April 18, 2021. 22:16. Burnaby. 12 days left till Italy.
A knot tightens in my stomach. A cyberpsycho? That's not good. Even a whole squad of cops can struggle to bring one down. And I've never personally run into one either.
One of the Dead Kings at the door glances back, visibly unsettled. "For real? That's just up the block."
Mister doesn't respond. Instead, his head snaps up, and his posture goes rigid. He turns on his heel, practically bolting out the door without another word.
"Shit," I mutter, grabbing my bag. I rip out my modified SMG and sling it across my back. I quickly check my handgun and combat knife, both weapons strapped securely to my sides. Alright—ready to go.
"Stay here," I bark at the Dead Kings and the rest of the staff. "Keep the place locked down. Don't let anyone in."
Ryker hesitates but nods, pulling a handgun from his jacket. "Got it."
Remi, still lingering by the bar, shoots me a curious glance. "Yo, what's going on?"
I barely pause to answer. "Cyberpsycho. Mister just bolted. I'm going after him."
Azure looks at me, concern flickering across her face. "Be careful."
I nod quickly and sprint after Mister, dodging past onlookers.
As I hit the main street, the scene unfolds like a nightmare.
Wrecked cars, shattered glass, and bodies strewn about. The smell of burnt rubber and blood taints the air, and the distant whine of sirens is closing in.
I catch a glimpse of Mister first. He's moving low between the wreckage, sharp and focused, as if he's looking for someone. But when the distorted scream cuts through the night, he drops into cover behind a half-crushed SUV, crouching down.
I curse under my breath and slide in beside him. "The hell are you doing?" I hiss at him while pressing my back against the battered metal.
Mister doesn't answer. His gaze is fixed ahead.
I peek over the hood as well, and then I see him as well.
Some grotesque freak show—an imposing figure in patched-up merc gear, his entire face a horrific mess of exposed wires, scraped cybernetics, and red glowing optics that look more insect than human. The plates and cables tangle together like some monstrous exoskeleton, with his skin barely visible under all of that.
He twitches sporadically, head jerking like he's battling something in his own mind. His left hand clutches a massive revolver, the barrel still smoking.
The psycho's optics sweep the street, and land right on us. Oh fuck.
I tense, ready to move, but Mister raises a hand slightly, motioning me to stay down.
I bite my lip, contemplating if I should listen or not, my hand hovering near the grip of my SMG.
I've never faced a cyborg—let alone a crazed one—with this level of tech in the open. Even so, it's clear there's little I could do if he opened fire on me or Mister.
"Fine." I resign, letting Mister take the lead, though doubt still gnaws at the back of my mind. I have no clue why you're doing this, but if things go bad, I'm taking action.
To my surprise, the cyberpsycho doesn't fire. He stumbles forward a few steps, clutching his head like it's splitting apart. His voice crackles out, warped and broken but... almost human.
"...h-hey... please... d-don't run... I... don't wanna... hurt you... I just—" His words shatter into static, fragments glitching out mid-sentence. His whole body trembles.
Mister shifts beside me, voice steady. "You're still in there. Stay with me. What's your name?"
The psycho lets out a whimper, like an animal in pain. "Nathan, where is… Nathan?" His optics flicker wildly. "M-must… find… him… before they do."
"Who? Who is chasing after Nathan?" Mister continues with the questioning, standing firm in the midst of the violence. "I can help you, we can do this together."
Mister, you can't possibly be serious right now.
My doubt keeps building.
What on Earth could possibly motivate someone to interact with this guy?
I feel my pulse pounding.
There's no salvaging this.There's no way anyone can convince me that this psycho's still stable after everything I just saw.
I'm already running scenarios in my head—ways to break for cover, ways to drag Mister out if I have to. We are two heartbeats away from dying, I can sense it.
The cyberpsycho lurches forward, clutching his head harder.
"...can't stop... too loud... too bright... MAKE IT STOP!" His voice fractures, repeating incoherent phrases like a broken record. "MAKE IT STOP! WHERE IS NATHAN?! PLEASE! ARGHHH!"
To my horror, he starts tearing off some of his robotic eyes. Blood and other cybernetic fluids spill out onto the ground.
Mister starts inching sideways, trying to draw him away from me.
But it's too late.
The psycho's head snaps up. His optics lock onto Mister—and something inside him shatters.
I react on pure instinct. I lunge sideways and kick Mister's leg out from under him, sending him sprawling just as the cyberpsycho fires. The bullet slams into the pavement where Mister had been standing, a hair's breadth from his skull.
"MOVE!" I yell, grabbing Mister by the collar and dragging him behind a pile of debris.
The psycho's screams turn into an animalistic roar.
He fires wildly now, bullets chewing through concrete and glass. "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" he roars, shooting at seemingly nothing. Each shot cracks the air like thunder.
I pull out my weapon, heart hammering against my ribs. What the hell do I do? Breathe. Focus. I consider my options carefully while under panic.
Optics? Small target, maybe enough to blind him.
Another shot tears past overhead, punching clean through the hood of the car. I duck lower, teeth clenched.
Joints? If he's armoured, the plates have to overlap somewhere.
I hear more screams in the distance. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!
Multiple people run away from the scene. Idiots, why didn't you run away earlier? Then again, why am I here with Mister?
Maybe I could flank him. But he's too erratic. He could snap left or right without warning.
A distraction? A car alarm? Throwing a rock? Suppressive fire? Anything to split his focus.
But can I move fast enough without him emptying my skull?
Another stray round shatters a streetlamp across the road, showering sparks into the night.
Think, Gina, think.
He's wired wrong, he's losing control by the second.
If I spook him, he might charge. If I hesitate, I'm dead.
My body tenses, ready to sprint, ready to draw fire or even run for it. Fuck it, I'll leave Mister if I have to.
Something else catches my attention. Footsteps coming my way.
Remi and Azure catch up, ducking behind a nearby wreck beside us.
Remi's eyes widen at the sight. "Bro, what the fuck is that thing? We wanted to take a closer look."
Mister steadies himself, breathing hard, dirt smeared across his coat. "An enhanced merc. Looks like he's gone psycho."
The psycho's erratic movements intensify. He claws at the rest of his body, tearing open old wounds. Blood streaks down his plated chest. His voice twists into a low, guttural screech.
And then, he does something I wasn't expecting.
He presses the revolver's barrel against his own head.
"No... no... GET OUT... GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"
One last broken scream, and then, a deafening crack.
The cyberpsycho drops to his knees and collapses, twitching twice before falling still.
Silence falls, punctuated only by the sound of distant sirens drawing closer.
What the fuck did I just watch? Did I just luck out?
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, my hands trembling.
Mister pulls himself up, brushing off dust. He mutters something under his breath, something I can't quite catch, but I see the tension in his shoulders hasn't eased.
I just stare at the body. Another casualty of the city's cruelty.
"Wait, so what happened?" Remi asks, his eyes fixed on the now dead cyberpsycho.
Mister adjusts his coat, voice flat. "The infection. It's spreading faster than we thought… and I was hoping to get a lead."
A shiver runs down my spine. "Infection? From what? You're awfully suicidal for this."
"Haven't you seen the news? Cyberpsychosis has been a rising occurrence here in the city, it's gotten so bad that a lot of my clients are spooked now."
"Well, yeah, I've seen that on the news. But what did you mean by 'infection'?" I glance at Mister, but he cuts our conversation short.
"One moment." He pulls out his phone, stepping away while the rest of us stand there in confused, uneasy silence.
Now that the action's over, the street falls into an eerie quiet. Sirens wail closer by the second.
"That... was a person once," Azure murmurs, eyes fixed on the body. "Did you guys see what set him off?"
I shake my head. "No, he was already losing it when we got to the scene. Mister was trying to get answers for some reason, I don't know." I shrug, still not fully sure of Mister's intent. "You're gonna have to ask him yourself why he ran in head first. I'm just glad that none of us died."
Remi leans against a nearby car. "Shit, do they always tweak out like that? I saw them on the news but didn't know they went crazy like that." Somehow, he has the audacity to take a picture of the corpse. Neither Azure nor I stop him. "This is one fire ass pic though. My chooms are gonna be asking if I saw everything go down." He grins smugly at his phone.
"Dude…" I stare at him in disbelief, one eyebrow raised, mouth half-open. Several more seconds pass as I struggle to even think of a response. In the end, all I can do is scoff. "Forget it."
Azure sighs, brushing aside what just happened to answer Remi's earlier question. "To answer your question earlier, no. There's a lot of variance between cyberpsychos, and they don't all act the same. This one was...." She looks at me to complete the sentence.
"Yeah, he was more… unstable." I double-check my gear, making sure everything's in place. "Dude had so many implants, I didn't even know what part of him was organic anymore."
Mister returns, pocketing his phone. "Sorry, the call was important. I also overheard your conversation. You're right, it's worse than the news is letting on."
"You mean the cyberpsycho cases?"
"No. Not just the cases. The police are struggling to contain the situation. Between the rising cyberpsychosis incidents and the ongoing gang and drug wars, they can't even keep up with expanding. They're barely holding things together right now."
Remi crosses his arms, grimacing. "Ohhhh shit, that lines up with what people have been saying."
That catches Azure's attention. She frowns while tapping her chin. "Drugs... cyberpsychosis... gang territory fights... You don't think they're all connected?" She glances at me, waiting for any additional thoughts.
I'm about to agree when I remember something more pressing, an issue unaddressed. "Hold up. Why the hell did you bolt out of the bar earlier without a word?" I narrow my eyes at Mister.
Mister doesn't answer immediately. His helmet glints under the dim streetlights, giving away nothing.
Just as I'm about to press him again, something shifts in the corner of my eye. Movement. A shadow flits through a nearby alley. My hand instinctively reaches for my gun.
From the darkness steps a figure—a small, lithe silhouette, clad in black from head to toe. The person moves soundlessly, and I catch a glimpse of sleek armour and a moto jacket that almost mirrors Mister's aesthetic. What…? Their helmets are similar in design too, both completely concealing their faces behind dark, reflective visors. The voice that follows is distorted, mechanical, and almost too quiet to catch. However, it's not as perfect as Mister's. While his is more warped, this new figure has an unmistakably young and feminine voice.
"Is it... over?"
Mister's posture tenses, just slightly. "What are you doing here?"
The stranger doesn't respond, instead taking a few careful steps forward to examine the cyberpsycho's corpse. Her movements are quick, almost jittery. There's something unbalanced about her—like she's constantly on edge.
"Ayoooo?" Remi mutters. "Is this Mister Junior?"
Azure chuckles, disbelief colouring her voice. "Looks like a budget version of Mister."
The figure stiffens at that, but doesn't respond. She kneels near the body, hands moving over the mangled cyberware, almost as if cataloging the modifications.
Mister doesn't seem fazed, but I notice his hand remains close to his holster. "She's not a threat. At least, not right now."
"Uh-huh." I glance at him, still unconvinced. "And how do you know that?"
The figure's head snaps up at that, the visor reflecting the streetlight. Her voice crackles through the modulator, sounding slightly annoyed. "I'm not your enemy. I'm just... gathering data."
Mister finally drops his guard a fraction, stepping closer. "You need to leave. This isn't your business."
She doesn't budge. "It's everyone's business when the gangs start flipping out. This is the third one I've seen this week. The city's getting worse. Melders are selling drugs to high schoolers now, and I'm pretty sure they have a hand in the cyberpsycho problem."
I exchange looks of confusion with Azure and Remi, who both seem equally lost. "Uh… who is she?" I whisper.
Mister sighs, almost as if tired. "Someone who thinks she can do what I do. A wannabe."
The figure huffs, crossing her arms. "I'm not a wannabe. I just... want to keep an eye on things."
Remi chuckles under his breath. "What, like a fan or something?"
I can almost sense the glare behind her visor. "Shut it. I don't need your opinion."
Mister glances at me, shaking his head. "Don't bother trying to get answers from her. She's been following me for a while now. Thinks I don't notice."
The figure flinches, and her hands twitch at her sides. "But I wasn't—"
"Yes, you were," Mister cuts in. "And you're going to leave… now." His tone of voice, it's like a parent scolding a child. "You're dealing with things way beyond your league."
She hesitates, then seems to give up, straightening and turning away. "This isn't over. I'm going to figure out what's causing this."
"Good luck," Mister mutters, his voice softer than usual. The figure hesitates one more time, then vanishes back into the alley, her footsteps almost completely silent.
Azure exhales slowly. "So we're really going to ignore her?"
Mister doesn't answer, already dialling his phone. "Doesn't matter. Let's focus on the cyberpsycho. Blake needs an update on what's happened."
He steps away to make another call, and I'm left trying to make sense of what just happened. A wannabe Mister? Someone who's trying to do the same thing he does... but why?
Azure nudges me. "That was weird. Maybe a bit creepy. You think she's dangerous?"
"If Mister says she's not a threat, I'll believe it," I reply. "But I'll keep an eye out."
Remi shrugs. "Eh, if we get another badass in the mix, I'm not complaining."
The words barely leave his mouth before flashing lights roll down the street.
Sirens.
Two cop cruisers skid to a halt near the wreckage. Officers pour out, weapons raised.
"Hands where we can see 'em!"
We freeze. There's no use running.
Mister barely reacts. He steps forward casually, flashing a badge in the hand that's free—something corporate and high-clearance. What the…?
One of the officers stiffens when he sees it. "Tch. It's you."
Mister murmurs something low and quick. I don't catch it, but it works. The tension bleeds out of the squad almost immediately. Once he confirms everything's under control, Mister casually resumes his call with Blake like nothing happened.
"They're clear," the lead officer says. "Witnesses. Nothing more. Just log their aliases and move them along."
One by one, they come over to ask us basic info. Alias only, no affiliations. No deep search, no scans. They had bigger problems than dealing with us, so they let us go.
When they spot the cyberpsycho's corpse, the cleanup team calls in another corp contractor to handle the mess, repairs, witness reports, and asset disposal.
Business as usual.
…
April 18, 2021. 23:27. Burnaby. 12 days left till Italy.
Our walk back to the side streets and then the bar is a quiet one. With the exception of Mister. Remi, Azure, and I move in silence. I don't know about them, but I'm still internally processing what just happened within the last hour or so.
All I knew was that I wanted to have some quiet time. Time away from the sirens, the flashing lights, and the body cooling on the pavement.
The night feels colder now. Was it because of the wind, or was it because I'm still terrified?
By the time we make it back to the Bar, Mister's finished his call with Blake. He stops us before we fully enter the building.
"Blake's fully updated on the situation now." He then points at me. "Artemis, he wants you to stick around the Dead Kings' territory. He's expecting more trouble—other gangs moving in, and more potential cyberpsycho incidents. So expect more messages from him."
He then gestures between himself and Azure. "He also wants us to check if he's at risk of turning."
I blink. "Wait. Blake's worried he might go cyberpsycho?"
We step inside the bar, the door swinging shut behind us as we settle into a booth. Some of the Dead Kings are still looking outside the windows but Mister assures them that everything is fine. While he calms down the staff, we continue the conversation.
Azure crosses her arms, looking dead serious. "It's not that crazy, in fact, it's understandable. People overloaded with implants are always at risk. The more chrome you bolt on, the more it messes with your emotional regulation and sense of self. Your brain chemistry just can't keep up, juggling the nerve load from the implants and the mental strain of running them." She waves her hands in the air, drawing and gesturing at random. "You start losing your ability to feel basic things properly. Anger, fear, empathy—it all gets dulled or warped. Your mind spends more energy keeping you sane more than anything else. If you tip over... there's usually no coming back," She sighs, letting her hands rest on the table. "Unless you're rich enough to be constantly pumped full of meds or therapy, I guess."
I tilt my head, recalling recent news headlines that I saw. "Right, but wasn't there also some other things as well? I heard that some corporations have been experimenting with new tech. They call it 'forced conditioning' or 'brainwave manipulation', right?"
Mister rejoins us, tapping the edge of the table. "Yes, those do exist, but there's more to it. Rumors are spreading, saying that there's a new drug on the street now. Apparently it jacks your pleasure centers to an extreme high, but if you've got implants, it accelerates neural breakdown. It basically fries your mental firewall."
I frown, processing the new information. "If that's true... it would explain the spike."
Remi looks between us. "Shiiiiit, so you're saying a good whiff could push them straight over the edge." He pauses, and then takes out his phone. "Hold up, I think I heard of this actually. Some chooms of mine say it hits good, I think I even ordered a batch myself. It's called SynthCoke, right?"
Mister tilts his head slightly. "Correct. The Melders are known to move it through the city."
Remi's face lights up. "No shot? I can hook you up with a batch if you want—hella cheap, too."
"I'm not looking to buy," Mister chuckles, a low sound. "But I'd appreciate knowing who's selling. For... business opportunities."
"Say lesssss, choom. I'll send you their deets."
Azure breaks into a snort, and then a laugh. "Of-fucking-course you of all people know about the drugs."
"Heyyyy, don't knock it till you try it." Remi waves his phone in front of Azure. "Shit hits good after work."
"What 'work'? You banging the next girl you see?"
"Ey, I'm a loyal guy," He flashes a grin at Azure. "I lock in when I need to. Don't do me dirty here."
While Remi and Azure break into a pseudo-flirt roast session, I stare at the tabletop, ignoring their laughs and snarky comments. It all just fades into the background, and instead, I feel a cold weight settle in my chest.
If this becomes a city-wide problem, I can't help but worry about my mom. Part of me wonders if my civilian friends will be safe too. I push the thought aside, telling myself they'll be fine.
But what about me? Would I survive? My money, my possessions, my career—everything I worked for... I can't lose it. I won't.
I force the thoughts down before they can drown me. Not now, I can't afford to crack.
Mister's voice pulls me back to reality.
"Everyone, focus. Don't forget Blake's requests," he says, scrolling through his phone. "He needs us to not just help secure Dead Kings territory, but to also look into the cyberpscho issue."
He pauses, tapping the screen. "But there's a problem. There's a possibility it'll conflict with the Italy job for Dante."
Azure groans, slumping against the booth. "Well, that's just perfect. You can't be in two places at once."
Mister nods grimly. "I'll relay that to Blake. We're already committed to Dante's contract. Maybe we can find a compromise."
He quickly types out a few messages to Blake. While waiting, he also messages our group chat, updating Tetra, Shock, and Wissen on everything that's happened so far.
A few seconds later, Tetra's response pops up in the chat. "Holy shit, what happened over there? Shock and I are making food right now, but I'll let her know what's going on. I don't know what I can do, but if needed, I could call my family for some extra help, maybe?"
Mister thumbs a reply back. "Sounds good. Also, if we do need your family's help, I'll repay your kindness in whatever way I can."
Then Shock's reply buzzes through. "Hi! Count me in!! Someone's gotta keep Blake alive anyway."
Remi leans back with a grin and claps his hands. "And there we have it, Team Dead Kings, baby. Gotta support the hometown heroes."
I raise an eyebrow at him. "You do realize the 'hometown heroes' are gangsters, right?"
Remi just shrugs. "Minor details."
Azure shakes her head but doesn't argue. "If the fighting spills out into the streets nearby... my shop's right in the middle of it. I'll help. Just don't expect me to charge headfirst into a gunfight."
Mister pauses, considering his next few words carefully before typing. "I just got a response back from Blake. He's not thrilled, but he understands. We'll do what we can before flying off to Italy. After that, we'll see where the city stands."
Both the table and group chat fall quiet again.
The cold from outside still clings to me. And somehow, I know deep down this is only the beginning.
I groan and close my eyes, rubbing the top of my head in thought. Twelve days until Italy, and I already feel like I'm being pulled in too many directions. What the hell can I do?
I instinctively type a quick message to Wissen. "Man, I'm so screwed. I'm getting dragged into three different messes, ugh."
His reply comes faster than I expect. "Hahaha, you'll do fine. Take it one step at a time. You're very capable." He follows it up with a dumb emoji of a cartoon character giving a thumbs-up, and despite everything, I smile. Classic. "I'm sure you don't need this, but as a reminder, focus on stabilizing the situation here. Once things calm down, you can regroup and focus on Dante's job. Also, there's something your group should know, I'll type it into the chat for everyone."
I take a deep breath, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders. At least he's always there to hear me out.
Another minute passes by, and then just as Wissen said, the group chat notification arrives.
Wissen's message appears in bold. "Attention all. Arasaka has taken an interest in assisting with the current situation of cyberpsychos. Because of that, they've reached out to me for a collaborative effort. If you're looking into the spread, they wish to aid you by deploying one of their assets. His name is Michelangelo."
The second I read "Arasaka," a chill runs down my spine. HUH? I'm not the only one. Azure's eyes go wide, and even Mister's posture stiffens.
"Arasaka?" Azure whispers, leaning over to read my phone. "Why the hell would they get involved? This is way too low-level for a corp like them."
I shake my head, equally confused. "Yeah… if Arasaka's involved, it's either way worse than we thought, or they have a personal stake."
Mister immediately types a response in the group chat. "Wissen, I request that you don't add Michelangelo to the chat. Send his number directly to me."
Wissen replies within seconds. "Of course. Michelangelo is technically an external asset, not officially part of the crew. I'll send his contact info directly to you."
I glance at Mister, who's already checking his phone. He stares at his phone, not making a sound. He doesn't seem particularly pleased, and It's pretty obvious.
"Something wrong?" I ask.
He doesn't look up. "Arasaka doesn't move without a reason. If they're deploying a cyborg, it means either they want to cover something up, or they see this situation as a test run for one of their projects."
Remi snorts. "Michelangelo? What, is he gonna paint the bad guys to death?"
Azure crosses her arms, visibly irritated. "Can't believe we're dealing with this. Gangs, cyberpsychos, now Arasaka? This is getting way too complicated."
Wissen sends another message. "Michelangelo's specs are top-of-the-line. If you ever heard of Adam Smasher, he uses a similar chassis, albeit modified to his preference. He'll be working with your team for the time being."
Wait… Adam Smasher?! You've gotta be kidding me.
I can't help but scoff. "Great. So now we have a corporate goon who's probably more machine than man."
Remi shrugs, surprisingly nonchalant. "Ey, you know what? As long as he doesn't shoot at us, I don't care. More hands on deck, right?"
Azure shakes her head. "You're way too chill about this, man. Arasaka doesn't just help out of the kindness of their heart. They probably want something from this mess."
I nod, agreeing with her. "Wissen never mixes up his teams once they're set. If he's letting some Arasaka guy join in, then something's seriously wrong. Whatever's going on, it's bad enough that even he's willing to bend his own rules." I make a mental note to ask Wissen what's going on.
Mister puts his phone away, his voice low. "We'll be careful. Michelangelo might be useful, but we can't trust him."
I lean back, mulling it over. Something feels off, really off. I shoot Mister a questioning glance, and he nods, as if reading my mind.
"He's not part of the original crew," Mister responds slowly. He looks around, making sure no one else overhears our conversation. Even though we're in relatively 'safe' company, I suppose one can never be too sure. "We'll keep him separate from our operations. Corporations like Arasaka are always looking for leverage. If they catch wind of Dante's railgun plans or the Dead Kings' movements, it could complicate everything."
"Then why accept the help?" I shoot a question back. "Honestly, I don't think it's a good idea either… but… at the same time, it feels like we don't have a choice, not with what we're up against."
"You're right, it's exactly that," Mister replies, his tone flat. "We're dealing with something bigger than expected. If Arasaka wants to clean up the cyberpsycho problem, it's safer to let them try. But we don't owe them anything."
Remi raises an eyebrow. "So what's the play? We babysit this Michelangelo dude, or what?"
"Essentially…yes," Mister replies sharply. "He'll join us while we're working, and we'll watch him from a distance when things escalate. Let him handle the heavy lifting when it comes to that, but we don't rely on him. He's a variable we can't control."
Azure mutters under her breath, "Great, just what we needed... another wildcard."
I bite back a sigh. As much as I want to get ahead of all this, it feels like we're constantly on the back foot. I check my phone again, just to make sure no new messages pop up. For now, the situation's stable, but I can't help feeling like this is just the calm before the storm.
Mister looks around the group. "I'll keep tabs on Michelangelo for the time being. If Arasaka moves against us, we'll know."
Wissen's last message pops up. "By the way, Arasaka will make contact soon. Keep communications clear. Good luck."
I slip my phone back into my pocket, glancing at Azure. She just shakes her head again. "This is gonna get ugly. I can feel it."
"Yeah," I murmur, with my mind racing. "If things go wrong... we might not just be dealing with gangs and psychos. We could have a whole corp breathing down our necks."
I fight the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Italy's only twelve days away, but I'm already borderline drowning in this mess. Part of me wonders if I'm making the right choice by sticking around. But something in me can't walk away—not when my home city is about to turn into a war zone.