The days started to blur together.
Matthew couldn't tell how long he'd been in Viktor's clinic maybe a week, maybe more. It was easy to lose track of time down here, where the only light came from flickering fluorescents and the glow of monitors. The clinic was a world of its own: a cramped, cluttered basement filled with the hum of machinery and the faint tang of machine oil.
It was far from glamorous, but it was safe.
Matthew sat at a workbench near the far wall, staring at the mess of tools and scraps Viktor had left for him. He flexed his left hand, watching the sleek chrome fingers curl into a fist. The prosthetic moved perfectly now, the initial stiffness fading as his body adjusted to the neural interface.
It felt… natural. Almost too natural.
He'd spent hours staring at it, marveling at the smooth design and the way it responded to every thought. It wasn't just a replacement it was a tool, a weapon, and maybe something more.
But the arm wasn't the only thing that had changed.
Matthew had noticed the difference the day after the surgery. He'd been organizing tools, trying to make sense of the chaos Viktor called a workspace, when something clicked.
It wasn't a sound or a feeling just an idea. He'd been holding a damaged cybernetic hand, trying to figure out how to reattach a severed wire, when the solution came to him out of nowhere.
The wire wasn't the problem. The joint was misaligned, causing a feedback loop that overloaded the connection.
It was obvious.
Matthew had fixed it in minutes, his hands moving almost instinctively as he adjusted the joint and re-soldered the wire. The hand whirred to life, its fingers twitching as the servos activated.
Viktor had noticed, of course.
"Not bad," he'd said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. "Most people wouldn't have caught that. You sure you've never done this before?"
Matthew had shaken his head, unsure how to explain it. He'd never touched cyberware before, but somehow, he'd known exactly what to do. The knowledge wasn't something he'd learned it felt like it had always been there, waiting for him to use it.
Technical Expertise.
That was what the pull had called it. The first choice he'd made in this strange new life. And now it was part of him, guiding his hands and sharpening his mind in ways he didn't fully understand.
"Focus, kid."
Matthew blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. Viktor was standing across the room, his arms crossed as he watched Matthew tinker with a broken cyberdeck.
"You're good," Viktor said, "but you're not a pro. Not yet. Pay attention to the details one screw in the wrong place, and that deck's fried."
Matthew nodded, his hands moving carefully as he reassembled the device. Viktor was a tough teacher, but he wasn't unfair. He'd saved Matthew's life, given him a place to stay, and even taught him the basics of cyberware repair.
It wasn't much, but it was enough.
Matthew tightened the last screw and set the cyberdeck down, wiping his hands on a rag. "Done," he said, leaning back in the chair.
Viktor walked over, picking up the device and turning it over in his hands. He plugged it into a nearby terminal, watching as the screen lit up with a faint green glow.
"Not bad," he said after a moment. "Still a little rough, but it works. You're getting the hang of it."
Matthew allowed himself a small smile. It wasn't much of a compliment, but coming from Viktor, it felt like an achievement.
Life in the clinic was predictable, in its own way. Viktor's patients came and went, each one bringing a new story or problem. Some were mercs, their bodies bristling with weapons and chrome. Others were corpos, their suits immaculate even as they bled out on Viktor's operating table.
Matthew kept to himself, watching and learning as Viktor worked. He handled the simpler tasks cleaning wounds, replacing faulty wiring, and organizing the endless piles of tools and parts.
It wasn't glamorous, but it was enough to keep him busy.
The clinic was quiet now, the hum of machinery filling the silence. Viktor had gone upstairs to Misty's shop, leaving Matthew alone to finish repairs on a damaged cybernetic leg.
Matthew turned the leg over in his hands, his eyes tracing the intricate network of wires and servos. He could see the problem immediately: a hairline fracture in the joint, barely visible but enough to throw off the entire mechanism.
He grabbed a soldering iron and a magnifying lens, his hands steady as he worked. The knowledge came easily now, the steps unfolding in his mind like a blueprint.
As he worked, his thoughts drifted.
Night City was a brutal place, but it had its own kind of rhythm. The people here didn't care who you were or where you came from they only cared about what you could do. Viktor had been right about that.
Matthew wasn't sure where he fit into this world yet, but he was starting to figure it out.
The leg whirred to life, its servos humming as he tested the joint. Perfect.
He set it aside, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. His mind was still racing, ideas and possibilities swirling together in a chaotic blur.
The pull was there again, faint but undeniable.
New options presented themselves, each one clear in its purpose:
1. Precision Hands – Enhanced dexterity and control, perfect for delicate repairs and modifications.
2. Jury-Rigging – Improvised solutions using whatever materials are on hand.
3. Adaptive Circuits – The ability to integrate and enhance cyberware beyond its original specifications.
Matthew stared at the options, his chest tightening. He didn't know where these choices came from or why they kept appearing, but he couldn't deny their usefulness.
He focused on the third option, feeling the pull grow stronger.
Adaptive Circuits
The knowledge came in a rush, filling his mind with possibilities he hadn't considered before. He could see how to modify existing cyberware, pushing it beyond its limits. He could adapt parts, create new connections, and improve designs in ways that seemed impossible.
The prosthetic on his arm felt different now, almost like it was alive. He flexed his fingers, the chrome glinting in the dim light.
He wasn't sure what this power was or where it would lead him, but one thing was clear.
He wasn't just surviving in Night City. He was starting to thrive.