Becoming Astray - Chapter 4

Chapter Text

Could make your life hell, rather just have mine back. Done playing sidekick, not askin’ anymore. Hellman’s taking an AV in the Badlands.

A red lipped, green-haired fool, the start of a journey, naive and reckless. Addiction, mental instability, a pale boy stuffed into a suit: The magician reversed. The lovers: Difficult choices, two competing but compatible outcomes: A cat and a bat intertwined. The Moon is… Mystery, change. The unknown side of a coin… Who we might change into.

The historic Porsche 911 growls lovingly with its owner reclaiming the seat. Johnny turns to V, tapping the dash excitedly, glad to be back in the driver's seat. ‘Purrs like a dream.’

“Oh yeah?” She smirks knowingly before adjusting every dial on the dash before he slaps her hand away. It’s uncanny how tangible he seems. It makes her question who’s actually in ‘control’. She only knows that with every moment, her blockers become increasingly ineffective to his will.

‘All right oilfields. Wanna see what it looks where they f*ckin’ planted my ass.’

V ignores the comment, too fixated on the dash in bewilderment: It’s like a retro Nomad car, there’s no interface port to ‘jack in’. The car’s f*cking ancient, how the hell are they driving it? The panic has them veering close to a ditch.

She tries to distract him as she pulls the car into the city street shakily. V is not giving Johnny an opportunity to take over when she’s this muted. She wants to break the speed barrier as much as any other Solo, she’d just rather be in control to do it. Besides, there’s a NCPD hotspot nearby and there’s always a bounty on her head. V steadily eases off the gas, hands drumming over the wheel as the car jerks in response.

“Never realised the thing between you and Rogue was that serious.” V looks over nervously despite Johnny’s ease. She doesn’t see a need to visit the Northern Oilfields, even if it’s almost on their way. Road rules don’t matter once you get out of the city, right?

‘ Ah damn! ’ Johnny yelps, fumbling as she takes them around a sharp corner. He checks behind. Some deadbeat badge is calling them in. He’s not impressed by V’s hapless driving. Her eyes are wide with focus and a white-knuckled grip on the wheel. Johnny focuses on their destination, watching the city become increasingly sparse.

‘Damn right it was serious.’ A dart finds itself in his hand. Smoke clouds the car, a window goes down. He freely judges V’s poor driving posture, questioning how and when he should intervene. ‘ When we met up someone always died.’ There’s an outfitted BMW steadily gaining behind them, lights flashing in the rear.

“How romantic.” Noting his nerves, she burns rubber swerving behind a narrow street. The edge of the city begins rapidly approaching at her current speed, mauvering out of incoming traffic as the lights blur by. It’s not long before she catches wind of the thrill again. Johnny guides her to switch gears in a foreign manual motion. The rush of air around them heats her cheeks.

‘Definitely!’ he replies, holding on for digital life as the scent of rubber assaults their senses, focusing on the screech stalling his baby. ‘f*ckin’ dammit V! Coulda mentioned you can’t drive!’ At the very least, she hasn’t hit anything or anyone as they soar through the city. Johnny cringes.

“ Can drive. Your dumb car just has no ports!” V tears into Santo Domingo, headin’ for the edge of town. If she was in Atlanta, she’d expect more flashes of red and blue Now, pedestrians jump from her kill zone.

‘Remember the Basilisk tank?’ V turns to him, looking pale and flushed. He frowns. A pedestrian almost doesn’t make it, face-planting spectacularly. Ha! Entertainment and a ride. Right, the tank. ‘Compatibility error. Vik said you’re ‘far gone’, probably wouldn’t work anyway. Just drive, don’t check out.’ Daylight breaks down revealing glimmering skyscrapers significantly less sh*tty in the setting sun.

[New Pacific Highway 101, Northbound]

‘There was always something going on!’ Johnny shouts over the turbo’s flares. For being sh*t at stick shift, the kid’s not doing too bad. It grates his ears, said merc looks like a maniac with wild red hair.

‘Rogue had a gig, I had a gig! Music, that is. Anyway, Oil Fields up ahead!’ His beautiful baby’s got firepower one of a kind, shredding rubber through the streets, a barely in control vehicle at best. He tries not to mourn the loss of her pristine condition too much knowing V’s driving. The car grinds to a halt as they pull up to the Northern oilfields. He’s passed technically unless V takes those pills…

０１０１０１１０Z̴̧̢̭̟̦͎̗͋ 3̴̩͋̑ R̴̬͚̠̱̊̾̒̎ Ø̴̢̹̮̥̗͕͒̓ D̶͈̋̀ͅ A̴̛̙̩͚͓̜̙͕͓̅̋̀̇͘ͅ Y̵̢̞͕̱̑̒͒ ０１０１０１１０

Johnny watches her tapping away, her radiating anger mimics his own. Everything around them is inhabitable, dead for decades just like him; rotten, spoiled and old. He can’t actually see… He’s dead, after all, but, for all intents and purposes, this is his grave. He knows pieces of his root underneath them as V pulls his dog tags from the soil, now around her neck.

V revs the engine again, expressing her frustration while also respecting Johnny’s autonomy. Still, she can only wait so long, her blood boils at the thought of sharing more time with him. They saw his grassroots grave, she carved in his name, now it’s time to prevent her own dirt mound from existing. Sitting in the driver's seat ,V responds to Welles instead of addressing her frustration.

[V: how doin (ὀ⌓ὀ⑅)

MAMÁ: Dios mío, how you think? [my god]

Mi hijo, my son is dead. [my son]

But, am hanging in there

V: m sry

V ik sends regards]

V tries to ignore him, knowing he’s watching and disregarding her in turn. He can’t help it when he’s in her head, but their disagreement provides both of them with a distraction, and V an opportunity.

She feels the bottles in her back pocket. Almost empty and yet, never heavier. She closes her eyes, chucking the red pseudo-endotrizine away, far away from Johnny’s reach in his musings. He might figure it out but hopefully their emotional pitstop serves as a thorough mental block. It's the only reason she didn’t put up a fight at the detour.

V waits for the digitised consciousness impatiently from the car. She thinks that aside from her business relationship with Vik, Mamá and Misty… Would anyone miss her? Johnny’s got Kerry; Santiago; potentially Alt and undeniably, Rogue.

Even the ungrateful rocker's resting place is better off than the landfill she landed in. She’s seen the niche is dedicated to Johnny's memory at the North Oak Columbarium. The guy already has a plaque in town, what more does he need? Do mercs even get headstones?

While Johnny was sniffing out his dog tags, V was planning her goodbyes. If she lives through this, what is she going back to? Johnny Silverhand revolutionised the music industry, set up underground music studios and set off a nuke at Arasaka Towers… Word on the street says Johnny’s bandmate Kerry still defends the Samurai brand and their groupies live on. What’s she done aside from contributing to the Body Lotto’s daily count?Groaning longsufferingly, V tries to avoid thinking about her messy resurrection.

‘Wake the f*ck up samurai, we got a city to burn’.

It’s not so simple this time. She can see him outside the car, trying to waste time stalling.

‘ You’d die for me, right?’ His voice cuts through V’s thoughts. ‘ Sacrifice a soldier for a samurai?’ If it's him or V, he'll watch the world burn before he goes six feet below again.

V glares from her Agent, waiting for Johnny to climb the f*ck in. “Know you’re just an irritating hallucination, right? As second chances go, this is your last. ‘Legally’ a kid but refuse to be that naive .”

V sounds so young without a gun in her hand or fire in her eyes. Almost makes him want to change his mind, almost .

“ Get in. ”

Glitching, he appears in the passenger seat with a mocking smile towards the only person left he can annoy. ‘And you’re a walkin’ corpse. Should just wait ‘till your mind shrivels to nothin’ and frees up more space for me. Still talkin’ aloud, kid. Just lettin’ ya know.’

V groans into her hands, her foot hard on the accelerator as the oilfields pass them.

Despite there being no body to intern, the Columbarium niche reads:

[Son of a bitch who never gave up. A legend among legends.]

V wonders what hers will say if she finds Hellman too late.

０１０１０１１０Z̴̧̢̭̟̦͎̗͋ 3̴̩͋̑ R̴̬͚̠̱̊̾̒̎ Ø̴̢̹̮̥̗͕͒̓ D̶͈̋̀ͅ A̴̛̙̩͚͓̜̙͕͓̅̋̀̇͘ͅ Y̵̢̞͕̱̑̒͒ ０１０１０１１０

‘See what I'm getting at?’ He gives her an unimpressed look as V zips through the desert.

“Of course I can see, want me to hand over the wheel!”

‘Not the steering wheel you gonk! Wanna save your life. Pop some pseudo-endotrizine and scooch . Let me in the drivers seat, I'll get us to f*ckin’ Mikoshi. Blaze of glory, what do ya say?’ He knows V won’t give up so easily. ‘ Lemme at least live vicariously through ya. Might as well make good use of their time together… One last time?’

“So, you want both wheels.” She murmurs dryly thinking of Johnny storming Arasaka again. He won't stand a chance, she chucked those tablets miles into the Badlands. She needs to stay awake, stopping will only get the car shot at again.

‘I’ll bring Rogue. Old timer maybe, but still top charts. Still got a chance.’ He reminisces Alt and Rouge back together again.

“Dunno.” Maybe Johnny’s only chance. V feigns interest, “Honestly think it could work?”

‘With her experience, her resources ‘n’ chooms? Won't find anyone better in NC.’ Rogue knew how to find Hellman when nobody else could. If anyone can storm Arasaka Tower again, it’s Rouge. She’s never let him down.

V stiffens up, muscles locking. “Johnny- F-”

‘It's gotta work. Breach the tower, Alt cracks open Mikoshi, takes the chip. I get to corpo bash; win-win and I- Motherf*cker! Just great .’

Her hands shake on the wheel. It’s the last thing she sees.

Johnny slams on the breaks seeing the seizure incoming. ‘Seriously? Checking out? Why am I surprised?’

Wheel, shaking hands. Light. It’s the first she remembers.

‘No head trauma today then…’

Fine whining registers first, followed by a stiff dull ache. CHOOH2 petroleum hangs in the air, it’s a rancid recognisable scent. Vlashes out at the closest thing before tumbling from the wreck. There’s gasoline: heat. She’s coughing, lungs scratching for air. Hell happened? She was driving…

‘Jesus, V. If I had a heart, would’ve flatlined by now. Scared me, know that? Thought you were on your way out.’ Searching for this Hellman prick’s just killing her off faster…

‘Piss off. Clearly should’ve knocked my head harder, wouldn’t ya like that? No. Still here, for now.’

‘Shame. Flatline us both next time. f*ckin’ hell, V,’ he says exasperated. ‘Over ninety-four kay in Eds’ down the drain.’ Johnny sheds a mental tear at the state of his ride. He managed to prevent V from totalling it completely, but… Kid just smashed the windshield too. ‘ Braindead solo junkie, can’t even ‘preciate the ride! If you weren’t already dyin’, would kill you. Know that?’

‘Yeah, sure Johnny. Whatever you say.’ V squints the red away from her eyes. The car’s a wreck, but not entirely unsalvageable. She can’t find it in herself to be sorry though, just… Doesn’t care. V brushes her hair aside but the red continues dripping.

Bitch. ‘Lookin’ at you reminds me of the first time we met. Still see that same small-time merc, lil’ thief with her head in the clouds.’ He huffs in dismay. The vast, arid expanse of the desert stretches out before him. V’s head might be tossed lunch, but he knows his way to the RV. ‘Haven't changed a bit… Speakin’ of, should call anyone you want to say goodbye to.’

“The f*ck, seriously ?” Was it possible for Johnny to hit his head? “Worst case scenario, that what you expect?” She stretches, popping stiff cyberware and joints. With a frustrated swipes back her hair only for her hair to come back red, it’s blood. Ever glad for reinforced everything , V assesses the crumpled Porsche instead. Jackie fixed her car up one time, this is fine .

‘Risk's gonna be high regardless. If things don't go our way… ’ V’s tuned out of consciousness, what, three times today? sh*t, man. Maybe they’ll go his, instead. ‘Just goddamn do it.’

Is he for real? Surveying the wreck on Johnny’s 911… No wonder he’s sh*tting himself with rage. She shrugs him off, ‘Not really my style.’ There’s a distant silence as the ringing stops.

‘You do you.’ V wants to be difficult? Fine, he’ll play ball. Johnny slides his shades on, seeing rocky outcrops littered along the horizon. ‘Come a long way to get here, haven't we? To think it all started in a dogsh*t landfill.’

“Then you tried to kill me.” The damage is superficial, not enough to worry over. V starts heading towards the pickup zone and rendezvous PZRV.

‘See! Exactly what I mean, tryna save your chrome now. Lemme do that or I can take over.’ Stuck in the head of some teen wanna-be merc, how is this his life?

Unacceptably, both options have the engram overpowering her. So much for grand gestures of saviourism. He’s a petulant child, as Vik would say.

‘Anyone you gotta talk to now's the time. Pills can wait.’ Kid’s jeans are scorched and bloody shirt ripped. He feels the ache of their limbs and a vaguely sharp pain V hasn’t registered yet. Could be from the bullet wound. ‘What about the Latina chick, Judy? Even I've grown to like her, oughtta to know that.’

V looks for a hidden agenda before pulling up speed dial. Agent survived the crash, f*ck yeah. Her mouth is dry, maybe from adrenaline, maybe anxiety. Johnny’s comment isn’t completely without merit. She stops short, Mamá Welles should have replied.

[MAMÁ: Jesucristo! Lived under our roof! [Jesus Christ]

Have decency not treat me like some stranger just met!

V: lo siento mucho (ʃᵕ̩̩ ᵕ̩̩) [I’m really sorry]

was gonna call]

‘Got your brain-space, V. But lack of concentration’s on you.’

V slides the messages aside for the moment, one thing at a time. Jude picks up without a moment of tone. “Hey. Judy.”

“Oh hey, V.” Her voice is tentative. Hesitant: but curious . “What's cracking? Didn’t expect to hear from ya, yet. How’s the job?”

‘C’mon, kid. Walk and talk, yeah? Places to be, people to shoot.’

V laughs at her lighthearted tone, not sure if it’s for show or as she follows the engram, lost in the desert. Surprisingly, the reception’s great but, her hand hasn’t stopped shaking. “Time we uh, went swimming…” She can picture them in tight wetsuits pressed against each other, almost as good as when they took them off.

There’s a hum of agreement, “A lot of fun, wasn't it?”

Get straight to the point, V. No time for this . “What you said then. ‘Bout what you sensed in me: Death…’ V thinks of Misty’s unfinished tarot; Delamain’s pleas to help; Vik’s reluctance. “Should've been anything else, something nice . Gotta face it too.”

Her tone is sweet and understanding, beyond what V deserves. “Hey, not like it was your fault.”

V can picture her with welling eyes, biting her lip in fear of false hope. V doesn’t want to give it, but still… She downed the tabs already, isn’t the hard part over? “…Here's hoping it comes out better next time.”

“ This time , you mean. Listen, whatever it is you're gonna try…” How’d she- “Know you, alright? Be careful. ‘Kay?”

Her throat feels parched trying to get the right words out. She nods instead. “Thanks, do my best. Can't be sure it'll work but… Gonna try,” V looks over at Johnny who nods in agreement. She wants to be rid of him, not join his suicide bomber do-over. Tabs’ll digest, and then Hellman will help her. She’s intimidating as f*ck , she’ll convince him.

“Waitin’ for my postcard at the end.” Her words are parted and uncertain, unlike everything she does.

Her shaking finger hovers over the call button. “Cya on the other side, Jude,” promise . There’s another text awaiting her attention, V gives her thanks as they close in on civilization.

[MAMÁ: Nuestra casa es tu casa [our house is your home]

V: thx Guadalupe (′ꈍᴗꈍ‵)

MAMÁ: Mamá 2 u. Not seen you since ofrenda.

Valentinos no see you.

Bring Judy. Vuelve a casa] [come home]

Johnny hops down eagerly from some nearby rock. ‘Think we oughta go with Rogue, storm Arasaka. Best shot of getting to Mikoshi, findin’ a way to separate us…’ Kid wants choice ? Hell, he’ll give her ‘choice’. ‘That is, if that’s what you still want…’

He paces alongside V, steering her in the right direction when necessary. Would be dead without him, where’s the respect? f*ckin’ waste of space bein’ stuck here. Need a smoke in one hand, an electric DeLuze Orphean six-string in the other. Not bein’ a walkin’ talkin’ GPS.

The desert air dust coagulates to her skin; it smells like sandpaper; sawdust with a metallic coated aftertaste. Johnny phrases separation like a question, like he doesn’t know . He phrases it like it isn’t the one thing she’s wanted from the very beginning. Miraculously, she manages to hate him more.

His playing nice doesn’t mean she wants to live any less. Still, if he wants to play pretend, V’s the master of bullsh*t. “No matter what, still dyin’ Johnno . No goin’ back.” Determined, V aggressively types out her next response.

[V: can’t come back

on a job. lot goin on (⌐▨_▨)

MAMÁ: Stop being baby. Home is tu familia [your family]

You are mi familia [my family]

V: soon

Misty mentioned u

MAMÁ: You right, me encanta la perra [I love the bitch]

Lost two child that day.

V: dont mean that. smy fault (>⌓<｡)]

'Kind of tough deciding which of your friends get to die, isn’t it?’ V looks up at his tone. ‘‘Wonder who you’ll bring down next because it’ll be someone; Jackie; T-Bug; Evelyn.’ V gapes at him, he smirks teasingly. He’s in her head, know’s how she’s wired. It’s too easy .

０１０１０１１０Z̴̧̢̭̟̦͎̗͋ 3̴̩͋̑ R̴̬͚̠̱̊̾̒̎ Ø̴̢̹̮̥̗͕͒̓ D̶͈̋̀ͅ A̴̛̙̩͚͓̜̙͕͓̅̋̀̇͘ͅ Y̵̢̞͕̱̑̒͒ ０１０１０１１０

‘Right to be paranoid. Too bad won’t help them,’ Johnny hums. ‘All this? Big waste of time. f*ckin’ why! Care ‘bout a corpo-f*cking Swede?’

V slams open the door to the low-maintenance hideout, the pretence of stealth long forgotten. It's empty . V wonders if they’re expecting her. ‘Created a shard to digitise the soul, ruined my f*ckin life!’

‘Now that just hurts. Got yourself shot, remember? We’re both here ‘cuse of him.’

‘Gotta retrieve detes from Hellman. Made The Relic, caused all this.’ Soulkiller killed Johnny, consciousness transferred to the Net, immortalising him but killin’ him too. Find Rogue, find Hellman That’s the name of the game . ‘You’re not one to be sympathetic,’ V laughs, chaotic epiphany emerging. ‘Oh-ho-ho. Get what's going on here! You're jealous .’ She throws any-and-all resources away. Will either attract attention or scare them into hiding.

‘Jealous? About a corpo rat? You finally lost it? Happy f*ckin' trails, V.’ He leans back, watching as V ransacks the joint.

“C’mon Johnny, where’s the flavourful commentary ?” ‘Cording to the parameters should be fifteen left, plus Hellman.

‘What the crash didn’t take out, looks like Rogue did. But, can’t find sh*t .’

He straightens up, ‘Not what ‘m worried ‘bout, V.’

V smells a hint of bloody iron as she enters, weapon drawn towards the smell. They look up: Startled, bloodied bandage in hand.

“sh*t! f*ckin’ mercs.” The guard retreats from his wound’s dressing immediately upon sight. “Who sent you?” V takes a menacing step closer, silhouetted by the hallway light to disguise herself. “Hey, go easy!”

‘Corpo rat-sheep. ‘Bout’a scream ‘n’ run. Shut him up.’ V uses the scope of her gun, pistol-whipping their head flyin’ back. Should know better than to get so close. ‘f*cker doesn't know who to be scared of more: You or Arasaka.’

“Don't take this personally,” V says, guard’s head clunking against the cabinet still conscious. “Seem to recall you were gonna tell me where Hellman is.” V waits patiently as they gather their bearings.

They spit in her face, “Not telling you a thing, ain’t givin’ you an Eddie.”

Johnny wipes it away, hand coming away with blood. ‘Sounds like you caught a seasoned one, V. Gonna cash that check or toss it back?’ She could just as easily quickhack his neuralware, make him do the deed himself.

V has no idea what that means but knows how to make a corpo bitch squeal. Footsteps storm up the stairway below with repetitive heavy boots. V pivots, aiming out the doorway. “Last chance to be the only one standin’.”

‘Looks like new ‘chooms’ are here. Don’t ditch. Leavin’ your flank exposed.’ God, how has she only died once? Keepin’ V alive should make him a saint.

V turns to the ‘Saka soldier, no weapon drawn on her yet. “Not too talkative, huh?” She barely aims in her sight as four armoured guards round the corner. Bang . Blood hits the wall. Bang . He falls flat. Bang. They crash into each other. A shot slams close to her head.

She steadies her grip, feeling metal beneath flesh like its second nature. Breathe in, out . Bang. She makes sure her new ‘choom’ sees the four action shots, each point-blank in the head. Kerenzikov and Reflex Booster give an unparalleled edge: No need to aim, they're so close.

She quirks an eyebrow at her Corpo rat. “Hellman or you’re next.” They might not piss their pants, but it’s a close thing. Maybe an experienced corporate stuge, but clearly never met an angsty teen with a ticking time bomb in the form of a terrorist.

V lets them stew, dragging their comrade’s bodies to join them. At the second one, they’re ready to talk. “Hellman’s alive, he’s alive!”

V drops an armoured corp with a clutter. “Where?”

“Takin’ him to the Sunset Motel.” Good . Bang.

０１０１０１１０Z̴̧̢̭̟̦͎̗͋ 3̴̩͋̑ R̴̬͚̠̱̊̾̒̎ Ø̴̢̹̮̥̗͕͒̓ D̶͈̋̀ͅ A̴̛̙̩͚͓̜̙͕͓̅̋̀̇͘ͅ Y̵̢̞͕̱̑̒͒ ０１０１０１１０

[Sunset Motel, Badlands]

V reads her messages with a cringe as she climbs the hotel steps, two more bodies downstairs. Eight more to go. Still no Rogue .

[17:48 dinner? tequila?? ( •ᴗ•)⸝𐃯⸜(•ᴗ• )

MAMÁ: Good. Gracias. [thank you]

You. Judy. Will c u there

Or else, will send Valentinos on u]

V adjusts her silencer. f*ckin’ knew this would happen. Until she’s not actively dying, almost everything can wait. V kicks open the door. A man sits unconscious, a guard binding wounds beside him. Boom . Then there’s not. f*ckin’ finally.

She turns the seat across from Hellman and slaps . He jolts awake. “Hey.” He’s more blonde than she expected, with glasses too. Nova .

‘Suede leather loafers? Corpo’s all wrapped up in a suit, not even a stain. Must be a deluxe service,’ he jokes.

She’ll soon change that. Pristine in his suit despite the wrapped injured knee, Hellman looks around in alarm, jolting backwards away from her.

His voice is rustic, no doubt a little sand-filled. “Where am I? What is this place?”

He looks around but V keeps his attention on her. “Motel. Middle of nowhere.”

“Any specific middle?” Adjusting his glasses, he peers at her curiously. He’s taller when he sits up. He’s too calm.

V scrutinises him for weaknesses: Knee compression bandaged, not broken. Aid probably received from his ‘protection detail’. V smirks. Not very protected, is he? Johnny takes note of the sitch, staunching to find the best corner to watch from. V straightens her posture to mirror his as the man compartmentalises his bearings. “Doesn't matter, not leaving here by yourself.”

‘Not the only one with a plan, kid . Keep going’. Almost there.

Hellman leans, favouring one side but still too smug. “I’ve long awaited this moment to look the latest Afterlife legend in the eye. I must say I am not disappointed.”

sh*t, V tries to maintain her composure but his words set her on edge. It's easier when her marks know nothing about her, part of why she changed her name. Makes things easier. Otherwise, would know her past… What’s been sacrificed; lost, and what little she has left.

Names have history, and she’d rather be a quiet, lethal, legend than another target in someone’s sites. Her bounty’s high enough as it is without some Arasaka elite knowing her name. Knowing someone’s dying seems to put people’s conscience in perspective about killing some kid. But, it means he knows, at least in parting, how desperate she is. And that makes her dangerous .

He scratches his chin with a ringed finger, realising V is determined and will likely resort to violence knowing her background. “What do you want, a Biochip ?”

V eases off, finally somewhere without an argumentative response. “Your tech’s killin’ me. Silverhand's construct. In. My. Head. Literally drivin’ me to cyberpsycosis. Know it’s gonna get worse. That is until you remove it.” He adjusts on the hard seating, looking wry. “That? Nothin’ like the Billboards I saw. Thought you’d wanna advertise the rockerboy. Not even a Silverhand construct ad.”

“Silverhand?” He raises a manicured brow revealing curious blue eyes. “That's impossible . Where did you get this ‘biochip .’ ” He leans forward and Johnny imitates his actions.

Hellman remains calm in the face of V’s threatening aura. “If you're telling the truth,” He makes a wide gesture with his hands after listening to V rant, “You slotted in a new , experimental, version of it. The Relic…”

V interjects, “Know you can't just yank it out. My ripper-”

He almost stands. “You showed that to some f*cking street doctor !” His resolve finally breaks at the potential for leaked secrets. “Who else knows?” He asks hastily.

“Needed help, or think downing a ‘Saka AV‘s plan B?” V rolls her eyes, Vik’s an expert . “The difference of the chip being something more…”

Hand raised, Johnny says his two Eds. ‘Aware.’

V scowls in Johnny’s direction. “Aggressive,” V corrects.

Hellman tracks V’s line of sight. “This was Saburo Arasaka’s personal commission he oversaw himself.” He states matter-of-factly. Better not be tryna offload the blame: Saburo’s dead . Whoops. “Because of you, the project is a success. This is a true breakthrough.”

V paces around the room, weapons muzzle roaming freely. “Yeah, Yeah. Your tech works. Great,” Hellman shakes his head lightly, like ‘tutting’ an infant. “Now get. It. Out of me!”

Hellman looks at the corner of the room where V keeps glancing. “I would have to see it first”

Johnny comes over. ‘Well, well.’ He stands on Hellman's right, blocking the door and looking down at Hellman unimpressed.

V takes a long step back. V side eyes Johnny awkwardly who mimes slicing a throat with an amused grin. Looking into someone's chrome is one thing, checking out the mental imprint of her psyche? It’s somethin’ else. “Whoa. Just met! Haven't built up that sorta trust yet.”

He gives her a blank look that freezes her systems. His own implant glares privilege and wealth back at her. “How did you think this was going to go?” He points to her chipware socket above the nape of her neck, behind her ear. “If you want me to help you, I must… Examine you.” The words are succinct and well-delivered. She hates it.

Fear cripples her. She knew this wouldn’t be a typical interrogation goin’ in, but this puts her completely at his mercy: Vulnerable, not like how Vik patches her up. She always gets the final say in everything. Looking at Johnny reminds her this is her only choice. “…Okay.”

V watches as he pulls out an interface plug from his left wrist. V lrsnd forward as it slots into her skin. He could implant a virus, could shut down her systems, or plain attack her and she wouldn’t be able to do a thing.

There's pressure, but it’s not uncomfortable. She hates being this close. When Hellman turns, his eyes are an electric neon blue.

Johnny slips off his shades, meeting Hellman’s other side and gestures. ‘Can't believe Suit's the one, gonna help us.’ One of us, at least. He leans back, shades returned as Hellman processes V’s cerebral cortex. Impressive, isn’t it?

“Hmm, unbelievable. Looks like… Oh. f*ck.” Hellman snatches his interface plug away, receding rapidly into his wrist. V feels the yank and the snapback, she holds her neck in discomfort, frowning. Hellman shakes his head, detached. His tone is dry and humourless. “What a pity, I won't be able to… Examine it fully.”

‘Yeah, real ‘shame’. Could be his guinea pig too.’

V counters, “Tell me how to get rid of it.” Behind him, Johnny lays out on the mattress. V wonders if the pills are finally taking effect. He looks naturally smug so its hard to tell.

“I'm afraid I have bad news. Your neural network has completely deteriorated.” He leans back, face remaining unperturbed. “It can no longer function independently from the chip.” His eyes wander back to her. “The only thing I could do-”

‘Woo-hoo. It’s bargainin’ time!’ As Johnny lays on the mattress, he hopes to hell that Swedenf*ck’s answer doesn’t involve anything drastic , or plan-altering .

“-Clinic in Sweden. They'll help you through the terminal stages,” His gaze lazily goes towards the ceiling and back, “Minimise the pain.”

V stares at the corpo. Looks way too relaxed, almost amused. Reminds her of early Johnny, after the rage but before the resentment. “But- Said the project was in trials. You dunno how it'll end.”

The downlight casts haunting shadows onto his expression. “Oh, I do .” He sits up, face completely void with shadow. “I just saw the construct devouring your brain . It's programmed to take over its new environment. At all costs. Your little ‘meat brain’ is helpless against it.”

V scowls, there must be some mistake. But Hellman’s expression stays stoic, if anything, vaguely amused. “So... No matter what, sooner or later, the engram… Wins?” V looks at Johnny who strategically avoids her gaze.

“At this moment, Silverhand remains your greatest problem. That seems to be exactly his style, given his legacy.”

‘Huh. I see my reputation's grown into Arasaka legend.’

She chews her lip. Johnny’s not as argumentative as usual. Hellman’s been helpful, but no corpo gives out information for free. The thing is, Koch thought she had power and control, swine like Grayson will beg; steal; bot; and barter their way to survival. But Hellman… Hellman has all the cards and knows it. Worse , he knows how to talk his way out of any problem, and seems to know who she is. f*ckers too smart for his own goddamn good.

‘Any data’s f*ckin’ useless without him, don’t kill ‘im yet. Sweet, here comes the cavalry.’

V hears footsteps and accepts the oncoming distraction for what it is. She responds to Mamá, the friendlier badass bar owner as the other approaches. Even Padre once said that not only does Mamá Welles have a good heart, but she's tougher than any ganger in the Heywood district.

[20:10 Or else, will send Valentinos on u]

V: won’t come 2 that. always keep promises x]

The door creaks open and Rogue steps through. “Anders Hellman. Alive? What a surprise.” She kicks the door closed, assessing the knee bandage, V’s tense posture and Hellman’s clear interest in the conversation’s continuation. “Thought V'd kick your head in by now. Good one, kid. Need him talkin’.”

Hellman turns to her feigning hurt. “What is she doing here?”

V smirks knowing Rogue would find them if they didn’t find her first. She’s wearing different clothes and smells like gunpowder. “She’s got a few questions of her own for you. Play nice, might even save your ass from my raging hormones or somethin’. Almost done here, Rouge.”

“We’ll see.” V steps back, a little winded from her light interrogation. She leans on the wall to watch as Rogue takes over. “The blueprints .”

‘Better than nothing, as long as we find someone fluent in technobabble.’

Rogue turns to her, ignoring Hellman while he sweats. “What will you do with him?”

V looks over at Johnny looking almost asleep, then back to Hellman’s finally nervous demeanour. His jaw is tight and his hands are stiff. “…Haven't decided yet?” V responds sheepishly.

Rogue’s fierce eyes narrow, “You can’t be serious.”

‘You tell her, Rouge!’

V shuffles, blocking the view of Hellman. “You know me, can be impulsive .” V never understood good cop bad cop. If V’s bad cop, Rouge’s… Worse.

She glances behind V before taking in nuances missed originally. “He's all yours. Give you three some space, ‘ll be out front.” She gets one good look at Hellman’s pained grimace before she pulls the door behind her.

‘Great. Best interrogator in NC just left the room.’

V spins on her heel, ready to prod the corpo sh*tstorm. “What exactly is goin’ on in my head?”

He looks into her eyes, sending chills down her spine. “You tell me because apparently, we’re a party of three .” V points her thumb towards the door Rogue just stepped through with a questioning glance. “What's it like to have two personalities?” “Because it's not like you're hearing voices. You're both yourself and Silverhand simultaneously . Two psyches moulding into one. Or, is it one psyche cleaving in two?” He gestures as if explaining to a child… Her muscles are limp and her breath gets caught. She almost forgets to breathe. Way to hit a nerve.

V mentally switches off, the doorframe becoming her lifeline.“Not here for a philosophy BD,” braindance VR.

“It's neurobiology , and your evidence just confirmed my hypothesis.”

V eyes Johnny cautiously. If there’s a chance Hellman can actually cure her, Johnny might just change his tune. “...Can see him. Talk to him.” Johnny sits up from the bed behind Hellman at being verbally acknowledged.

“You're not talking but yes, I understand. Have you noticed the construct's influence on your decision-making?” Johnny glances her way looking pensive, holding his chin.

He staunches over the bed, treading on the clean sheets effortlessly because he’s weightless. ‘Geez, give it a rest.’

She's given breadth when it comes to decisions with the voice in her head, and that’s all he is when it comes down to it. “Maybe he has a different opinion, but it can't make me do anything agreed hundred percent.” Given Hellman’s still alive, whatever information she can help him gather, he can use to save her.

He tuts, no doubt considering her another naive street rat in need of babying. “It’s not as if one of you wins the ‘debate’. The scale simply shifts , slowly but surely. It is not a matter of choice .” V suddenly feels small as Hellman continues. She knew this conversation would be difficult, but it’s still confronting. “You will do things once unthinkable, at least to your old self. ” He pushes up his lenses.

She thinks back to how she allegedly ‘scared the hell out of Misty’. She’s become ruthless about killing, not even keeping score anymore. Probably wracked up bout twenty-seven or so just within the last few days.

“You know exactly who he was; a fanatic; a terrorist; a suicide bomber. ” Johnny treads around her, leaving her sight.

Advice a little too late, V thinks as Hellman’s sharp eyes gleam with interest. Johnny’s actions only reaffirm her hypothesis: She’s really in over her head.

‘f*ck me, who's trying to mess with your head now?’ He extinguishes his smoke on Hellman’s blazer, suddenly appearing. V winces. ‘ Make sure he regrets this, pretty please.’ A new smoke replaces the old.

Hellman looks away contemplative, speaking delicately as if she will suddenly snap. “I believe it would be better for you to consider clinical isolation at this stage.” He has no idea how close he is to projected danger.

The fake smoke fills her lungs, she coughs. “ Least he doesn’t whor* himself out like you .”

Hellman quirks a brow, amused. “Are you defending him?” V stills, sh*t. Is she? “Or, is that Johnny speaking now?” Johnny looks down at the mad scientist, judging. “Oh, let me guess. He already tried to take over your body. You know, just for a little while.”

V physically growls, wanting to rip him limb from limb but the rage isn’t hers and doubt lingers.

She knows all about Johnny’s ‘secret’ dates with Rogue, and underage ‘drink’ fests. She woke up smelling of cigs and tequila too often. ‘...Don’t you though?’

Tinted shades shift in her direction. ‘ It’s just a little fun.’

“Johnny ,” V pleads. She’s already taken the meds, but she wants to know the truth, how little control she has going forward. Why isn’t he asleep yet?

‘ Kidding. But watch, our suit's gettin’ ready to talk your head off.’ He finally sits behind Hellman, enjoying the f*ckfest unfold. Clinical isolation? Best joke since the tarot. ‘Don’t play well with others.’

V looks up nodding, agreeing with his assessment and eying Hellman appropriately. “No thanks, don’t play well with others,” V shoots out defensively. “Just playing for time? Tryna convince me you're useless?” The grip of the power pistol feels heavy in her hand. Hellman shakes his head in disappointment.

“Can just shoot you in the head, save us both some time.” V thinks of the five corp bodies stuffed in a maintenance closet a few buildings over. Would she have done that a few months back, before The Relic?

Johnny taps impatiently. ‘Ah, finally.’ Not much longer now.

Hellman holds his hands up and surrenders. “I hope we can come to an understanding, one of you . That is certainly in your best interest, ‘V’. I will try to help you if you come with me to Arasaka. I can test the best method of removal there.”

V snorts, waving the gun at the corpo-rat . “ Try don’t cut it.” V feels a surge of pent-up energy. Looked for this dickward for days! f*ck all he has to offer! “Tryna buy your way to a promotion, at my expense? Not a f*cking lab rat, guinea pig, whatever!”

His palms slacken, almost scoffing at her. “Do you even realise how much data is in your head? Even if I can't help you, the data must be saved.”

‘Well f*ck me sideways. Corpo-f*ck just admitted you're right.’ Johnny looks at the slime in a suit. Point to V this round. “Forget the ‘terminal program’. Forget Arasaka!”

Hellman shakes his head in what is becoming an obnoxious motion. “Got any other ideas, Johnny? The complete project documentation is yours if you cooperate. Arasaka offered quite the sum for it.”

“You f*ckin’ just call me Johnny?” Smoke blows from her face and V feels an uptick. The door swings, bending and out of place.

f*ck this , she needs some air. Rogue can finish the rest.

０１０１０１１０Z̴̧̢̭̟̦͎̗͋ 3̴̩͋̑ R̴̬͚̠̱̊̾̒̎ Ø̴̢̹̮̥̗͕͒̓ D̶͈̋̀ͅ A̴̛̙̩͚͓̜̙͕͓̅̋̀̇͘ͅ Y̵̢̞͕̱̑̒͒ ０１０１０１１０

V slams the door, not caring if it ever opens again, “What. The. f*ck!” V catches herself on the outside wall as her vision goes sideways. “Arasaka prick! Who the hell does that corpo-rat think he is?” She checks her Agent, trying to ignore pangs of hunger and the scent of gunpowder as she clutches the flimsy wood. She sees red as she tries to read the screen.

[MAMÁ: Ahí te veo, cuídate [see you, take care]

Don’t want pray 4 yr soul

Or bury you next x ]

Johnny turns to her on the opposite wall, “Dunno kid, but don’t wanna find out. Should sit down, rest.” His voice is gruff with disuse.

It’s getting late, she’ll reply in the morning, sort out timings. She keeps her promises after all. Right now, rusted metal stairs trickle down endlessly below her. On her third step, she misses, sending her careening into a beam. ‘sh*t ,’ the railing groans under her grip. ‘Think you might be right. Just… Got up too fast is all.’

Johnny waits at the bottom. “Uh, huh. You sure?” He watches as V makes full use of the guardrails, sometimes taking two shoes a step. “Don’t got all night. Can’t be that bad if you’re makin’ light.” V’s crumpled form falls on the fifth-last step, swearing.

“That was your ticker. Don't need you flatlinin’ while Hellman’s still standing.” Johnny takes a long drag of what should be sweet, sweet nicotine. Except, without the fun bits. “It’ll pass, kid. Shouldn’t be long now.” He blows smoke into the air, soon it’ll be real.

God, does he ever f*ckin’ shut up? “Blah blah blah.” The rail concaves as V grits her teeth through sudden flaring pain in her abdomen, quickly flooding her head between wrenching breaths. “f*ck. Arasaka.” V glares daggers at the terrorist in her head. “Blah blah, smash Mikoshi. Died f*cking fifty years ago! When are you going to leave me alone !”

Smoke drifts slowly. If he concentrates it stays suspended in air. With measured movements, he grinds the imaginary vice, snuffing it out. ‘ You really are turnin’ into me.’ It makes the whole process easier.

f*ck him, always thinks he’s right, even if he’s probably not wrong. Anger flares, giving her renewed energy to cling to the railing as she stands. “Can't say I'm excited ‘cause you’re a manipulator; an egotist and a cynic.” V prods her finger at the man with venom. Every fibre of her being is alight with hate for him.

“ Every time you open your mouth you gotta bury someone!” She’s wheezing as the words catch up to her, she trades one arm of support to cradle her midsection. Everything aches. Is this the pills? Shouldn’t be doin’ this. Maybe an Air-Hypo might-

He smiles, swaggering over slowly. It’s worth being prodded. “Looks like you picked up my quick wit and charm too.”

Two combat boots stray in the corner of her vision, out of reach.

‘ As I said, V. Out with the old, in with the new. Nothin’ personal.’ He leans, this time, he feels the scrape of metal under the hands that aren’t yet his.

There’s a pack of smokes nearby, practically calling her name. She craves it.

‘At the rate you check out? See! Doin’ it again!’ He tuts. V’s hardly even usin’ the thing.

“Argh!” The pain spikes, but Johnny doesn’t move, unphased. May- Maybe should reply to Mama W- Welles now. She’s just so, so exhausted.

‘Saving you serious heartache. Said your goodbyes, just let go.’ He’ll make sure to put it to good use.

The strain of holding on, almost as if reactive to his words, has her falling ass first. The railing snaps and she collapses and chokes on the pain. Does he know what’s going on with her? Where the hell is Rogue? “‘Byes? Wha-”

He smiles softly, finally squatting down to meet her face. “Saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“Johnny, whatcha do?” She curls up, Johnny merging into two from split visions. Didn’t think that was possible for an engram . “Johnny? Wha- Wh- Ahh!” Red drips onto her boot: Blood, more than before. “f*ck you do!”

He pities V, so young and so foolish . ‘Fate gave me another shot.’ Johnny cups V’s chin. Their organic eyes are hot and angry, he can feel it. The jaw, so tense he briefly worries for their teeth. ‘Won’t let you trap me somewhere.’ Yes, for a second lease on life, it’ll do just nicely.

“f*ckinin’ leech!” V croaks out, holding her head as colours seize into a kaleidoscope of pain.

‘In your head, kid.’ Johnny taps, and V’s head moves. V’s blood-speckled arm mimics his own. ‘Knew what you were planning. Now exactly where I want you.’

f*ck, she can’t breathe! “The elevator ,” She’s panting, her own hands merging into retro chrome and inked skin. “You- You did something in the elevator…”

“Switched the contains. Knew you’d pull a f*ckwhit move like this.” V’s stumbling too much for words. Johnny blips out, leaning down behind her. “Let me guess, why?” She nods mutely. “Only reason we made it this far, same reason as you: To survive .” Back in front of her, he leans on the railing, right in her face. A stray tear trickles down what will soon be his face. “Put in a good word with the man downstairs for me.”

She hears the words from her own mouth. He speaks the words, but she’s the one saying them. Once glitching, Johnny’s aged and proud expression feels solid above her. Her skin feels on fire, burning her out. Her eyes sting with all-encompassing pain along her nerves.

“Back in the game, V. Enjoy a taste of your own goddamn medicine for once.”

The spoken thoughts rattle around her head as the world blinks out.

In. V knows Johnny's saying something, but can't make sense of the words.

Hold. What an insignificant way to die. The stairs greet her. Blood-speckled hands lay beside her.

Out. Two pairs of shoes are the last thing she sees, neither are Johnny’s.

０１０１０１１０Z̴̧̢̭̟̦͎̗͋ 3̴̩͋̑ R̴̬͚̠̱̊̾̒̎ Ø̴̢̹̮̥̗͕͒̓ D̶͈̋̀ͅ A̴̛̙̩͚͓̜̙͕͓̅̋̀̇͘ͅ Y̵̢̞͕̱̑̒͒ ０１０１０１１０

76 2E There is nothing.

01000101 01101110 01100111 01110010 01100001 01101101 There’s no pain.

Emptiness is an all-encompassing darkness that swallows light; time; senses. Distance and direction are consumed by the void. Time has no meaning. Existence is suspended in an endless expanse of nothingness. There is nothing.

01100011 01101111 01101110 01110011 01100011 01101001 01101111 01110101 01110011 01101110 01100101 01110011 01110011 76 2E The perception of duration is elusive. Her senses are stripped of recognition. The stillness is disorienting, amplifying her solitude. The expanse stretches. Touch is unfamiliar, sounds are six feet beyond her comprehension. She is timeless, eternal.

57 61 6b 65 20 75 70 2E 01101111 01110110 01100101 01110010 01110010 01101001 01100100 01100101 01110000 01110010 01101111 01110100 01101111 01100011 01101111 01101100 The void is frighteningly familiar. Like a warm friend; and a calculating enemy.

The void darkens, shrouding like a cloud, the eye of the storm within an abyss.

There’s a chill, the first thing she feels. The texture of the dark prison ripples and echoes. Murmurs of sensation penetrate the darkness. The acoustics are unfamiliar, all light and perception washed clean and tainted simultaneously. The expanse suffocates and dilates.

She is cold.

01110011 01110101 01100011 01100011 01100101 01110011 01110011 01100110 01110101 01101100 57 61 6b 65 20 75 70 2E The process has no discernable start or finish. It simply is, as if it has always been. But patience is not a virtue without a cost.

Imperceivable nothingness turns into inconsequential grey hues and murky depths. Without discernible features, the presence of her consciousness becomes increasingly prominent. It’s indistinguishable from nothing, just as fragmented as the wisps of grey shrouding her vision.

44 75 6E 6E 6F 20 68 6F 77 20 74 68 69 73 20 77 6F 72 6B 73 2E 0D 0A 01000100 01100101 01110110 01101001 01100011 01100101 01110010 The essence of acoustics are swallowed by the emptiness. But in the darkness, there is more.

A white noise, ice-cold movements, and echoes of pain. Torment and fear surround her in waves. Yet, everything is still; nothing moves. She’s not floating, there’s just - nothing. The harder she looks, the more the world shrinks .

No ground beneath her feet, no air to breathe… Nothing. She has no idea why she’s floating, or not floating; no light, no shadows, and no visual stimuli.

Why does the abyss reject her? Nothingness is calm and sanitary . But she shifts, not of her own accord, towards the end.

01100101 01101101 01101111 01110110 01100101 01100100 43 61 6E 20 79 6F 75 20 68 65 61 72 20 6D 65 3F An echo prods at her mind. The chill grows stronger, willing her awake. It’s a slow but insistent voice. The grip tightens to an ice-like burn as the sensation twists into awareness. Disorientation grapples her mind, something’s wrong. The pressure in her head intensifies as the once-endless abyss sends her to the border’s edge. 00 5T 4T U5 0410

Where is she? Flickers of faces that disintegrate before recognition. Images of Judy; Koch; Hellman shroud her vision, and then… Nothingness takes its hold again. Except, something else stirs.

She’s disoriented, and can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong.

Her head throbs with pain, and her thoughts are a jumbled mess. She clutches her temples, trying to regain her bearings. The fibres of her being are nothing more than strands attempting to reweave themselves. There’s no guide to follow, no form, it’s missing. The usual cues connecting her to physical reality are nonexistent.

Took you long enough

It’s a warm sensation, she wades towards the familiarity. The abyss fights back.

4B 6E 6F 77 20 79 6F 75 27 72 65 20 74 68 65 72 65 20 73 6F 6D 65 77 68 65 72 65 2E 0X 80 0F 09 06 Close enough. Look into the abyss long enough, the abyss looks back. 01010010 01100101 01101100 01101001 01100011

It’s disjointed and jarring, but the unfamiliar thoughts stir recognition. She fights her way through the current.

01000010 01101001 01101111 01100011 01101000 01101001 01110000

That presence… It’s familiar. She knows it.

The void lulling tranquillity seizures the opportunity to emerge with unparalleled force. It’s like waging a war against a relentless unyielding mentality. But the warmth nears, and the abyss cowardly shrivels back before it immediately, like it knows its place.

01000101 01110010 01110010 01101111 01110010 00111010

The icy surface subsides as her psyche breaks through. There’s coolness between her fingers and burning sweat on her face. Sound finds her first, the screeching buzz of electricity; a leaking faucet; and laboured breaths. But, she’s not alone.

‘ J̷̩͗̿͆o̴̥͈̰͋̽͝͝h̷͎́̌n̵̟̯͒̎͝͝n̴̜̦̟͈͌̀͗y̷̰̅̄̈́͋?̶̪̆’ The thought consumes her, anything not to be trapped in nothingness again. Alone.

The air is on fire. Whether she’s speaking or thinking the words, V’s unsure. Is the digital ghost in her head with her? She’d do anything not to go back again.

46 6F 75 6E 64 20 79 61 2E 00 0R 1G 1N UN R34 CH 48 13 0523 Corruption, great. “This’ll be good.” C’mon, don’t got all night for this. You got this.

‘ Wakey, wakey, kid.’

It’s clearer, the mocking voice inside her head. It’s a comforting reassurance she’s not abandoned nonetheless. She senses trepidation, humour, snark and fear. Some her own, some not. It’s dark, but grey gives way to depth, metallic machines and stone.

"Yeah, it's me, in all my ‘pixelated’ glory." Get up, kid. Get up!

A chrome arm shifts in her vision, and Johnny’s seemingly tangible figure takes a knee before her. Most of her vision is made from stone tiles, he fills the rest.

V shifts, iconic gradient tint glasses in her field of vision too. She knows him. Except, he seems whole.She feels her heart race, and too many emotions to process. She looks at her hands as they buffer a response.

As she shifts, her vision slides into one still image. Her joints are stiff, and loose fabric shifts around her as she sluggishly tries to sit up. With each movement, light becomes sharper, the buzz of electricity fades away, and her grip on reality gains stronger. But so does her fatigue. What happened?

It’s dark still, but there’s a roof. The air is stale. The sapping jack of energy alone is enough to be concerning without considering their location. ‘Th̴̨̭͗̄̈́̕͘e h̶̯̊͗ell ̴̼̼̆are w̴̙̲̩̃͘e̸̛̦̎̀ J̴̧̖̻̟̎̃ͅoh̶̫̘͈̍̂̒͛́n̷̹̞͚̑̈́́̚͜ny̴̡͖͓̪̮͂?’ V asks aghast in astonishment. Even mentally, her voice is distorted, crackling. This isn’t right. What happened?

Johnny watches her eyes dilate, taking in their surroundings. He shrugs, backing up a bit, but barely more than a foot.

She can’t recall, but something tells the two of them haven’t been together for a while. Her gut feels rearranged, her instinct tells her one of them is supposed to be decommissioned for good. But he’s here… A hallucination in the midst of her disorientation. They’re both here… V can’t shake the feeling that something is missing.

“Welcome back, kid. You standin’? Or gonna take another nap on the floor again?”

She chews her lip, everything about the interaction sets of anxious alarm bells. She focuses on her breathing, shifting her legs in front of her. The actions feel inhuman, the organic movements slide stiffly into fluid motions. As the floor drops further and further away, she steadies herself on a support column. The room sways with metal and stone. The air is damp with mildew, sweat and dust but she’s not alone anymore.

V tries to regain her composure but she can’t place a thing in sight. Breathe. Where the hell is she… V rarely gets into trouble she can’t walk home from. She grew up in Heywood, why on Earth can’t she recognise a thing in sight?

‘Wᴾˡhͤ ͣeˢ ͤr ͭeͤˡˡa ͫrͤ eʸ ͦ ͧwᵏeⁿ ͦ?ʷ’ V dreads his answer if he can understand her. It’s like breathing underwater to exist, just below the surface. If Johnny knows and she doesn’t, then she’s completely reliant on him. Otherwise, they’re both screwed.

Back to the land of the living and close to communicating at last. Took V bloody long enough. “Keep standing for long enough, maybe you’ll find out.”

V leans a little straighter at the comment, taking in their surroundings. It’s a small enclosed space, low ceiling. Everything is made of stone except for rows of decrepit terminals and low bar lights. That explains the buzzing electricity.

The tech and machinery look ancient, slightly dusted but well maintained, lacking rust. It’s decades older than her, and possibly Johnny too. V can barely remember much else aside from her name. Johnny looks as alert as ever watching her closely. ‘Aͭrͪeͦˢwͤhaͣtͬ?ͤ’

‘CRT monitors. Old computer style,’ Johnny responds curly. Deft blue lights blink in and out, a vague light source in the room.

V takes unsteady inches towards them glad he understands her. It could be because they’re in each others heads but each movement and thought is like wading through broken glass. Her hand never leaves the wall for support. Her memory is a deconstructed semi-automatic with almost all the pieces missing, it leaves a profound sense of disorientation. She can barely remember her name, let alone how she had ended up in this ancient tomb.

‘Been helping you all goddamn month. ‘Bout time you stood up.’

V snorts, like Johnny would willingly ever help her without his self-interest. “Sˢuͧ’eͤ Jᴶoͦ’nⁿyʸ. W’ͩd ‘ͦoͧu ͩdͦo?” Fragmented letters stick out like a rookie in a firefight as macheted words come out. What did she do, swallow glass ?

Johnny takes a step back from his classic leaning post, ripping off his shades in a sudden movement. “You… Don't remember?” Shock rattles his features as he gawks at V.

If moving hurts, trying to recall is like sticking herself into a bidirectional cross-shredder for her brain: Physically infeasible but unimaginably painful.She’s screaming inside, pulling memories comes as easily as pulling out shrapnal with a pillow.

Can’t. V mentally pants with exhaustion. ‘ᶜaₙ’ᵗ… Caⁿ’ₜ ʳeₘeᵐbₑr…’ V collapses into a rickety chair, turning to face him. ‘ ‘Whʸ caⁿ’ₜ ᴵ ᵣeᵐeₘbᵉr? ᵂhat sₕoᵘld ᴵ- Wʰaₜ ʰaₚpᵉnₑd?’ ’ With glazed eyes, V turns to face the rockerboy, not seeing the enemy for who he is.

Hesitantly, Johnny breaks the silence after deciphering the kids words. “What do you remember?”

V scrapes her databases for her most recent memories. There’s Koch beneath her hands, Judy steadfastly waiting for her home… The deaths of Jackie and T-bug still remain scarred behind her retinas. Johnny being a prick but that’s exactly new either.

But… From there, time, memories… V isn’t sure if she’s missing some vital info. No, she remembers nothing but the void, ‘Nᵏoⁿthin’. Well obͦvͭiͪoͥuⁿsly oͭfͪrͤenda ‘n’ before. You. Lʸaͦsͧt gig wᵍaͥsᵍ… Kᴷnͦoͨwͪ.’ If Johnny had a seat, he’d be on the edge of it as he stills at her every word. ‘Kͤnᵍoͬwͣᵐ soͦmͫeͤtͭhͪiͥn’, dͩoͦntͭ you?’ It’s not meant to be accusatory, but apparently her jumbled words didn’t say that.

Johnny shifts, walking around to avoid V’s line of sight. Missing two months, maybe less. A few days before Hellman at least. “No,” He tells her resolutely. If she remembers nothing then… “Nothing happened. Should delta though, strayed long enough.”

V studies their environment, swirling nauseously on a swivel chair. Their surroundings are a perplexing mix lacking of any recognizable landmarks from down be;low. V couldn't shake the nagging question of how she had ended up here and why. ‘This place, tᵀeͪcͥhˢ… Nothing NᶜCͥ.ͭʸ ᵂSͤoͬmͤewhere else…’

Feeling less faint, V looks for potential supplies but the room’s so low-tech, it’s painful. Dusty, old-fashioned computer terminals clutter the dimly lit space. The air is thick with the scent of decades-old metal and electronics.

Her memory’s fractured but the importance of Johnny is strongly impressed upon her. Whenever she tries to draw recent memories up, they feel hefty. It’s an inhuman effort like pulling someone back from the brink of cyberpsychosis, in a sinkhole slowly, degrading her memories in her blind spot… Without knowing what she’s missed or why it matters. V can feel the missing pieces in her peripheral but they’re gone wherever she looks.

Johnny scours the bunker for anything he may have missed. The go-bag is packed, V’s increasingly lucid, they should be ready. Time’s running out, his actionstoday will no doubt draw even more attention than before. Hurriedly, he goes to pick up the bag, before swearing, realising things don’t move. V’s in ‘control’ again. His interactions with the world are merely background noise.

V shakily gets up to pick apart anything useful, turning her attention to the ancient electronic layout trying to switch on a terminal. ‘Tͨhͦiͫsᵖsͧtͭuͤfͬf iͩsͣ ͭbͣeͭyͤoͬnͫdͥⁿmͣe.’

Johnny finds his way over to see what she’s complaining about. “Tech… Beyond you ? How far advanced is it?”

‘Advᵃnceᵈ?’ V turns to Johnny, feeling slightly less drained with him near. ‘Shͪitͣ’sͬ aͩnͬcͥiͮenͤt . Lͨooͦksͬ liͧkeᵖ yͭour ͩeraᵃᵗ.’ V wonders if it’s possible for him to go blind. She says it as a joke until it begins to boot. The wait time isn’t funny anymore.

Johnny hesitates, questioning how much he should mention after V’s only just up again. ‘Nah, this is pre-Corpo Rule, but after Free State for sure.’

V tampers with the hulk of a screen but finds no interface port. After an excessive amount of exhaustive swearing and attempted hacking of the prehistoric terminal, V locates one thing of note: A redacted map of an island.

Johnny, peers over V's shoulder, and whistles appreciatively. "Looks like we've got ourselves a map. Too bad we can’t read Arabic for sh*t.” Maybe if he can get the words spoken aloud, V’s cyberware can translate for them.

The details are obscured, and what little information can be determined is removed. He can make out the rough contours of the landmass and several marked locations. The letters are in a neat-handwritten scrawl, scanned onto the device. However, with his military background and actual formal education, unlike V, he knows some geography.

He points to the side of the map where another land mass is briefly visible. “That’s Corto Maltese,” the information gives him a vague indication of the island. He’s surprised at the find, he hadn’t thought to check the terminals assuming they were broken.

Translation is usually her strong suit, cyberware automatically translates what’s spoken around her. But no cyberptics mean no to visual translations. f*ckin’ hell. Still, V’s not one to give up easily. Next, she checks the file name. ‘The fᶠuͧcͨkᵏ isˢ this? ’

[Lazarus Island]

Johnny considers any correlations. “Could be like the Lazarus Group?” V gives him a confused glance.

‘Just like me, isn't it? Sharing a cerebrum with Night City’s dumbest merc.’ He’d honestly give his right arm for some nicotine right now. ‘ Hurt to turn on the news every once in a while? God, V. MegaCorp private military contracting. Global ops… Not ringing any bells?’

V sighs, giving up on the topographic map. There’s no way to bring it with them anyway, not that topography is useful. ‘Whaͤteͬveͤr. Thiͣnkͬ tͤhat’s whͪeͤreͬᵉ we are?’

Damn him for not ripping the terminals to pieces before she woke up. ‘Dunno, but would you rather be a sitting target or a movin’ one? Let’s delta ‘n’ find out.’

V frowns, confused. ‘Cˡaͦnˢ'ͭt juͣsˡt leavⁿe likͫeͥ thiˢs. ͤHavenᵍ't ͬeven fiͣgͫured out wͣheˡre ͦwe are, or-.’ Johnny moves into a supply closet. ‘Wait- Johnny!’ She protests, waddling after him swiftly. Johnny shoves a backpack into her hand. V grunts at the force before peeking inside, there are a few supplies. How did Johnny manage all this? The tag reads:

[Project Peacekeeper]

He brushes her concerns with a metaphorical wave of his hand. "Details, V. None of that matters right now.”

Johnny's insistence on leaving makes her question just how they got here, it’s both bewildering and frustrating. ‘Why thᵍe ruͦshᵏ old manⁿ?’ Why are they leaving with so many questions left unanswered? ‘Yͫoͤuͫ'ͦrͬeʸ one of thˡeͦˢfͭew tͫhͥiˢnˢgͥsⁿᵍI canͤⁿreᵍmͬeͣmbͫerͧⁿfͥroͮmͤ ͬbefoˢrͤe now. Youͣˡkͦnⁿoͤw how we got hʷeͪrͤeͬᵉ?’

The place is so barren of tech that V can’t even see a basic terminal, not even an air-hypo or Biotechnica Supplement in sight. Certainly nothing to help with her vocal strain. She sighs, ‘Yͭoͥuͬ ͤgoͩt us here ‘ˡpͦaˢrentͭly, soͨ hͣeͬlpͤ geͩt us out .’ If he refuses, like he’s done in the past, who knows how long it might take to get out of the dank sub-basem*nt crater she thinks they’re in. She can barely walk.

"J’hnny," she calls out wearily.

Johnny appears beside her, making sure she has the backpack, his expression determined. "You gettin’ dumber? Lose all your brain cells this time ‘round? No time for questions, V. We've gotta get moving.” He pushes on a stone panel, gesturing for V to do the same. With strain on both their parts, the slab sides away and a tight stone stairwell makes itself known. Their body emerges from the decrepit basem*nt crypt. He confidently walks around the backstage room, ignoring V’s anxiety. It’s not just low-tech, but essentially off-grid with the computers downstairs being the exception.

V anxiously tails Johnny. ‘Looͩk, ͣyou ͬknow where youͭ’rͬe goͧinͭ’. But, if sʷometͬhing’s goͥinͤ’ on, sͩhͬoͤuld proͥbaͨbly cͩloͣse off ͭthe entrance fͣirst…’ Johnny nods in agreement as they conceal and fortify the opening to avoid any possible return of hostile forces. It’s exhaustive work, and V feels her will slipping.

There are huge threadbare curtains, and everything is coated in thick dust. V has never seen such strange decor. Tentatively with no small amount of disbelief, ‘We soͧmehow maͥnaͮgeͤd ͬto goˢ bͤack in tʷimͦe?ͬ Tˡheͩ place ͩloͥoksͫ riͤppⁿedˢ from a hͥisͦtoⁿry BD…’

Johnny lets out a hearty laugh, loud with amusem*nt. "Maybe you have one less screw loose after all. Not in Kansas anymore. C’mon."

Not entirely satisfied with the answer, V pushes past the soft velvet stage curtains, it's then that V notices the bodies. Piles of paramilitary combat bodies, mercs probably. Was this Johnny's work? If they’re not in NC anymore, that means… ‘You toᵇoͣkͩ over, didn’t you?’

Hell, did a lot more than that . He turns, not denying it. “I did what I had to.”

Had to? Her muscles freeze, eyes still suck on the sea of… Fresh corpses. Piles of mercenariesmost likely strewn across a theatre's stage in a haunting massacre of blood. ‘What’d ya ͧmean ‘hͤadᴴtͤoˡ’ˡ? Thͫoͣught I made itⁿcleᴿarͦ aͧfter Rᵍouͤge-’

“Don’t say her name, don’t even think about her!”

She’s taken aback at his tone, something’s wrong . “H’w long?” Silence.

‘ Johnny ?’ Voice tinged with concern, he doesn’t respond. “You ‘id ‘is?” Her mind flashes back to Johnny's memories, some easier to recall than her own. How Johnny Silverhand single-handedly led the Night City Holocaust, AKA the Arasaka Headquarters bombing disaster. The day a nuclear air blast obliterated Corpo Plaza and a large chunk of City Center using a tactical nuke not much larger than a suitcase bomb back in the twenty-twenties.

Finally, he responds, “f*ck it was. Easy f*ckers to zero too,” Johnny lies. Does help when you bring a gun to a swordfight - weren't going to leave him alone otherwise.

The implications are chilling, but it gives her more incentive to leave. ‘You kͩiͤllͣeͭdͪ theͣm? Fˢor meͣ?ˢAnd ͥthey sayⁿ cˡhiͤvaͣlrᵍy isͧ dead,’ V drawls sarcastically in her mind, eying the bodies warily despite her being mildly impressed. She’s the merc after all, not Johnny. But, she supposes, he’s more than a little trigger-happy.

V adjusts their backpack and sidesteps the bodies, twenty or so all in the same dark garb she’s wearing. They’re riddled with bullets and V can’t help but admire his efficient work, realising his haste did have some semblance of logic behind it. ‘Leavin’ in caseᵏ moͥreˡcoˡme ͤbaͬck. Got it.’

Johnny leads her to a ground-floor window that they seamlessly open and slide shut. He has no doubt they’ll double in number with the mess he made.

[Monarch Theatre]

She’s careful to avoid prints, not knowing what police jurisdiction she’s in. Each step is an effort as they stick to the shadows of another dilapidated neighbourhood. If it wasn’t for the lack of rain, lights or city chaos, she’d have thought herself home. Until her legs give out. Then, they move of their own accord by another's will.

f*ck, that took longer than he’d hoped. He scans the horizon, he needs a vantage point. There. A dilapidated building to hold up in, offering an advantageous discrete view of the theatre. He guides their shared body towards it. They slink along walls, accepted by the shadows.

V lays watching the building body inclined in a sniper’s prone position. As they settle in, eyes fix on the distance. V looks at her arm flickering between Chrome coating and RealSkinn. Both arms are cybernetic, only one is ‘real’ and tangible. Bone-deep weariness creeps in. Her head bows as she feels her consciousness slipping away as energy leaks from her pores.

Johnny senses V’s fading presence and tries to coax her into awareness, but exhaustion’s pull is strong. Laced with concern he nudges her psyche. "Come on V, stay with me. You can't afford to lose consciousness, not now."

They watch fruitlessly, for ten minutes, maybe an hour. The night shields their position from any newcomers, but Johnny doesn’t think he’s getting off the hook tonight. He needs to be sure.

As the most fronting of the two he keeps a vigilant watch. Then, slowly creeping into frame, a figure clad in a red mask emerges from the shadows near the theatre, the alley they emerged from. Armed and stealthy, Johnny knows they’ve been compromised.

If there’s one, more will follow. Johnny’s sure his pursuers also found a back entrance, likely to ambush this new player inside.

V slides next to Johnny’s subconsciousness, distracting him from his mission. Her voice, even mentally, is barely above a mumbled whisper. ‘I'm... so tired , J ohnny.’ Each word is a struggle to push out.

He tries to coax her back into lucid awareness, it should be an easier task by now. "Kid. I know, but we have to keep going. Can't rest now." Barely a sliver of consciousness remains as V begins to fade into a deep, sedated rest, but not yet beyond the reach of Johnny's mind.

There’s more than one person on Johnny’s sh*t-list but as he observes the man below conducting a perimeter sweep, he’s topped the list tonight. He’s armed, cautious and no doubt knows what he’s doing: No ordinary threat then.

His instincts spike on high alert, they’re probably being pursued, watched or both.

Johny’s a big believer in throwing caution to the wind, but not after he’s already lost everything: His morals and dignity and those closest to him; Alt… V… and even Rouge. Caution and readiness are critical, but losing their shadows is more so. He watched the man scope out the perimeter, armed with a gun and a high awareness of his surroundings.

‘Hold the fort down for a while, yeah? Just… A little while.’ V fades further, succumbing to the irresistible pull, a profound slumber, reabsorbed into hibernation.

Knowing the grim sight of the lifeless bodies left in the wake of his quick thinking, Johnny turns from the disappearing masked man. At least he can still sense V this time. Johnny remains silent and concealed, gripping a black bag with bloodied knuckles, once again alone in their shared mind space. Maybe it was too much too soon. Still, kids gotta learn, either that or burn out. The eerie silence cloaks the violence within.

Johnny holds in restraint as his heart lurches in surprise as a black-clad figure with a cape suddenly grapples onto the scene. The shape is vaguely familiar… Flittermouse? f*ck, not these c*nts again.

The dark costume makes them hard to discern. The built individual moves with determination, rushing into the theatre, the sound of doors slamming shut echoing in his wake.

He grabs the backpack, energised by the control. Clearly, flatlining a section of soldiers drew more attention here than he anticipated back home, especially so early in the morning. But interestingly, not yet the Police. He hightails it down a drainpipe, muscles too sore to jump and stairs too loud inside V’s body. He stills, she’s only briefly noticeable in his mind. He hopes she doesn’t go AWOL like last time.

Bronze sky splits turquoise to dusk. Guided by instinct, Johnny turns from the dimly lit streets towards the closest city. He needs to put distance between himself and the theatre. With self-preservation, Johnny moves to get as far away from Crime Alley as their legs can carry them.

Becoming Astray - Chapter 4 - Vverse (2024)

Chapter Text

０１０１０１１０Z̴̧̢̭̟̦͎̗͋ 3̴̩͋̑ R̴̬͚̠̱̊̾̒̎ Ø̴̢̹̮̥̗͕͒̓ D̶͈̋̀ͅ A̴̛̙̩͚͓̜̙͕͓̅̋̀̇͘ͅ Y̵̢̞͕̱̑̒͒ ０１０１０１１０

０１０１０１１０Z̴̧̢̭̟̦͎̗͋ 3̴̩͋̑ R̴̬͚̠̱̊̾̒̎ Ø̴̢̹̮̥̗͕͒̓ D̶͈̋̀ͅ A̴̛̙̩͚͓̜̙͕͓̅̋̀̇͘ͅ Y̵̢̞͕̱̑̒͒ ０１０１０１１０

０１０１０１１０Z̴̧̢̭̟̦͎̗͋ 3̴̩͋̑ R̴̬͚̠̱̊̾̒̎ Ø̴̢̹̮̥̗͕͒̓ D̶͈̋̀ͅ A̴̛̙̩͚͓̜̙͕͓̅̋̀̇͘ͅ Y̵̢̞͕̱̑̒͒ ０１０１０１１０

０１０１０１１０Z̴̧̢̭̟̦͎̗͋ 3̴̩͋̑ R̴̬͚̠̱̊̾̒̎ Ø̴̢̹̮̥̗͕͒̓ D̶͈̋̀ͅ A̴̛̙̩͚͓̜̙͕͓̅̋̀̇͘ͅ Y̵̢̞͕̱̑̒͒ ０１０１０１１０

０１０１０１１０Z̴̧̢̭̟̦͎̗͋ 3̴̩͋̑ R̴̬͚̠̱̊̾̒̎ Ø̴̢̹̮̥̗͕͒̓ D̶͈̋̀ͅ A̴̛̙̩͚͓̜̙͕͓̅̋̀̇͘ͅ Y̵̢̞͕̱̑̒͒ ０１０１０１１０

０１０１０１１０Z̴̧̢̭̟̦͎̗͋ 3̴̩͋̑ R̴̬͚̠̱̊̾̒̎ Ø̴̢̹̮̥̗͕͒̓ D̶͈̋̀ͅ A̴̛̙̩͚͓̜̙͕͓̅̋̀̇͘ͅ Y̵̢̞͕̱̑̒͒ ０１０１０１１０

References