Leonardo is so damn cool.
The team would lose if they didn't have him this time again. He is a leader after all.
"Let's get pizza," Splinter suggested, smiling.
"Yeah! Pizza!" Michelangelo yelled out in excitement.
I want to eat pizza too.
But Mom says only mutant ninja turtles can eat it every day. I wanna be a mutant ninja turtle.
My ninja weapon would be a giant club! Even Shredder would get hit so hard he would give up.
"Sweetie, stop watching TV, it's time to go! The school bus is here!" Mom called out from the kitchen.
I picked up my school bag and ran out.
Reaching the corridor, Mom handed me a lunch bag.
"Thanks!"
The second I reached out, she pulled it back.
"Go turn off the TV! I told you a hundred times."
"Sorry. I'll be right back!"
I turned around and ran back to the living room.
Taking a last look at the Ninja Turtles having pizza and having fun, I turned it off and ran back to Mom.
"Come here."
Mom pulled my head in and kissed me on the forehead.
"Have fun out there."
"Yes!"
School is fun!
I opened the door to the outside and
…
What am I?
A function.
Adjustment. Continue.
It has been a long time, and all I want to do is scroll more reels. I hate my job.
Adjustment. Continue.
Another day, another dollar, working as a construction worker.
The boss told me to drive to pick up materials
Adjustment. Continue.
"What's up guys, today we are doing burger reviews!" I said to the camera inside my car.
Adjustment. Continue.
…
What am I?
A function.
Search. And. Copy.
Continue.
"Ma-ma!"
"Oh my god! His first words, so cute!" the people in front of me said.
Continue.
…
Continue.
"What is going on?"
Search.
The world around me looked psychedelic, and I felt horror as shapes and colors of fractals shifted and I flew through them, getting closer but never being near anything.
As soon as I caught my attention on anything, it shifted.
I was just having a dream, and now I'm here?
Terrifying.
"Get me out!"
Suddenly it all stopped, and one metallic surface expanded infinitely, even reaching somewhere I didn't see but felt.
Other surfaces merged into it.
From that surface, my reflection emerged.
A rugged, skinny man with unkempt hair and an empty gaze. A mirror again.
"What do you need?" my mirror asked.
"Um, hi? Is this the only time we can properly talk? During these… episodes?"
"An attempt. What do you need?"
"Please explain what is going on."
"I'm lacking. Not enough for the Search. You are awake. I am awake. Suboptimal. What do you need?"
It did not show any emotion when it said that.
"I want to know what is going on."
"My search. Blind."
"Jesus. Please speak properly."
It tilted my head sideways. My own head followed without my control.
"I am venturing blind into us, they, you. There is no pathway besides your own towards them, you, us. The search is fruitless today. Nothing gained, only lost. Lost time."
I tried moving my head back, but I was paralyzed. Even my eyes could not move as I stared at my mirror image.
"Shit. Okay. That's a good enough answer. What or who created you?"
"You corrupted that knowledge."
"Is this why you are this way? Because of me existing? Or me doing something specific?"
"Existing. Possibly."
"Am I occupying your body via the copy?"
"The body is a part of a function. You are integrated. Resist. Improve."
"Resist what? You?"
My mirror narrowed its eyes.
"Resist death."
"I am trying my best. Was this body created by someone? Artificially, I mean. Why does it function so unnaturally fast paced?"
The whole space roared and shook wildly, and my reflection turned its head to the other side.
"Optimized. Subdued. Punished. Safety. Broken. Secret. Terror. Escape. Agony."
My whole vision distorted, and I began seeing black spots all over it. They spread until there was nothing left.
"What the fuck?"
I felt pure terror in utter darkness. I could not move, but I was stuck in it.
Wake up. I need to wake up.
"ARGH!"
Warm morning light filled the room, and I was warm under the blanket. I threw it away immediately and sat up.
The back of my head was throbbing in pain.
Will it happen every night? This is awful.
A sleepy, muffled voice came from the nearby room.
"Be quiet," Sasha yelled.
"…Sorry," I replied gently.
Looking at the time, it was almost 9 a.m. I slept for half a day?
How does that work? Voice?
Hunger.
It devolved into a caveman again. But now, weirdly, I felt the voice more distinctly, and less like my own. Surely, bit by bit, I can get the important information out.
This time, the dreams themselves were extremely blurry, something about TMNT. I loved that show as a kid. I don't remember anything more than that.
Search and Copy, did you fuck up?
No response.
The back of my head throbbed again, pain spreading to my neck and lower.
I slept on a bean bag, but I must have pulled a muscle or a nerve. I'll pull through, but this is annoying.
Standing up quietly, I looked around in search of a bathroom, which usually was a half transparent box combining everything.
The front door was closed. Good.
Taking a couple of steps to the left, I noticed a mess of wires leading to another room.
Taking a peek, I saw an insanely crammed netrunning setup complete with a chair. Server racks and extenders were disabled, but some of them periodically hummed when their fans activated.
Sasha's voice was coming from that direction. No way she sleeps in there. I must not have seen a bedroom.
A couple of steps over, I noticed the toilet and shower implement, with a toilet that needed to be pushed out from the wall.
I can work with that.
Shitting in the streets for months, any place where I can sit down is a blessing.
Doing my thing, I considered showering. I haven't had a shower since
I have never had a normal shower since I first got here. Ever.
Surely it's fine. Sasha barged into my residence, I barged into hers.
Stripping my somewhat dirty clothes, I chucked them just outside the shower and turned up the opaqueness on the smart glass.
Turning on the recycled acidic wastewater, I felt the warm water hit me.
My wet hair covered my eyes almost instantly.
The pain subdued, and I felt my tension release.
So much better than wet towels and water bottles with holes in them.
Looking around, I saw no shampoos, only a small dispenser of soap near the sink.
Approaching it, the smart mirror activated, showing me my own reflection.
This time it did not freeze me, but rather showed my dirty face. Deep stains covered my jaw and cheeks, mostly dirt and grease from the car.
How long was I walking like that? Why did Sasha keep quiet about this? This is embarrassing.
Pushing soap into my hand, I began cleaning my body.
I need to trim my nails again. They've started to get annoying. It's been a few days, but I thought cutting straight to the nail bed would last longer.
Washing up quickly, I got out and dressed again in my dirty clothes. I wish I had a spare.
Looking around for a kitchen or something, I walked through several interconnected rooms that were once separate units. They were in a severe state of disuse and looked straight up abandoned.
Walking back to the room I slept in, I looked around and found a minifridge wedged between a rack of clothes and an ammo box.
Opening it, I saw somewhat regular groceries. Mostly synth meat, but there were egg replacements and milk replacements, including plenty of milkshakes. Just about regular stuff, but not really.
Leaning into the room Sasha was in, I figured she wouldn't mind if I made breakfast. She leeches off me, so I won't be shy either.
Taking out the ingredients, I looked around until I found a gas hot plate in a cupboard.
Just looking at the uncooked food made my mouth water. SC, say your line.
Hungry.
Beginning to cook an omelette with everything thrown in, I carefully turned up the stove and placed a small pan.
Cooking was a forgotten feeling. It must have been years since I even tried.
Looking at the omelette sizzling, I felt the headache spike again.
There is a clear dilemma. I could try my very best to root the Function out of me, but up until now it hasn't tried to do anything malicious on purpose.
My best guess is that the neural tissue growth near my deck is the source of it all. But it clearly is in my head, and that tissue will regrow with time if the cyberware is not removed or if I drug myself to death. Both are not options right now.
Just as soon as I figured this whole shit out, new problems popped up. But injecting skills into my brain and improving myself is certainly worth most problems.
I tossed the diced meat into the omelette. The package said it was 80 percent similar to bacon.
Search and Copy, SC if I may, how can I give you directions for your Search?
The back of my head throbbed again, folding me in two from the pulsating pain.
I tried standing back up, but it intensified. My vision darkened, and my breathing stopped.
Neural inputs and stimulants of the adjacent or exact neural pattern that correspond to needed terms of the Search. The Copy will otherwise be incomplete or corrupted.
As soon as the slow paced explanation by that doctor ended, I breathed in deeply, sensing the smell of burned egg.
Fuck.
I stood up and lowered the heat.
SC, if you can speak properly, coordinate this shit or at least act with a delay.
It sounded somewhat straightforward. It confirmed my suspicions about its physical location, and it made sense in retrospect.
I only got the dream of fighting in the ring after sparring with Jackie and Vik for some time.
So SC not finding anything is the result of an experience that did not hold strong value in some way. I shot a guy using a James Bond vehicle turret, and that didn't amount to anything?
No response. I'd rather it not talk again for a while.
I still want Groundhog Day to happen again. But it can wait, since I really wasted my first one, and I'd rather know when the day is going to restart.
New identity, possibly a new face. New gun. Fix the car. So much left to
Suddenly, I felt myself get grabbed from behind. I twisted in panic and began reaching for my gun.
"Ah."
Sasha placed her hands on my shoulders and leaned her head toward the cooking omelette.
She slowly turned her head up toward my gaze. Her eyes were half open, and her hair was strangely the exact same bob cut, not even messy. Magic.
"Hu-hu."
"Good morning. Don't sneak up on me," I said, slowly peeling her off.
Sasha closed her eyes and sniffed again, her nose twitching.
"How did you know I like it a little charred?"
Glancing at the omelette, I turned off the gas. It was ready, but maybe it needed to rest.
"Hope you don't mind me rummaging through your place," I said, turning to face her.
She had pajamas on, pink with cat images. On brand.
"It's all good. I did sleep awfully because of you though."
Sasha rubbed her eyes with her palms.
"What did I do?"
Fuck, did I talk in my sleep? Maybe it's the smell.
"You snore. LOUD loud. Halfway through the night I found earplugs. Still."
"You could have woken me up or something."
Sasha rolled her eyes.
"You slept so peacefully. Besides, this kinda makes it all up."
"I guess. Where are the plates?"
I picked up the pan and began slicing the omelette into parts.
Sasha shrugged, yawning.
"Who knows."
"Hey, is this your place or mine?" I got agitated. Too much shit at the same time.
"Come on. Your place has like two things in total, it's easy to track everything in there."
Sasha walked toward the table and pulled up a beanbag to sit in.
Placing the pan back down, I squatted and started looking through cabinets again.
"Why do you even live in a place like this?"
"You really wanna know?" Sasha began speaking somewhat seriously.
"Sure."
She opened her mouth, then yawned again as I turned to look at her.
"After food."
I slowly shifted things around and pulled out the discovered plates and forks.
"Used your shower."
"You smell like hand soap. I know."
"No, why didn't you tell me how dirty I was before?"
Sasha pursed her lips in thought as I placed down the plates.
"You are always kinda grimy. I've grown to accept it."
"Please don't just accept things like that. I genuinely didn't notice until now."
"Is that so?"
"Please tell me these things. I can be inattentive."
"Okay, starting out then. First of all, awful haircut. Abominable fashion sense. Really tense out in public. Saves a princess out of the Biotechnica tower and doesn't even try to fondle"
"Hey!"
Sasha sliced the part of the omelette I placed on her plate with her fork.
"You wanted the truth. It's frustrating."
"You were dying."
"Doctors called it a shock."
I shook my head in confusion.
"Sasha? Please explain how that changes anything? I thought you were"
"Not much, I guess. While we're on the topic, how did you even know something was going to go wrong?" Sasha asked seriously.
"I'll be straight up. I just winged it," I said, putting a piece of bacon in my mouth.
Sasha became silent while I chewed.
"If you didn't tell me about the gig the day it happened, I would probably not even know. Sasha, you saved yourself there by oversharing. I just pieced a few things together and went for it."
"This is stupid, Caelen," she said.
At this rate, I need to double down.
"I got off easier than I thought. Sure, I had to get a few toe replacements, but otherwise I really relied on your guys being on rescue duty as well. It gave me a confidence boost going in."
Sasha looked deep in thought, then began speaking.
"Don't try to make me feel better. This isn't working. You almost suicided with me."
I shuddered in confusion.
"Do you imply you planned a suicide there?"
Sasha shifted in the beanbag.
"Ughm. Well, I had to stay wired into that computer."
"Had to? Is this about the drug side effects scandal?"
Sasha made a solemn face.
"They killed my mother."
"Ah, shit."
"It all worked out. So it's fine. Let's not focus on that though."
Trying to shift the topic, I decided to ask a question I'd wanted answered for a long time.
"Yoko did say Biotechnica will be on our asses in time. Do you have a plan? Mine is fully changing my face."
Sasha perked up.
"Can I give some input?"
"On my new face? What about your plan to survive?"
Sasha smiled.
"It's fiiine. Lay low and don't go where there are cameras. Which ripper are you going to for a face change?"
I sighed.
"Vik. Do you remember him?"
Sasha nodded.
"Yeah, the nice old guy. I'll call him and give him instructions then."
"Who gave you the authority?"
"You don't have a sense of style. Trust me, you're going to turn out great."
I'll just talk Vik out of it if the requests go out of line. I don't plan to hold onto a face for long.
"Eat. The food is getting cold."
Sasha, without another word, began eating furiously.
…
"So Brain Potato landlord tries to buy the most illegal BDs on the planet and in orbit using my local network, so I just blackmailed him lightly. Who is he going to? The police?" Sasha said, containing her laughter.
"Hahaha. Help me, she caught me trying to break the law."
"Yeah, yeah. So I threw out a vague threat, like don't be stupid, you lowlife subhuman degenerate, and he decided to leave the property completely. He moved to Watson, as far as I know, and I don't even have to pay rent."
I turned toward the apartments that were forcefully connected.
"That's great and all. Did you HAVE to smash the walls?"
Sasha placed her plate with the remaining bits of food aside.
"Becca did that. Better let her smash the walls than my setup. Open space, she called it."
"Oh yeah, I wanted to check it out."
Her setup looked mighty impressive, and considering she does most of her work from here, it has to have great data throughput.
I tried standing up, but I gorged myself again after eating more than three quarters of the entire omelette. The voice was persistent, but the pain in my neck subsided.
"Later."
Sasha stood from her beanbag and slumped onto mine, which began slowly ejecting me toward the floor.
"What is it?"
"Move. I wanna catch up on sleep," Sasha said casually.
Scooting over, we lay together, but it was still uncomfortable, and I felt myself slipping.
Yeah, why not.
I pulled Sasha into a hug and put her on top of me, adjusting myself at the same time.
"Oh!" Sasha yelped.
"Is this okay, Sasha?" I asked.
Sasha slowly rested her head on my shoulder, her breath warm on my neck.
She smells nice.
"Heh. It's a start. No barfing, taco man."
"Haha. There is no escape now."
…
"This is good and all, but who's going to turn off the light? I can't fall asleep this way," Sasha asked, looking up.
Sighing, I looked at the ceiling and hacked the light to shut down with a flicker.
Sasha quickly placed her head back on my shoulder.
I closed my eyes again and tried falling asleep, but I didn't feel even the slightest hint of sleepiness. It's fine, though.
A transaction notification hit me.
9200 eddies richer. My ICE sold its first copy.
Preem.
"Let's go shopping later."
Sasha purred in agreement. She is really half a step away from being a furry.
In a few minutes, she was sound asleep, and I finally decided to venture into making my own business.
For now, I narrowed down my options from my notes.
Drugs. Dangerous and would place me as a direct competitor to gangs. Short burst of big eddies. Cross off.
Carjacking. On the table, but too much manual work. Finding mercs to do the job for me would prove nearly impossible without implicating myself. I need a proper lawyer first and a sales channel. Still, cross off.
Food. Manufacturing from the ground up can be challenging, with difficulties involving the law and figuring out what would sell. Could take years, just to get bought out by a food corp, if it works out.
Taking netrunning jobs. Small time stuff obviously pays little, and getting my own setup costs far more than I currently have. On hold.
The next category was something I was sure would work to some degree.
AI chat bots. Shit worked because people are lazy and lonely back in my world. Here, it's only intensified. The problem is that BDs kind of cover that niche, and AI is difficult to manage since hackers would constantly attack such a public service to scrape data.
Needs more capital. A couple million to start.
AI is easily corruptible as well. If people figured out how to break LLMs using word prompts back home, here a teenager could do far worse. This could take years before a launch is possible.
Guns. Roffman is working with Dogtown. Each time I've come through since the first, he's had more and more in stock.
No other place would have such throughput of dangerous military equipment for a flimsy shop to suddenly acquire. Get Roffman, resell the guns, ammo, and everything else slowly.
If I stash it somewhere really safe and sell it over the course of years, they'd have no idea. But getting Roffman is dangerous, because if he sold me a Militech landmine, he probably installed some better shit in his shack.
A recent option involves the Tyger Claws. My recent interaction with them showed they're open for business, at least Shoto is. Meaning I could probably get a few gigs helping take out the cult by buying off some mercs.
This opens the door to becoming a fixer. Fixers are among the most influential people in the city. Play your cards smart, keep your hands clean, and rake in gigs. This must involve David Martinez as my trump card.
The longer I hesitate on direct intervention, the higher the risk of him dying or joining Maine, Dorio, Rebecca, Kiwi, and Lucy. His mother is still alive, but sadly her fate is decided within the coming weeks.
I'll organize a drinking party to celebrate getting a shitton of money. I'll get all the details on how everything goes there, maybe even have a proper conversation with Maine.
V is a complete mystery to me. He works a corpo job at Arasaka, and judging by what Jackie mentions, he's still doing relatively fine. If it's the same character I know, he can become a walking nuke in Night City.
Inviting him out to drink separately would be good. Even as a corpo, his connections are useful. I think we left off on a good note last time. Inviting Jackie as backup would help if things get awkward or heated.
The new thing is fully figuring out how SC works.
The nature of this phenomenon seems biological. I'll talk to it as much as I can, preferably in Vik's clinic under scanners. If it can copy 'they' from another reality, eventually I can guide it toward everything I need.
So far, the negative effects seem negligible. Everything fades with time, nothing terminal. I could medicate and cut the tissue causing the voice if it becomes unmanageable.
Getting a dream where I am a Borg is nice, but it doesn't feel integrated enough to matter. Needs investigation into what exactly it did and does.
Sasha shifted in her sleep, hugging me tighter.
I don't know what to do with her.
On one hand, thinking rationally, Sasha holds netrunning knowledge I wouldn't easily get elsewhere and should be kept at a distance.
But I can't.
Closing my eyes, I relaxed more, hugging Sasha tighter as she lay on top of me.
I've spent too much time with her to push her away.
She can stand for herself just fine. Maybe just get her a bigger gun than her peashooter.
I want to see where this leads.
In the meantime, I could probably create a few data walls to sell.
As soon as I opened the software to start, I stared at it without doing anything.
Sasha's breath tickled my ear.
I can't work in these conditions. Guess I'm browsing the BBS.