." There was a flash of suspicion that L felt but didn't say, but his eyes flickered to him again. An action that didn't go unnoticed by Kaiden, who looked at Johnny.

A frown tugged at his lips, "...L, are you seeing someone there?" He asked and Johnny… Johnny wasn't sure what he felt, but it wasn't anything good. He was invisible. A figment of the imagination of a snot nose brat that didn't know shit about shit but was convinced he knew all about the world he needed to know.

"Hm. Silverhand. He's kind of annoying," L confessed and Johnny flipped him off.

"Right back at you," Johnny retorted.

"He's very annoying," L corrected and Kaiden's frown deepened. "I'm working on it."

Kaiden's gaze flickered to the GN Drive, his expression doubtful. "I trust you, L. If you say you're on it, then you're on it." Johnny saw it -- he didn't believe him. L didn't, who just nodded, feeling a pang of relief that Kaiden had bought the lie so easily. "And it's not going to have any side effects? You have someone stuck in your head."

L frowned and offered a small shrug, "Not as far as I can tell." More lies. "Except I have a weird craving for cheese and chips." Fucking nachos. God, what he wouldn't give for a small mountain of them.

"Nachos?" Kaiden offered and Johnny thought that said a lot -- Kaiden had been in the world for a fraction of the time, but he knew it better than L.

"Is that what they're called?" L muttered before shrugging again. "Well, beyond wanting nachos, I'm not seeing anything serious. Vik said that it would take some time for any bleed through to occur."

This gonk. "That was assuming you were a real boy, L. But you aren't, are you? No taste in music, no sense of style, no hobbies, eating the same damn thing day in and day out -- you're a blank canvas and I'm splashing all over you." Johnny stated and L didn't so much as twitch. He suspected it too. That's why his guard was all the way up. "You need to work your magic and get me the fuck out of here. There can only be one Johnny Silverhand and a sequel is never as good as the original." The very idea of it rubbed him wrong like sandpaper in all the wrong places.

Infesting another human being, taking their body like some kind of snatcher from a flick. His personality overwriting L's, killing him as a person before taking his body. It made him sick to his stomach. Even the prospect of a super power couldn't entice him -- especially since it was killing him.

Johnny's nausea went ignored and the answer did seem to reassure Kaiden a bit. "Sooner than later, right?"

"Right." To that, Kaiden thumped him on the shoulder before getting off of the desk.

"I'll leave you to it then. I'm off to check in on the kids," he informed and L felt another pang of longing that was swallowed down. "They're doing alright. Pissed to hell and back that they didn't get to throw down with Smasher, and I'm pretty sure some of them have wisened up to your game. I'd expect some trouble from them if I were you." That got a genuine sigh from L as Kaiden headed for the door.

Johnny watched him go, "He's a good friend." He remarked, feeling… not fucking jealous. Nostalgic, he supposed. Long were the days when he had friends he could count on. The ones that he could trust with the heavy shit. Ones who didn't need words to hear what went unsaid. The corpos saw to that -- first with the war, then one by one when the PTSD, radiation, and experimental drugs took them.

L wasn't special in that. He wasn't the only lab rat.

"He is," L agreed, staring at the GN Drive- fuck. He knew what it was called now. What the fuck? "I'm feeling something. I want to play something," L said, deciding to look back at him with a pinched expression. "Is that you?"

It was. "I'm itching to play the guitar," Johnny admitted… wait… if he was just a figment of L's imagination… then…? Johnny looked down at his hands and static blurred between them before his guitar appeared. That got an honest smile out of him. "Fuckin' nova," he remarked, strumming the strings.

L listened for a moment, "That's not helping me." He pointed out with some frustration.

"Don't give a shit. It's helping me," Johnny dismissed, continuing to play. L watched him for a long moment, his lips thinning with displeasure before he turned around and queued something up in that weird microwave of his. It came to life with a flash of light and- what the fuck? Was that a fucking shrink ray?! His playing stopped, gobsmacked as L casually pulled a guitar from the microwave.

"Teach me," L demanded, and Johnny knew it was a demand because it sure as shit wasn't a request. Johnny cocked an eyebrow in response, and L chewed on something for a bit, wrestling with it. The truth, he suspected. "I'm… I don't have any control over my charges. I can't force them to work. With what's happening to me… It might be that I just can't use my power to save myself, or it might be because I don't feel the pressure yet. I've never really cared if I died. It… it was never about me. It was always about them," L confessed, giving Johnny pause.

That was depressing as fuck, he decided.

"If I'm going to get you out of my head, it's not going to be for my sake," L admitted, looking down at the guitar and stuming the stings. He saw how Jonny was holding his and decided to do the exact opposite. It was genuinely hilarious to see -- he was trying to play a right-hand guitar with his left hand with his prosthetic doing the strumming and his flesh-and-blood hand doing the fingering.

"I've never taught anyone how to play," Johnny told him, caught a little flatfooted. It went right for the throat, which shouldn't surprise him since that was L's style. Directness. L was trying to save him. A cancer in his head, who he just met, and… A selfless act in place of a selfish one.

"I don't care," L dismissed the issue with a thoroughly indifferent shrug. An olive branch.

Fuck.

"Alright. Don't go thinking you're going to be half as good as me, but this here? That's the fretboard…" Johnny began, rambling off what he knew. He was self-taught, so he didn't know much about the technical stuff, but he knew a damn bit about playing. L listened attentively, nodding on occasion…

And, if Johnny had to admit it, there were worse people whose head he could be stuck in.

..."More details have come to light around the murder of- Oh, y'all don't give a damn about the fattest of fat cat politicians getting skinned, y'all got more important biz to worry about.

Like trains.

As most of y'all know, during the Konpeki Clash, the track for the Night City Metro got wrecked. At a few places. So the Metro shut down for a while. Not a big deal, I thought…

But some y'all went and lost your minds over it! Working stiffs, I could understand being upset, they gotta get to work after all, but the majority of people having a fit are just upset because they wanted to ride the train… just to ride the train.

Now, I'm a country girl at heart, so I thought I loved trains more than most, but some of you folks…

Anyway, the city's hauling ass to fix it. In the meantime, here's Hey Brother by Aviici.

~

Kaiden Alenko blew out a breath as he stepped foot on the streets of Night City. The flashes of neon illuminated the roads better than the busted out street lights ever could. He heard the unmistakable sounds of gunfire off in the distance -- something that used to put him on edge every time he heard it, expecting those bullets were meant for him. Now, he simply glanced in that direction before puzzling out how far away the shots were and decided that it wasn't his problem. Rolling his shoulders, and placing a reassuring hand on the gun at his belt, he was forced to remind himself that he had a much deadlier weapon on him at all times.

His biotics.

Turning away from the sounds of gunfire, he continued on to his destination -- Lizzie's. It had become something of a home away from home, Kaiden found. Jack was frequently there, and now a bunch of the kids were too. Probably not the best environment for them, if Kaiden was being completely honest with himself, but it was a good place for them to experience the overwhelming world that was Night City.

Venturing down the streets, he reflected just how much they had changed in his brief time out of the orphanage. They were worse than when he first saw them by a pretty big margin. As Nora liked to say, the streets were hot, and in the past few months, there hadn't been a day where they weren't sweltering. As he made his way, a car chase rounded the corner -- 6th Street and Tyger Claws. Biotic energy rippled around Kaiden and the few bystanders that stood by him, deflecting bullets that flew in a wide angle as the Tyger Claws… what was it… sprayed and prayed?

Frowning to himself, he lifted a hand up and the front end of the car the Tyger Claws were in followed, the back wheels spinning out as the car flipped due to its own momentum. Kaiden would have been content to leave it at that, but as the Tyger Claws got out of the car, they turned to him. "Target M acquired!" One of them announced and he realized who they were. Mercenaries. Arasaka soldiers that had been placed in Tyger Claw attire to slip into Night City. He wasn't sure if they were acting on Arasaka orders or if they had found new masters to serve.

Biotic energy condensed into the palm of his hands before he flung it out, skewering through a man and the car he tried to use for cover. It was a poor position for the small squad of mercenaries masquerading as gangsters, because the 6th Street band that they had been chasing for one reason or another had come to a screeching halt and unleashed a wave of gunfire in their direction. The streets became filled with the sound of gunfire, the car getting riddled with holes. The mercenaries did have quality implants, but there were just too many bullets flying at them.

They were ripped to shreds and Kaiden met the gaze of the leader of the 6th Dtreet group -- an older man with a cowboy hat on. There was a moment of tension before he inclined his head at Kaiden, which he returned. They went their separate ways before the 6th Street tossed a grenade into the car and blew it up, leaving it in the middle of the road. It was just another burnt out car. The drivers in the road barely looked at it on their way to where they were going.

"There is something wrong with this city," Kaiden muttered under his breath before glancing down at the palm of his hand. That something was getting worse. The streets were just unsafe, and calling them unsafe felt like an understatement. He wasn't really helping there, Kaiden admitted. He had just killed a man and walked away. It wasn't his first kill and it wouldn't be his last. In the time since L went under and the dissolvement of Arasaka, the attacks got a little more frequent, but Kaiden knew that there would be nothing on the squad. No trace of who was paying them.

Frowning to himself, he thought on what he saw. Adam Smasher. A ruined building afloat, flinging enough rubble that buildings across the docks were getting smacked and half destroyed. That was a power that was beyond him. Smasher had been in a completely different league. The battle was like something out of a legend and everyone was enraptured with it, even if it did destroy a chunk of the city to the extent that even days later, they were still pulling people out of the rubble. And that was with the help of biotics like himself.

Was.

A sigh escaped him as his feet carried him to his destination, a thousand and one things Weighing on his mind. A thousand and two things that needed doing. Slowly, the streets started to transform as he neared Lizzie's. It was a subtle thing at first, and it certainly didn't extend all over Chinatown, but things were… less terrible. Fewer burnt out cars. Fewer buildings covered with bullet holes. The reason for it was evident enough.

"Hey'ya, Kaiden!" The gap tooth smile of thirteen year old X-13 greeted him. He wore a child sized flack jacket, his mohawk was making a serious effort to be every single shade of the color spectrum while a sized down assault rifle hung from his shoulders. He was joined by a handful of other increasingly ridiculous looking kids that held down the corner. It was meant to be a safe assignment, but based on the pockmarks in the flack, that safety was relative.

"Keeping an eye out for trouble?" Kaiden greeted them.

"You betcha," X answered, and he would never forgive Nora for discovering country music because the accent acted like a disease with how infectious it was. Kaiden wasn't even sure why. "Ain't seen so much of a hair of 'em Claws. Ya' reckon that they'll try sumthin' soon?" X asked hopefully, looking off the way at the surveillance that the Claws had on the area. The kids were eager for violence.

L's example. An unwitting one. They saw how violence was glorified. They saw him attack those that had kept them in a cage. Before, they were ignorant of the highs of the world -- video games, drinking, hanging out, forms of self expression. They felt robbed. And they were looking to follow in L's footsteps by expressing themselves with violence and blood.

"I'd keep an eye out, but I wouldn't expect anything," Kaiden said, much to their immense disappointment. One of them kicked a piece of rubble, heads down until their chins were touching their chests.

"Are ya' sure?" X tried, "Won't be no trouble. We've been planning attacks all over Tyger Claws territory. There won't be any survivors. Honest!' X tried to haggle a yes and Kaiden wished he could say that he was surprised by the kids planning to destroy the Tyger Claws. After all, L did it. And, as far as they could see, L could do no wrong.

Kaiden felt a headache forming, reaching out and tapping X on the side of the head, hitting the amp that wrapped around the back of his skull. "No aggressive moves. The city is bad enough without dumping more fuel to the fire, yeah?"

"What you on about? Night City is great!" X protested, but didn't argue the direct order. They all had extensive military training. Every single one. It would be a big stretch to call them all soldiers, but the kids were comfortable with the chain of command. There was no official structure beyond L being at the top, himself and Jack being somewhere below him, and generally doing what those older than you said.

Kaiden let out a hum as X smacked his hand away when he went to ruffle his mohawk. He was a bit worried about the kids breaking ranks -- they had freedom, but they hadn't really tested boundaries yet. That would start happening soon. However, as a price to be on the streets, there were some basic implant requirements to ensure their safety. Those implants were high tier, but everyone was so used to seeing themselves getting taken apart that the inherent dangers of implants were lost on them. Add that to the fact that every kid was now a biotic? Well… he was more worried about the messes they would make than he was about them getting hurt.

Chuckling to himself, he let them be and continued on to the club that served as the HQ for the Mox. He saw other groups of kids, all armed to the teeth, and saw some of them talking with the sex workers that they protected. It was a symbiotic relationship, Kaiden figured. The kids weren't formally Mox, but they took the job of protecting the guys and girls extremely seriously. That gave the Mox strength. The sex workers, however… humanized the kids. Talked to them. Doted on them. They showed them what it was to live in the world -- the good, the bad, and the ugly.

"Yo, Kaiden," Rita, the door woman for the Mox, greeted him.

"Heya, Kaiden," A-15, or Ally greeted soon after.

"Hey. Anything I should know before I step in?" Kaiden greeted them and Rita just chuckled.

"A lot of scheming is going on. Oh, and we've been having some problems with your boy's poser gang. Most of them are alright because L said he liked the Mox. But some of em' are just wearing the threads to set shit on fire," Rita informed with a small shrug of her shoulders, as if to say 'what can you do?'

Not what he wanted to hear, but what he expected. "We'll take care of it," Kaiden reassured as he entered the club.

"Know you will, K." Rita said as he left. K. He remembered the K of his year. It felt weird getting called that. Dismissing the errant thought, he found that the club was in full swing despite the early and late hour. The music pumped, people danced, there were people zoned out as they got a BD. Despite the thumping of the music, Kaiden found that people stepped out of his way -- if not because they knew his face, then because the amp that marked the back of his skull was a sure sign. It was convenient, letting him continue down to Punching Judy's lair in the basement.

"-way out of my league. I didn't even want to be the boss of the Mox, and now… what? You want-" Kaiden heard Judy say before he rounded the corner. She cut herself off to look at him, and instantly, he felt all eyes on him -- Becca, Jack, and Yorinobu. Falco was off taking care of the Aldecaldo's kids. The source of the Texan infestation.

He knew the question they all had. "He's fine. He needs some space, but he's fine." Kaiden said, not entirely sure if the words were true. L… he was his best friend. They grew up together -- were forced to -- but even when they had been M and L 5, they had been friends. They didn't know him, Kaiden was forced to remind himself. They didn't know the him from before. Before his ability manifested. Before that glimmer of hope that they could escape ignited and all of it rested on his shoulders.

Becca face-palmed, "Why am I exclusively attracted to idiots?" She grumbled, running her temples with her fingers, trying to soothe the headache that was brewing. "Not so much as a 'hey, I'm not in a coma anymore?'" She grumbled and Jack was right there with her.

Yorinobu paid them little mind, however, seemingly vaguely relieved but not much more. "Did L-san say anything about his plans going forward?" Yorinobu asked, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw Judy roll her eyes to the ceiling. It seemed like the conversation had been going in circles and, ultimately, it all hinged on L and his actions.

"Nothing concrete beyond that he'll be there if Militech tries to retake the city," Kaiden said, closing the door and leaning on the wall next to it. Yorinobu was a weird guy. They had mutual goals, but every time Kaiden spoke to the man, he felt… corpo.

"The city is in shambles," Yorinobu began, sitting straight in his seat with his hands clasped together in his lap. "As things are, the collapse of Night City is imminent. Night Corp has been surprisingly effective in picking up the pieces, but they alone cannot hope to stabilize the city. I was speaking to Alvarez-san about expanding her control beyond Chinatown." He began but Judy was quick to interject.

"We aren't the police. We're a protection gang, sure, but for sex workers and dolls," Judy dug her heels in. She didn't want the responsibility. It was evident enough. And fair. According to Becca, Judy was more than happy to stay a porn editor.

"I'm afraid that you're already more effective than the police," Yorinobu replied, his tone mournful. "Their budget came from Arasaka. They managed to coast in fumes for a week, but now they're just another gang on the streets. Only a handful have proven any dedication to the oaths that they took."

Kaiden tilted his head at that, "Got any names?" He asked, bringingYorinobu's attention to him.

"River Ward and his immediate associates. As far as I can see, he has a keen eye for picking out the clean members amongst the police force. It is tense now, but when the funding for the police on all levels runs out, we will see them get… creative in finding ways to pay their salaries," Yorinobu said and Kaiden believed him on that. He had heard a lot about it on the streets. Cops were already corrupt according to everyone, but now that thin veneer of legitimacy was being tossed out the window. There were cops that went around collecting protection fees, shaking down pedestrians and threatening them with jail time unless they paid to stay out of prison.

At least, that's what he heard. He hadn't seen it himself, but that could just be because he avoided the cops as a matter of principle. They had been largely funded by Arasaka, after all.

"The police are necessary. If not the police, then another policing force because they were the ones that would show up if you got into a gunfight on a busy street. Soon… people will be able to act with complete immunity. It will be total anarchy in Night City and, at that point, it would be better if the NUSA did reclaim it." Yorinobu stated in no uncertain terms, making Becca's expression twist while Judy bit her lip.

Jack, however, was less than convinced. "Been that way since the start. The city is just being a little more honest now."

Yorinobu's lips thinned. "You benefit from the current circumstances. You are a biotic and, until recently, you were the strongest one." Jack bristled, clenching her jaw. She didn't care for being dethroned. Especially in such an irrefutable way. "Millions will not. They have suffered needlessly already. Things will get worse before they get better, and if nothing is done, it won't ever get better. Night City will be condemned as a Combat Zone. The only consolation is that the NUSA is unlikely to build a wall around the city out of fear of L."

Judy looked away when Yorinobu looked at her, uncomfortable with the responsibility being placed on her shoulders. Kaiden met his gaze, however. The weight of lives was a familiar one to him. The difference between him and L, though… was that it was a lot harder for him to draw a line between those he cared about and those he didn't. "I hear you," Kaiden replied and Yorinobu did seem relieved at that, letting out a breath that he had been holding. "I think Night City getting condemned as a Combat Zone is a forgone conclusion, though. At the very least, we'd end up being treated like one."

Combat Zones were where law and order had completely collapsed. No one was allowed in, no one was allowed out. No shipments of food, water, or supplies. The Combat Zones were simply packaged up, shelved, and occasionally checked on to see if enough people had died to retake the territory.

Arasaka had pulled funding, but a number of other megacorporations were still here. But, when L turned his sights to them, they would quickly scatter and cut their losses. After all, it would only be a matter of time before they were forced out.

Yorinobu's lips thinned, but he didn't disagree, so Kaiden continued. "What do you need? What's your plan?" He asked, agreeing something had to be done. What that something was… was self-sufficiency. L wouldn't like it. It would just be a bigger cage to him, but Night City getting condemned as a Combat Zone could work in their favor if they were ready for it.

"With the murder of Mayor Royce, the position is open," Yorinobu began. Mayor Royce. Kaiden didn't know a damn thing about the man, but what he did know was that there were a lot of questions about his death. He saw a glimpse of the murder scene from a BD -- the walls were painted with blood and Royce had been torn apart limb from limb. "Jefferson Peralez has announced his candidacy and… I will run against him. I have the name, the funding, and with a little luck, I can gather what is left of my father's company and bring it to Night City."

Arasaka hadn't been able to sell everything. Not all at once. There were bits and pieces that were free floating, ripped off from the greater whole. "Will you be that lucky?"

"I thought you hated being a corpo," Jack asked, her tone sharp with disdain.

"I hate what my father's company did. How it destroyed lives for the sake of profits," Yorinobu replied, his tone just as sharp. "And it will be unlikely that I get all of it, or convince most to move to Night City. Still, it will be something. What I need from L-san, however, is… something. Something to campaign on. Technology that can rebuild the city, such as the GN drive." Yorinobu stated and…

L's tech was to destroy. To kill. Big lasers. Implants made to survive a fight or to hit harder. Everything he had built was to destroy the enemy and the enemy was the world, if felt like at times. Anything that could create or sustain was an unintended side effect of that goal. And with everything… the timeframe that David gave was coming up in a few weeks. If that wasn't enough, then L… L was dying. Only he, Vik, and L knew it.

L had enough on his plate.

"I'll try to talk him around on giving a mark one GN Drive to the city," he wouldn't give a more advanced model simply because he feared it being used against him. A Mk. 1 would be something he had on hand, most likely. No need to create something new. No need to use another charge. L didn't need to take another step toward death.

"I dare not ask for more. My thanks, Alenko-san," Yorinobu offered him a small bow. His gaze slid to Judy, who held up a hand.

"I'll do what I can, but I'm not going to make any promises. The kids are with the Mox for safety and cuz L wanted them out of trouble. I can't go ordering them to put on badges and patrol the neighborhoods." No, but if Kaiden was being honest, they were a few days away from doing that anyway. "My people come first. Hate to say it, but that's how it is." Kaiden understood that too.

It was easy to deny help when helping another, someone you didn't know, someone who could end up being a threat, when it could put the people that you care about in danger. All the same, sometimes not offering that helping hand could make the danger worse.

"I'll reach out to River Ward," Kaiden decided. If the police were going to collapse into another gang, then he might as well pick the diamonds out of the pile of shit and see if he could set something up. "It'd be good to have a contact in the police no matter what."

Yorinobu wasn't surprised by the decision. If Kaiden had to guess, that offer was fully expected because he had an answer ready. "He is currently investigating the death of Mayor Royce. As I understand, there are no leads. Beyond the fact that it was possibly a wild animal that killed him." That… was a little odd, to Kaiden's understanding. Animals were dead. Well, not all of them, but in Night City, the only animals you were likely to see were pets for rich people. Kaiden would have sooner expected that they'd accuse Maelstrom or the other Animals, the steroid junkies.

Kaiden nodded, accepting the information before his gaze slid to Becca and Jack. They shared a look before Judy spoke up. "They have their own thing going. A favor for me," Judy said, her tone guarded, telling Kaiden that any questions would be unwelcome. Becca offered a small nod, and he took that as a sign that they had it handled.

A small sigh escaped him as he pushed off the door. "I'll get to work then," he said, giving everyone a wave goodbye. He was taking his slice of the pie. His fair share of the work needed to secure the future. If L was dying… if he couldn't save himself… then they needed a plan B. L was determined to take the lion's share of the work, and Kaiden couldn't even imagine how tiring that must be because he already felt exhausted.

Still, it was work worth doing.

...