18: Infestation

— Atom —

Kyber-spice was the curse that Never. Fucking. Quit…

I hated the stuff with every fiber of my being. I hated how it kept popping back up. I hated how it seemed to spread no matter what — like some sort of memetic infection. I hated the way I felt just being around it. I hated what it did — that cruel parody of a Force connection. I hated the dangers at play should the curse continue unopposed. I hated what it represented — a testament to the abominable arrogance of the Hutts. Most of all, I hated how so many people seemed unable to see how fucked up it was.

Neither Side of the Force seemed to begrudge my hatred. The Dark was in full agreement, of course. It thrived on hatred. But even the compassionate Light didn't seem to disagree. It didn't lower itself to hatred — couldn't — but it certainly didn't approve of the kyber-spice curse.

Both Sides wished to see the damned spice stomped out. Anyone with a pulse in the Force could sense that much. When it came to kyber-spice, the Force was hurting. It was torn, eaten through, and rawly run ragged. Kyber-spice was responsible for that.

I'd been quick to burn the spice to nothingness the first time. That was the inciting incident. It… led to everything else I now had, and it'd helped for a time. With Zorba dead and his stash burned, the Force was able to take a breath. Yet just as quickly, it resurged. Once more, the Force found itself choking.

Idiots. Idiots, gonks, and fools, oh-fucking-my… They couldn't seem to help themselves when it came to kyber-spice. They looked at it and saw potential where there was only danger and damnation. They thought they could use it for profit or to give themselves advantages that their rivals couldn't match.

In a very real way, Militech's involvement was worse than the Clans'. The Hutts were in it for the former — profit. Militech wanted the latter more than anything else. They wanted advantages, to twist the Force to their corpo bidding through kyber-spice. They were playing with fire. But then, what else was new for a megacorp?

I'd been in decently high spirits before finding Militech's kyber-spice lab. The raid had gone well, a decisive victory for the Gonk Cartel. We'd taken casualties, of course, but less than expected. Once the lieutenants began to surrender to Maine, the grunts, recruits, and other fodder practically jumped at the chance to lay down their arms.

Arasaka's appearance had been a surprise, but not a majorly detrimental one. They kept out of the way of our people, just there to do their mission and get out. And the third party to the raid did bring certain benefits. Namely, V and Smasher.

Of course, they were more personal than anything else, and they weren't without a price. The loss of Shaitan stung. I promised myself and Shaitan that I'd repay what Smasher had done to our Full-Borg. It was a proper duel between Full-Borgs and Shaitan didn't seem all that put out by his fate (a fate that I would ensure was temporary). But Smasher had still fucked up one of mine. It was only right for me to fuck him up in return.

Then… there was V. That bad fucking bitch. She… caught my attention, to say the least. During our first meeting, I hadn't paid her much mind. A mere curiosity to see her by Smasher's side knowing what I did about her and her potential. The second time, I couldn't have ignored her even if I wanted to.

I wouldn't hesitate to admit she was my type of woman. Of course, my taste was properly diverse — ranging from Becca to Master Fucking Fay… But V still ticked several of my boxes. Good style with tomboy vibes, banging looks, preem violence on demand, and a cocky (for good reason), teasing, rather straightforward personality that I couldn't help but find irresistible.

Our meet-and-greet fight only made me more interested. I wanted to continue fighting her. I wanted to keep flirting. I wanted to see our relationship inevitably evolve into passionate, freaky fucking. Unfortunately, our second meeting had been cut short just like our first. As if kyber-spice wasn't fucked up enough, it had ventured into cockblocking me.

The moment I found kyber-spice in Militech's base, it required the majority of my attention. It was immediately obvious that they weren't just collecting the stuff. They were experimenting with it. Looking to improve and splice it with Night City combat drugs. And if that wasn't a recipe for disaster, I didn't know what was.

Fuck if I knew their actual plans, though. The Militech execs would undoubtedly be keeping those tight to their chests. But what little I'd seen already had my mind racing to unsettling places. Combat kyber-spice, sold to the highest bidder. Proper powers for a price, not the more passive high of kyber-spice alone. Forced-out corpo samurai. An epidemic engineered and tuned for combat in a city already prone to preem violence.

I hadn't hesitated for a second to permanently silence every Militech scientist working on the stuff. They weren't guilty of the worst of it — the planning and plotting left to their exec overlords — but they were guilty of enough. And I couldn't afford to let what they'd done and what they might know spread.

I spent the rest of the raid burning my second stash of kyber-spice to the ground. I sniffed out every grain of that damned spice in the base and gathered it all up. There were fucking pounds of the stuff… Some portions were already spliced with this or that combat drug as prototypes. I took pleasure in viciously ripping apart every ounce at the molecular level with Force Alchemy.

Of course, by the time I was done, V, Smasher, and their Arasaka samurai were long gone. And of course, Smasher had taken Shaitan's still-living head and biopod with him as a trophy. While Shaitan said he would be fine, it still didn't sit right with me. I already knew I'd be seeking Smasher out something fierce in the coming days. V, too, but I had a very different outcome in mind for me and her…

The raid ran its course after that. Putting Becca in charge… I wouldn't call it a mistake. But I doubted Militech would agree with my stance there. She'd torn through any remaining resistance with her usual brand of rimbo violence. Other than those smart enough to surrender, there was nothing left of the mil-base's defenses. Shot, stabbed, and exploded, Becca had taken to her task with gusto.

By the point I rejoined the crew, only cleanup was left. Prisoners were being organized. Bodies were being rounded up and identified. I had no real beef with the grunts and recruits. They deserved, if not proper burials, then at least to be recognized and for their next of kin to be informed. Thankfully, we now had Militech's records to work with on that front.

In a very real way, the work only began after we evicted Militech and took the mil-base for ourselves. I'd freely admit to passing off the busy work to Sstala. It was where she thrived, after all. Records were quickly written up, both for the Militech soldiers and our own, and several thousand calls were set to be made. It was the right thing to do.

For the rest — the survivors and victors — the battlefield quickly turned into a proper celebration. A Night City party. Gangs and Ganks, the Gonk Cartel was tied together by bloodshed now. Tied together by victory. We staked our claim over the base like that, turning death into progress.

The party raged through the rest of the night and throughout the whole next day. It was the least the Gonk Cartel could do to keep the celebrations fully stocked. Music, drinks, and the less harmful brands of spice, we spared no expense for the men and women who fought for us.

Then, the Nomads joined our Ganks and Gangers, and things quickly got out of hand from that point. But as our people partied, I couldn't join in on the festivities. There was always more work to be done. Now more than ever, with Militech's kyber-spice reveal. I skipped sleep and raced to inform the Jedi of the fucked up development we were now facing.

"Combat… kyber-spice…?" Quinlan asked when I told him, his voice strained.

They hadn't had time to make much progress. The most they'd done was begin to identify suppliers for the more 'mundane' version of Night City's blooming kyber-spice epidemic. As we already knew, the Hutts were behind the main push of it. Trickles of the stuff were being smuggled into Night City and to dealers with the perfect amount of sense and reason (read: about as much as a Hutt…).

The infiltrations of those minor operations hadn't yet begun. More prep work was needed — investigations, interrogations, and the like. The Jedi Sentinels were very good at what they did, but they weren't miracle workers. At least, not in the span of a day and change. With or without the Force, time was still needed to set things in motion. Time I wasn't sure we had anymore…

"Fucking worrying as that thought is," I confirmed with a grunt. "And not just any combat spice. This is Night City-grade shit. The kind of stuff that fuels our boosters and dorphers. Stim, Boost, Speedheal, Dorph, Juice, Berserker, and Black-Fucking-Lace… Night City never does anything 'normal'. It's tuned up to 11 or nothing."

Aayla's brow furrowed in concern, "That is… worrying… Yes, worrying, to say the least. I wouldn't trust anyone with kyber-spice experimentation. Certainly not a militarized megacorporation. The Hutts were bad enough…"

"Fucking corpos…" I grumbled.

"Most troublesome in my mind is that the creation of more kyber-spice hasn't ceased," Fay said. "I had hoped that wasn't the case. That the recipe and source had been lost. A foolish hope, it seems."

"… I wasn't thorough enough," I admitted. "I should've done more. It's my fault this shit persists."

"Perhaps. But perhaps there was nothing to be done from the start," Fay consoled. "The secret could very well have been leaked from its conception. It is the kind of secret that is impossible to fully contain, what with its misguided potential for profit and such. No, I believe you did everything you reasonably could have, Atom."

"Agree to disagree… Whatever," I shook off my doubts. "The only thing that really matters is where we go from here."

"Aye, that is wise," Quinlan nodded. "We'll have to factor Militech's involvement into our investigations. Their business is a touch more pressing than the Hutts and their minor distributors. Do we know if they're cooking the kyber-spice themselves?"

"No shot," I immediately refuted the idea. "The Hutts are deplorable and incompetent, but they know their spice. Even if they sell the stuff, they'll know to keep the recipe to themselves. We can count on their greed and need for some modicum of control on that front."

"Yet," Aayla commented. "A supply of kyber-spice was undeniably part of the deal they cut with Militech. So Militech has a source of the spice, but not the source. How troublesome… the true origin of all the kyber-spice we deal with is still the Hutts, but the most pressing version of it comes from another party."

"Cut off the former and the latter will flounder," Quinlan pointed out.

I argued, "It's not that simple. We can't reach the Hutts and their operation yet. Not while we're rebuilding and gathering strength. We're left treating symptoms until we can."

"I'd say Militech and their new version of kyber-spice is a worthy symptom to 'treat'," Fay said, slight amusement in her voice.

"Definitely," I agreed. "And it's relatively easy for us to get to them. I burned their primary lab and the stash there to the ground. All they have left in Night City is their corpo offices. Give us another week and we'll have pushed them out of the city completely."

"Aren't you worried about them smuggling their research off-moon and continuing it elsewhere?" Aayla asked.

"…" I paused. "I'll give orders to have every Militech ship trying to leave Night City shot down. Keep 'em contained, keep 'em desperate, and they'll be easy pickings."

"And what of the prototypes that already exist?" Quinlan asked as well. "I imagine they kept some in their offices as well as the base. With how desperate they'll quickly become, Militech might just seek to use those prototypes, finished or not."

"I thought of that one, too," I grumbled in agreement. "The best solution I have is to assign a Force Sensitive to every team dealing with Militech. We're going to keep pressing them, so we'll just have to be ready for potential Force Tweakers at any time."

"Force Tweakers…" Aayla shook her head, creeping horror in her voice. "Kriff, what a horrible concept…"

"Trust me, they're as bad as they sound," I confirmed. "You'll know them when you sense them, too. The one I killed turned into what was essentially a pseudo-wound in the Force. Fortunately, the Force practically jumps at the chance to end them when that happens. Against a Force Tweaker, you'll always have the will of the Force on your side."

Fay's words and tone were heavy when she spoke, "Yet ending those damned souls and the wounds they become is only the beginning. That alone is not enough. The Force aches, my friends. It is rendered raw and ragged. But together, we can help. We can heal. I wish to soothe the Force's suffering, to lead us in communion and meditation. I would ask that you all join me."

"You don't have to ask me twice!" Aayla eagerly agreed.

"To put this subtly, Master Fay," Quinlan deadpanned. "We would likely follow to the ends of the Force and back if you lit the way."

Fay blushed, "O-Oh my… I didn't realize you held such respect for me, young Knights."

I rolled my eyes, "Not like they grew up hearing stories and legends of you or anything."

She gave me the slightest of pouts, "It is still somewhat surprising. Something worth celebrating and praising. Faith is always special."

"…" I had to glance away from the enticing, stirring scene — pouting goth elf-goddess, be strong my heart… — admitting, "Yeah, I guess it is."

"Wonderful~!" Fay beamed. "Shall we?"

"I'm not sure I'm qualified for this," I noted.

"Nonsense!" Fay gasped, actually gasped. "You are a follower of the Force in your own way, Atom. It will welcome your aid. I know that much as surely as I breathe."

"David's out partying with Nomads, and I'm going to be here… meditating…" I grumbled. "Fine. What do you need me to do?"

"Sit with us," Fay instructed. "Join your presence with ours. I shall light the way. You must only follow along and contribute in your unique way."

I knew it couldn't be that simple, but I didn't argue anymore. Space was cleared on the floor of my newly claimed 'throne room' apartment. At the very least, we'd be doing this in normal-ass comfort. Fay even allowed pillows to sit or kneel on. The preparations were much more mundane than I expected. More like friends sitting around in a smoke circle than some grand meditation ceremony.

Once seated, we didn't join hands or anything. Quinlan, Aayla, and I found ourselves… simply waiting. The Jedi Knights undoubtedly knew more of what to expect. They moved to close their eyes and settle themselves into the Force. But Fay stopped them with action.

It started as a spark. Immediately, the beacon caught light, growing and growing. It shined right out of Fay, consuming all four of us. We didn't settle ourselves into the greater Force, we were cast into it by Fay. Our surroundings changed, the world itself elevated, and I couldn't help but follow along as she'd instructed.

The change came naturally. Easily. And still, suddenly. Master Fay's Light cast darkness all around us. Not shadows, but the darkness of space lit by an infinite expanse of stars in every direction as we were plunged into the greater Force. Existing in the Force was as simple as thinking. 'I think, therefore I am' type shit, but impossible to dismiss as a mere philosophical quandary.

"Come, and let us focus our minds, our connections, our presences. Together, my young friends," Fay said softly. "We give ourselves to the Force in aid against the pestilence."

She said that, and she led by example. I could feel her coming into sharp focus in the Force. Her dedication to helping — to healing — was intense. Her mind turned to kyber-spice and kyber-spice alone. And with that focus, a switch was flipped.

From the darkness, sounds could be heard — skittering, chittering, flittering sounds… Millions and millions of little limbs. Millions and millions of 'lives'. In the darkness just out of sight, the Force's infestation made itself known. Pests. Creepy crawlers. Unborn fucking bugs that scuttered about without rest or peace.

They came suddenly. They came ceaselessly. Never venturing into view, but always there. A dozen twitches at the edge of sight and sense. A hundred mites that disappeared the moment we turned our heads. A thousand tiny threats scrambling and scurrying in the voids of the Force.

It was an unsettling sensation, to be constantly watched by uncountable insectile eyes. Those buggy souls that had been stolen from their hives, from their very eggs — they watched and skittered and gnawed. They were an infestation in the purest sense of the word. Unborn larvae and more trapped in looted kyber crystals, left with nowhere to go and nothing to do but burrow and eat.

The bugs — kinrath, if I remembered Sstala's initial reports correctly — would never know life. The chance was stolen from them before they could ever hatch. But they persisted still, trapped beyond the peace of proper passing by their violent, un-asked-for abortions. And when the Force crystals that held their souls were crushed and processed into kyber-spice, the millions and millions of larvae grew mad with frenzy.

They acted on all they knew. Instincts that should've come naturally to them in life. A natural order imparted on their very unborn souls. They skittered, chittered, and flittered through the Force itself. They carved themselves a sort of hive. And they fed. Not on flesh or plant matter, but on the fabric of not-magic. On the Force and the souls of those who consumed the kyber-spice from whence they came.

When one of us spoke, it wasn't with words. Our physical bodies were left behind and below, connected by threads but temporarily removed from us. Communication came in thoughts and feelings, emotions and ideas. And like that, I knew exactly what was on my companions' minds.

"By the Force…" Aayla was horrified. Viscerally and genuinely horrified.

"… I hate bugs. They're alien and brutal, and they get everywhere," Quinlan's 'tone' was flat, but it couldn't hide his earnest disquiet.

"I find that I couldn't agree more," I muttered.

"They are victims in this, too," Fay chided gently, her compassion shining through her words.

"Victims and the source of the issue," I argued.

Sadness and regret radiated from Fay as she replied, "They have been given no other choice. They only act on what they know. I cannot find it in myself to blame them, even as they desecrate the Force itself."

"How… do we even heal this…?" Aayla asked shakily. "How… do we even… help…?"

"We soothe and we show them another way. A better way," Fay answered. "We guide them gently into their goodnights."

"For you, maybe," I retorted. "That's way out of my usual area of expertise. There has to be something else I can do."

"Nay, Atom," Fay denied. "Insects do not know domination or submission as mammals do. They are creatures of a hive, not animals of a pack. Their natural lives exist on a distinctly 'other' level from all we know and take for granted. Their natural order is one of struggle until the very end, of survival and nothing more. They cannot be cowed. They cannot be integrated. They cannot be intimidated, not in the way you know. The only way to restore peace and harmony is for them to cease to be."

"So, what? We just start stomping?" I asked.

Fay, surprisingly, just nodded, "Indeed. Crudely put, but yes, we simply start stomping."

Aayla's disbelief rang like a bell between us, "Stomp-… Huh?!"

"Quick, final ends are the best thing we can give them," Fay elaborated, regretful but firm. "Paradoxically, the most brutal method is also the gentlest. It truly is as simple as… stomping until there is nothing left to stomp."

"That… will be a lot of bugs to stomp…" Quinlan noted.

"Correct," Fay nodded. "This won't be the work of a single session. But once we clear the way somewhat, we can begin knitting together all that they've damaged. Once we begin, so too can the true healing."

I chuckled, "So just get stomping. Nothing more to it."

"Follow my Light," Fay gently instructed. "I shall illuminate paths to the worst of the damage."

With the barest moment of focus, Fay cast a shining beacon up and away. It reached past our little meditation circle and lit the way into the rest of the Force. The first thing it illuminated had me — all of us — recoiling in disgust and horror. Even Fay flinched.

A writhing, wriggling mat inhabited the local Force. A terrible thing of a thousand-thousand tiny abominations. Each individual abomination seemed to suck in both Light and Dark. As they did, they fed. They nibbled and gnawed, chewing and biting and tearing at the Force and the lights and shadows of living souls within it. Unborn hunger without end.

I lashed out on instinct, without thinking twice. My astral foot rose and came back down as a massive, projected boot of Force. Motes of Light and Dark were thrown up as I stomped out at the infestation. Nibbled slivers of the Force itself began to float freely with nowhere else to go.

More and more motes were thrown up as I stomped again and again. Fuck! I just wanted that shit gone! The infestation was unnatural. It shouldn't have been. I did everything in my power to cull its numbers and strength.

But even as thousands of unborn larvae were smashed into particles of what they'd eaten, I knew it was only the beginning. Kyber-spice and its infestation had spread and spread until they covered the entirety of the local Force around Nar Shaddaa. Single stomps barely made a dent. Even as Aayla, Quinlan, and Fay joined me, we struggled to see real progress.

Where the infestation once was, torn and tattered fabric was revealed. Holes bitten straight through to the void. Just that was enough for the Force to breathe a sigh of relief. But the damage remained. It lingered and festered until Fay began treating it.

Our bug stomping was put on pause as she lovingly and carefully sewed gnawed through holes back together. The thrown-up motes, the nibbled slivers, slowly settled as Fay coaxed them into their proper places in the weave. I noted what she did and how she did it. As did Aayla and Quinlan. Together, we copied Fay and began to contribute.

It was exhausting, soul-draining work. But far from thankless. The Force favored us for the effort we were putting in. It flocked to our beacon and helped us along. We settled into a rhythm. Illuminate. Stomp. Knit. Heal. Press on. Repeat. In that rhythm, I began to sense… more.

I recognized the physical world as it corresponded to the Force — in the Force. Bit by bit, the Force around Night City was purged of its infestation. It culminated 'above' what I could sense to be the mil-base. The emotions of celebration there were impossible to mistake for anything else. But at the same time, that was where the worst of Night City's metaphysical damage was.

Militech's experiments with kyber-spice had taken a toll. A greater concentration than anywhere else in the city. As we stomped out the bugs there, a gaping hole was revealed. No, a hive. Worse still, the bugs around the combat kyber-spice lab fought back.

"Ew. Ew. Ew. Ew," Quinlan punctuated each of his stomps with flat exclamations of tightly leashed emotion. "I think I've discovered my personal Hell."

"I don't blame you, Master," Aayla chuckled awkwardly, her whole being stiff with tension. A small swarm of incensed bugs buzzed past her head and she swore, "And they're flying now?!"

"Fucking burn," I swore as well. "Burn them fucking all in fucking fire!"

"I didn't know you were familiar with Force Pyrokinesis, Atom," Fay commented, infuriatingly casual about the whole ordeal.

"Give me a day and I will be just for this," I grumbled.

"It's really a rather simple technique," Fay said, demonstrating. "Essentially just very delicate telekinesis. A simple *SNAP* and-…"

She trailed off and her next stomp came down flaming. Force Flames in the fucking Force spread quickly, like a wave out from her fiery stomp. In moments, the whole hive was consumed by Forcing fire.

"That," Quinlan immediately jumped on the Force Fire method. "Is much more efficient than just stomping. Much preferable, too. I would enthusiastically suggest we all train Force Pyrokinesis if you're willing to teach it, Master Fay."

Fay giggled, "I suppose I can part with a bit of specialized knowledge."

Healing the damage done by combat kyber-spice turned out to be something of a struggle, too. There, the holes themselves resisted our efforts. Not by the will of the rest of the Force, but by the nature of how they were made. The concept of 'FIGHT' infused the damage there, and though we overcame it, we didn't do so without… well, a fight.

While that spelled the end of Night City's major Force damage, it was still a small part of the Nar Shaddaa whole. By then, though, we were exhausted. Quite literally drained of both mind and soul. The Force was forgiving, urging us to wait and recover before we continued. It understood.

Still, before we returned to our bodies, Fay sent her beacon 'up' and we turned our gazes outward to see what else we'd be dealing with in the healing/stomping/burning sessions to come. Immediately, it didn't look good. The infestation festered outside of Night City. And in the distance, we saw a particularly gruesome concentration of it.

Another hive presented the worst of the worst-case scenarios. It lingered around a location, but at the center of that location and the hive, there was an undeniably living light and shadow in the Force. Frustration and concern wound tight in my chest for a moment before the Force itself caught me and pulled me along. Straight toward the living black hole at the center of that hive…

In moments, I found myself in a body that wasn't my own. It was massive and sprawled out beneath me. A slug's body… I was left to ride along in a Hutt's POV as they shoveled kyber-spice into their mouth, nose, and even ears by the ounce. There was a strong, latent connection to the Force there from the start. And with the damn-near constant influx of kyber-spice, the slug's already significant weight in the Force grew as the infestation falsely boosted it.

For now, though, the Force Tweaking slug retained its wits — as much as that could be said for a Hutt — and a voice that wasn't mine rumbled, grumbled, and groaned.

"The latest batch failed as well? Weaklings. Pathetic sapients. They barely withstood an ounce in the hotbox before cracking. It was the berserker strain, yes? Good… They can still be of some use, then. Turn them loose. Whether they rage or run, I care not for failures. Start the next batch. We'll see if they come closer to my proven greatness. The time comes to fight fire with fire, and I will see the usurper burned, no matter the cost…"

Surely, I thought, the Hutt should've noticed me. But… nothing, not even as the Force allowed me to peek through their eyes. Proof that the Force was very much not on their side, even as they bent so much of it to their will with inflamed, infested, ill-gained weight.

Silently, I slipped out of the Hutt's POV and back into my physical body. The sigh of relief I breathed must have been audible. Loud and honest. Thank the fucking Force… I didn't want to think about riding along in that obese, slimy form for another second.

Immediately after I sighed, Fay was on me, looking straight through my eyes into my soul with genuine concern, "Atom! What did you see? What were you shown? Are-… Are you alright…? Whole…? Do you need… c-c-comfort…?!"

She was blushing a brilliant, alluring pink by the end of her questioning. Unfortunately, I wasn't in any kind of mood to linger on or enjoy the scene of her (unintentionally?) propositioning innuendo. Yet another thing to curse the Hutts for…

"We've got a real heavy problem lurking on the horizon… Fucking Hutts," I grunted and scowled. "Bloated, festering, Nurgle-looking-ass Hutt…"

IIIII

— Lucy —

"Yet another terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea from you, Atom," Lucy deadpanned, even as the corners of her lips threatened to twitch up into a smirk. "Yet I can't help but be completely on board with this one. First time for everything, neh~?"

"Don't lie. You've learned to love my ideas," Atom sniped back.

"But the fact I had to learn at all is telling, isn't it?"

"… Whatever. You got your tools for this quick job?"

"Oh, yeah. You chose the right choom for this, that's for sure."

"I'm sure Becca or Sasha could do it just as well."

Lucy shook her head, "Just as enthusiastically, maybe. Not just as well. I've got experience throwing up tags. They'd get the job done, but it wouldn't be done cleanly."

Atom quirked a brow, "You've got experience tagging? Misspent youth?"

"If you could even call it that around these parts," Lucy chuckled. "But yeah, I've got my paints, and I'll give your declaration that bit of flair it'll need."

"Then, hop the fuck in. I'll drive and watch your back while you tag my message on the side of Arasaka Tower."

They didn't waste any more time. There was no need to. Lucy hopped in the open-topped speeder Atom had chosen and he took off at speed. They wound their way through Night City's airways all the way to Corpo Plaza. There, they departed from the usual traffic.

Arasaka's security wouldn't like a lone speeder flying up to their windows. But with Atom there, what could they do about it? Lucy knew he'd keep her safe and steady. All she had to worry about was leaving her mark and his message.

Tagging graffiti on Arasaka Tower was no small ask. It was the kind of canvas that street artists dreamed of. And Lucy hadn't forgotten her beef with Arasaka. She likely never would. Satisfaction curled in her chest at the idea of leaving a mark on them where everyone could see it.

This was a 'stealth' mission, but not much of one. They didn't care about being sneaky. The results would be discovered one way or another. Mainly, Atom wanted to keep their little job 'stealthy' from the rest of the crew. They'd find out about the legendary message he wanted to send at the same time as the rest of the city. And when they did, Lucy was sure their reactions would be very entertaining.

An AraSec speeder came out to greet them as they hovered alongside the tower's windows, "Cease, desist, and vacate the Tower's airspace! Do so or be shot down on Arasaka's authority!"

"Eat my entire fucking ass!" Atom shouted back.

That brought the two AraSec drones up short. They hissed amongst themselves fiercely, the words carrying on the wind.

"Kriffing kriff! That's-!"

"I know! But we've got a job to do!"

"So, what?! We just shoot 'em down?! Shoot HIM down?!"

"I don't see any other fucking option!"

Atom rolled his eyes, "Get lost, corpos. Let us do what we've gotta do."

"G-Good sir!" The AraSec passenger shouted back, stuttering slightly. "W-We can't do that!"

"Then, shoo and plead ignorance," Atom gave them an out they really should've taken.

But they hesitated just long enough for Atom to change his 'out' into action. He waved his hand as if swatting a bug. The AraSec speeder was hit by the disconnected gesture. As if a giant, invisible hand had fly-swatted them out of mid-air. They spiraled down and away, leaving Lucy and Atom to work in peace. The other speeder recovered eventually, but it was certainly suitably warned.

Lucy largely ignored them, unimportant drones as they were. She shook her paints and slotted them into her tagging sprayer. Then, she simply got to work leaving a message with flair. This shit was her Heaven Spot, no doubt. A large, clear canvas on an appropriate target for everyone to see.

The message would be large enough to read at a distance. To the point that Lucy had to direct Atom to fly the speeder like a mobile platform. He listened well and she was left to her work. Lucy began with the backfilling, painting with gold so the later letters would pop and glitter. Thankfully, the paints she'd chosen stuck to the glass well. Soon enough, she lost herself in the process, throwing up graffiti for the ages.

"Lower… Back up a sec. Right, now, back down. Over, choom, to the right. That's it…"

She worked her way up and down letters that would end up being several meters tall. With the backfilling done, she had Atom return to the start. Then came the actual lettering. Done in a glowing crimson paint, they popped like nothing else. Just as she saw it in her mind. Lucy brought her imagination and Atom's message to life on a corpo canvas, all glittering gold and neon crimson, all sharp lines and flowing curves.

Here and there, Lucy left her own flair. Letters that looked 3D. Stylized lines and carefully chosen colors. Purposeful drips in the crimson that looked like flowing blood. But her pride and joy was the logo she'd dreamed up for the Gonk Cartel. A stylized atom with letters along the electron rings that spelled 'FREE' and 'GONKS'.

With the final stroke of her sprayer, Lucy pulled back. Satisfied. They'd gathered a crowd of more AraSec speeders, she noticed. But none of them interfered like the first. Considering Atom's ever-present glare and what the message said, Lucy couldn't blame them.

"SMASHER- LET'S GET VIOLENT. TWO DAYS. PICK THE PLACE. SHOW UP AND GET SMASHED OR GO DOWN IN HISTORY AS A LEGENDARY BITCH. -ATOM."

Lucy couldn't help but laugh incredulously to see it realized, "You're fraggin' crazy, Atom. So fraggin' crazy."

"I realized that a while ago," Atom grunted. "But I'm not letting Smasher slide. Not after he took Shaitan. He fucks with my people, I fuck him up. This is a long time coming, anyway. It's about damn time Smasher was smashed for a change."

Even if Lucy agreed, she just shook her head, "The chooms are gonna flip their shit. I'm here for it, though. This is set up to be a whole damn show."

None of the AraSec speeders moved to stop them as Atom pulled them up and away. They seemed almost frozen, staring at the moon-shaking message Lucy and Atom had left. How many of them realized they were staring at history, Lucy wondered…

Now that the declaration was made, Lucy couldn't see a hint of hesitation in Atom. Only spite and resolve as he muttered, "Damn fucking straight. A show for the ages, the kind no one will forget."

Seeing that determination written all over him, Lucy already knew she'd be betting on Atom. It was an insane thought when he'd be up against Adam Fucking Smasher… But she'd seen Atom do too many insane and impossible things to falter here and now. He'd win. He'd bring Smasher lower than the Chrome Rancor had ever been before. And he'd certainly earn his place as a Night City Legend.