A few days later, Rebecca and Pilar rolled back into the ruins in their Goodwood , the old ride Falco had tuned and patched up so it no longer belched black smoke like a dying exhaust beast. The road in was still rough, but this time their nerves buzzed with anticipation instead of fear.
They parked outside the repurposed garage. A servo-skull hovered above the entrance, red lens glowing as it scanned them. After a confirming click that sounded almost like a polite greeting, it drifted inside, leading the way.
The workshop looked even more organized than before. Junk parts were sorted by type, alloys stacked in labeled piles, every wire and conduit placed with surgical precision.
Osiris stood at the central bench, mechanical tendrils welding sparks into a brilliant storm while shaping a new armguard.
"Yo, boss! Got the goods!" Rebecca hopped out of the car, voice laced with proud energy. She and Pilar hauled a heavy metal crate and a stuffed fiber bag from the back seat.
Osiris paused, crimson optics flickering toward them. "Efficiency: acceptable. Place them on the scanning platform."
They set the load beside the bench. A tendril extended, blue sensor light sweeping over the supplies with machine-speed precision.
"Scan complete. Inventory reads:
– One high-energy battery pack, 32% residual charge. Casing dented, minor electrolyte leakage.
– Seventeen assorted circuit boards, multiple models, several with burn damage.
– 3.5 kilograms of unidentified alloy fragments.
– Two cans of low-grade synth lubricant.
– Three encrypted data chips, unreadable.
Battery acceptable. The rest… substandard. Impurity levels high. Recycling yield: minimal."
Rebecca scratched her head, grimacing. "Yeah, time was tight. We scoured half the ruins for this junk. That battery almost cost us our skins , Maelstrom dogs caught wind and gave chase."
Pilar nodded, rubbing his neck at the memory.
Osiris said nothing. Instead, his tendril picked up a scorched circuit board, examining its intricate spiral nanocircuit. "Curious design… trades stability for extreme data throughput. This world's tech culture favors raw power over efficiency."
He turned the alloy fragment over. "Crude self-repairing coat… interesting theoretical foundation."
Rebecca and Pilar exchanged a glance. To them it was garbage; to him, it was insight.
After a moment, Osiris reached under the bench and drew out a rugged steel box. "Your compensation."
Inside was a gun , but not one born of Night City's chrome and style. It was brutalist, heavy, built like an industrial tool. Dark metal etched with vent channels and heat coils, grip wrapped in polymer. A portable piece of military theology.
"A plasma-based projectile weapon," Osiris said, tone as calm as if discussing a wrench. "Output has been limited for user safety. Rewritten control logic ensures stability. Capable of disabling unarmored or lightly armored targets. Continuous fire not advised , cooldown interval: 1.5 seconds."
He handed it to Rebecca. "Compatible with standard energy interfaces. Rechargeable through high-capacity cells or vehicle systems. Try it."
Rebecca took it carefully, breath catching. The gun felt alive , dense, humming with restrained heat. "Holy shit…" she muttered, her green eye glowing as she aimed down the sight. "This thing could vaporize a Wraith convoy."
Pilar leaned in. "Plasma? Real plasma? Corpo labs still can't get stable shots like that."
"The transaction is complete," Osiris said, already turning back to his work. "Next delivery: diverse alloy samples and newer neural-core cybernetics. Compensation will scale accordingly."
Rebecca and Pilar left with the weapon, still dazed. By the time they were back on the road, excitement overtook disbelief.
"You saw that blast coil design? Never seen anything like it!" Rebecca grinned.
"Yeah, but will Maine buy it? We traded scrap for a gun that looks like it belongs in a museum."
"He'll believe once he fires it himself."
Back at the crew's warehouse, Rebecca slammed the plasma handgun onto the table with a grin. The team circled around. Dorio lifted it, brows furrowing at the sheer heft.
Falco ran a scan, frowning deeper. "Energy signature's… stable as hell. But the design? Can't read half of it. Doesn't match any corp blueprint."
Maine said nothing. He took the weapon, walked to the firing range, and aimed at an old armor plate.
A deep hum filled the air , not a bang, but a rising vibration. A flash of blue-white tore through the air and hit the target.
The armor hissed, melted, and sagged into a smoking hole the size of a fist. Edges glowed blue from heat.
Silence.
Everyone stared.
Even Militech-grade weapons couldn't do that cleanly.
Maine lowered the gun slowly, ozone curling in the air. His voice came out low, gravelly.
"He…" he said, eyes fixed on Rebecca. "What else did that 'robed man' tell you?"