Victor Von Doom
Date: 03/09/2076
Location: Night City, Pacifica
Something about this world often made my mind twist and turn; the harsh neon lights and their constant blaze are reminders of the world's state. There were once meadows of trees that flocked the world, not towers of galvanised steel. The harsh essence of soil took its place as if to mimic nature's silhouette. Roads mimicked rivers and the very essence of life was ripped into becoming today.
Yet, nature persisted regardless of human preservation the forces of life attempting to overcome the shallow existence of humanity's cold frame. The lies and deceit were all but concepts of war. A war on the soul, a fight for the spirit.
Staring at David's miniature adventure with the others I found his progress delightfully. He was finally making a name for himself albeit at his sanity. The moral ambiguity of his actions was a natural deterrence, it would serve to sharpen his mentality.
Battles were won through grit, wars were won through words. Perhaps in tales of old, the sword was mightier than the pen, but a pen was now capable of beginning wars and also ending them. It was due to words that the world was now in nuclear fallout and why men in power were able to enforce such greed and depravity.
Doom would make all men equal.
"Shh, I uh-."
"..."
Mentally removing the image of my protege and his joytoy I made my own progress through Pacifica. The Superstitious and mongrel-like rats had enjoyed Pacifica since my days of young yet regardless of their means, they were currently attempting to track my protege much to their displeasure.
My netrunner was ensuring that they remained incognito including his friends, there were numerous attempts at placing daemons within their software the police force likewise scheming. Netwatch was a hound that while protected by the black wall was doing nothing at all to remedy the horrific situation placed by Bartmoss.
The Old system was doomed to fall, and with numerous corporations scrambling about to fix or keep the dam running I would create my own. A far more reliable and reinforced net that would be capable of handling the strain of my newest projects.
Project Yahweh, a plan to create a new net that would crumble the other networks creating a new backdrop for a holy ground. Although this would require an overhaul in neutral countries as acquiring the necessary land and air space would be difficult, any attempts of such foreign networks would lead to a possible world war.
As night fell over Pacifica, I activated my cloaking device, rendering myself invisible to both the naked eye and most scanning technology. The dilapidated streets of the Voodoo Boys' territory stretched before me, a maze of broken dreams and hidden dangers.
My target: Placide, one of the Voodoo Boys' lieutenants. I had been tracking his movements for days, waiting for the right moment to make my move. Tonight, my patience would pay off.
I spotted Placide emerging from a run-down apartment building, his towering frame impossible to miss even in the dimly lit street. His cybernetic implants gleamed dully in the neon light, a testament to the Voodoo Boys' obsession with netrunning technology.
Silently, I began to follow him, my footsteps making no sound on the cracked pavement. Placide moved with purpose, his long strides eating up the ground as he made his way deeper into Voodoo territory.
After several minutes of winding through back alleys and abandoned lots, Placide arrived at what appeared to be an old shopping mall. The building was a shell of its former self, windows boarded up and walls covered in graffiti. But I knew appearances could be deceiving in Night City.
Placide entered the mall through a hidden side entrance. I waited a few seconds before following, careful not to disturb the makeshift alarm systems I'd detected. Inside, the mall was a hive of activity, belying its decrepit exterior.
I followed Placide through a maze of corridors, eventually arriving at a heavily fortified door. He entered a complex code, and the door slid open with a pneumatic hiss.
Beyond lay a vast chamber filled with state-of-the-art netrunning equipment. The contrast with the decaying mall was stark. This was clearly the heart of the Voodoo Boys' operation.
In the centre of the room sat a woman with milky white eyes - Brigitte, the true power behind the Voodoo Boys. Placide approached her, bowing his head in deference.
"Mama Brigitte," he said, his voice low. "I have news about the Black Wall."
Brigitte's unseeing eyes seemed to focus on Placide. When she spoke, her voice carried an otherworldly quality. "Speak, Placide. What have you learned?"
I edged closer, my cloaking device still active. This was the information I had been waiting for.
"Our sources in Arasaka say they're planning a major push," Placide reported. "They think they've found a weak point in the Wall's defences."
Brigitte's expression remained impassive, but I detected a slight tensing of her shoulders. "And the AI beyond the Wall? Any word on Alt Cunningham?"
Placide shook his head. "Nothing concrete. But there are whispers... some say she's gathering power, preparing for something big."
"We cannot allow Arasaka to breach the Wall before we do," Brigitte said, her voice hard. "Intensify our efforts. I want every netrunner we have working on this."
As they continued their discussion, I took the opportunity to survey the room. In the corners, I spotted teams of netrunners, their minds deep in cyberspace as they probed the Black Wall's defences.
Carefully, I moved among them, planting microscopic bugs on their equipment. These would allow me to monitor their progress and intercept any breakthroughs they might make.
As I finished my covert operation, Brigitte's voice cut through the room. "There's something else... a disturbance in the net. A presence I haven't felt before."
I froze, wondering if somehow, despite all my precautions, she had sensed my intrusion.
"What kind of presence?" Placide asked, his hand moving to the weapon at his hip.
Brigitte's milky eyes seemed to scan the room. For a moment I hesitated, would it be worth exposing my position? But then she shook her head.
"It's gone now," she said. "But be on alert. Something is coming. Something that could change everything."
I'd heard enough. As Placide began issuing orders to tighten security, I made my way out of the chamber, retracing my steps through the underground network. While KIlling them would be the most efficient action, it wouldn't solve the long-term issues seen with their partnership with the rogue AI.
The Voodoo boys were but one part of the rogue AI's plans and Jefferson's mind being compromised validated these concerns. How far were these rogue demons hiding and how far was their influence?
Pulling the plug here would net a quick stop to the issue, but similar to pouring water out from a sinking ship, it'd only be saved by patching the hole or turning off the source.
Once outside, I allowed myself a small smile of satisfaction. The Voodoo Boys were indeed close to breaching the Black Wall, just as I had suspected. But they had no idea that their every move was now being monitored by Doom.
Their ambition would serve my purposes well. Let them focus on the Black Wall. When the time was right, I would make my move, and Night City would never be the same.
As I melted into the shadows of Pacifica, my mind was already racing with plans. The game was becoming more complex, the stakes higher. But as always, Doom was several steps ahead.
As I made my way through the district of Pacifica, my enhanced senses picked up the telltale signs of trouble brewing.
The Animals. A gang of chrome-pumped bruisers with more synthetic muscle than sense. Their reputation for extreme body modification and physical prowess preceded them. I had hoped to avoid such a pedestrian confrontation, but it seemed fate had other plans. Or perhaps, this was simply another opportunity to further my cause.
I heard them before I saw them - the heavy thud of augmented footsteps, the low growl of voices enhanced by vocal modulators. They thought they were being stealthy. How quaint.
"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" A gravelly voice called out from the shadows. "Looks like we've got ourselves a lost tourist."
I turned slowly, my armour gleaming under the harsh street lights. Five of them emerged from various hiding spots, their massive frames bulging with synthetic muscle and crude cybernetic enhancements. Their leader, a mountain of a woman with a mohawk and glowing red eyes, stepped forward.
"You've wandered into the wrong neighbourhood, chrome-dome," she sneered, flexing her augmented arms. "But don't worry, we'll be happy to... escort you out. For a price, of course."
I regarded them coolly, my mind already calculating a dozen different ways this encounter could unfold. These were but insects compared to the power of Doom, even with their vaunted augmentations.
"I assure you," I replied, my voice resonating with authority, "I am precisely where I intend to be. The question is, are you?"
The leader's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means, you simpleton, that you stand at a crossroads. One path leads to your continued existence as mere street thugs, scrabbling for scraps in the gutters of this dying city. The other..." I paused for effect, "The other leads to true power. Power beyond your limited imaginations."
A ripple of unease passed through the group. Good. Uncertainty was the first step towards manipulation.
The leader, however, wasn't so easily swayed. She spat on the ground. "Save your fancy words, tin man. We're the Animals. We take what we want, and right now, we want whatever you've got in that fancy suit of yours."
I sighed inwardly. It was always the same with these types. Too shortsighted to see the bigger picture.
"Very well," I said, my tone dripping with disdain. "If it's a demonstration you require, then allow me to oblige."
The leader grinned, her augmented muscles tensing. "Boys, let's show this chump what real strength looks like."
Two of the largest Animals charged at me, their cybernetically enhanced bodies moving with surprising speed. I stood my ground, waiting until the last moment before acting.
As the first one reached me, his massive fist aimed at my head, I simply raised my hand and caught it. The impact would have shattered the bones of a normal man, but to me, it was nothing more than a gentle tap.
The Animal's eyes widened in shock as he realized his enhanced strength was useless against me. Before he could react, I squeezed, the metal of his cybernetic hand crumpling like paper in my grip.
The second Animal, seeing his comrade's failure, tried to tackle me from the side. I didn't even bother to dodge. As he slammed into me, it was like hitting a wall of solid steel. He bounced off, stumbling backward in confusion.
"Impossible," the leader muttered, her confidence wavering for the first time.
I turned to face her, still holding the first Animal's crushed hand. With a casual flick of my wrist, I tossed him aside. He flew through the air, crashing into a nearby dumpster with enough force to dent the metal.
"You speak of strength," I said, my voice calm and measured. "But you know nothing of true power. Your augmentations, your synthetic muscles - they are but pale imitations of real strength."
To demonstrate my point, I walked over to a nearby streetlight. With one hand, I gripped the metal pole and effortlessly bent it, twisting the steel as if it were made of rubber.
The remaining Animals stared in shock, their earlier bravado replaced by fear.
"This," I continued, "is but a fraction of what I'm capable of. I can bench press ten tons without breaking a sweat. Your vaunted strength is nothing compared to mine."
The leader, to her credit, didn't run. She stood her ground, though I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. "Who... what are you?"
"I am Doom," I replied simply. "And I offer you a choice. Join me, pledge your loyalty to my cause, and I will grant you power beyond your wildest dreams. Refuse, and..." I gestured to their fallen comrades, "Well, I believe the consequences are rather self-evident."
She seemed to consider this for a moment. I could see the conflict in her eyes - the animal instinct to fight warring with the dawning realization of just how outmatched they were.
"What kind of power are we talking about here?" she asked cautiously.
I allowed myself a small smile beneath my mask. The hook was set. Now to reel them in.
"The power to reshape this city," I said, my voice low and compelling. "To rise above the petty squabbles of street gangs and take your place among the true rulers of Night City. I offer you not just enhanced strength or faster reflexes, but the chance to be part of something greater than yourselves."
I paused, letting my words sink in. The other Animals were listening now too, their earlier hostility replaced by a mixture of fear and curiosity.
"Imagine," I continued, "a world where the strong truly do rule. Where your strength isn't wasted on meaningless turf wars, but is instead directed towards a higher purpose. I can give you that world."
The leader's eyes narrowed. "And what's in it for you? Why offer us this... opportunity?"
A fair question. These street thugs might be simple, but they weren't entirely stupid.
"Because every king needs his knights," I replied. "I have plans for this city, plans that will require loyal soldiers. Soldiers who aren't afraid to get their hands dirty. In exchange for your service, I offer you protection, resources, and power the likes of which you've never seen."
I could see the greed in their eyes now, the hunger for something more than their current meager existence. But the leader still hesitated.
"How do we know you can deliver on these promises?" she asked. "For all we know, you're just another corpo spy looking to take us out."
I laughed then, a sound that echoed ominously through the deserted street. "If I were here to 'take you out,' as you so crudely put it, you would already be dead. No, what I offer is genuine. But perhaps another demonstration is in order."
With a thought, I activated one of my more impressive augmentations. The air around me shimmered and distorted as a holographic display sprang to life. It showed Night City from above, a three-dimensional map of power and influence.
"Behold," I said, gesturing to the display. "The true face of Night City. Every gang territory, every corporate stronghold, every secret passage and hidden bunker. Knowledge is power, and I possess knowledge that would make the mightiest corporations tremble."
The Animals stared in awe at the display, their eyes wide as they recognized familiar landmarks and discovered hidden truths about their city.
"This," I continued, "is but a fraction of what I offer. Pledge yourselves to me, and all of this will be at your fingertips. Refuse, and you'll spend the rest of your lives wondering what might have been."
The leader stepped forward, her earlier bravado replaced by a mix of respect and fear. "And if we accept... what exactly would you have us do?"
I smiled beneath my mask. They were mine now, whether they realized it or not.
"For now, you'll continue to operate as you have been," I explained. "But you'll report to me. Any interesting information, any unusual activity in your territory, I want to know about it. And when the time comes, when I call upon you to act, you will do so without question. In return, I'll provide you with technology and resources beyond your wildest dreams."
The leader looked back at her remaining gang members. Some nodded eagerly, while others still looked uncertain.
"And those who don't want to join?" she asked, a hint of challenge in her voice.
I regarded her coldly. "As I said, this is a choice. Those who do not wish to be part of humanity's glorious future are free to leave. However..." I let the threat hang in the air, unspoken but clearly understood.
The leader nodded slowly, then turned to address her gang. "You heard the man. This is our chance to be something more than just another street gang. I'm in. Who's with me?"
Most of the Animals voiced their agreement immediately. A few, however, remained silent, defiance in their eyes.
One of them, a hulking brute with more chrome than flesh, stepped forward. "This is bullshit," he growled. "We're the Animals. We don't bow to anyone, especially not some tin-can dictator with delusions of grandeur."
I sighed inwardly. There were always a few who couldn't see the bigger picture.
"Very well," I said, my voice cold as ice. "You've made your choice."
Before anyone could react, I moved with inhuman speed. In the blink of an eye, I was in front of the defiant Animal. He barely had time to register my presence before I placed my hand on his chest.
With a simple flex of my muscles, I sent him flying backward. He crashed through the wall of a nearby building, leaving a Animal-shaped hole in the concrete.
The others stared in shock, the reality of their situation finally sinking in.
"Let that be a lesson," I said, addressing the remaining Animals. "I offer you a chance at greatness, but make no mistake - I do not tolerate disloyalty or insubordination. You're either with me entirely, or you're against me. There is no middle ground."
The leader, to her credit, recovered quickly. She turned to her gang, her voice firm. "You heard him. This is our future. Anyone who's not on board, speak now or forever hold your peace."
Silence fell over the group. No one dared to voice any further objections.
"Excellent," I said, allowing a note of satisfaction to creep into my voice. "Now, let us discuss the details of our arrangement."
As I began outlining my plans to the Animals, I couldn't help but reflect on the ease with which I had bent them to my will. These street thugs, for all their posturing and enhanced strength, were but pawns in the grand game I was playing. They thought I was offering them power, but in reality, I was merely adding another piece to my chessboard.
The true challenge, of course, lay ahead. The corporations that ruled Night City wouldn't fall as easily as this street gang. They had resources, influence, and a ruthlessness that matched my own. But they also had weaknesses - their greed, their short-sightedness, their constant infighting - Weaknesses that I would exploit to their fullest.
As I spoke, I was already calculating my next moves. The Animals would be useful, yes, but they were just one small part of my grand design. I needed to accelerate my plans, to push forward before the likes of Arasaka or Militech caught wind of what I was doing.
Project Yahweh needed to be brought online sooner rather than later. The new net I was creating would be the key to it all, the foundation upon which I would build my new world order. But to do that, I needed more than just muscle. I needed minds - brilliant, innovative minds that could help me reshape the very fabric of cyberspace.
As I finished giving instructions to my new recruits, I felt a surge of anticipation. The pieces were falling into place, slowly but surely. Night City, with all its neon-drenched corruption and chrome-plated depravity, was ripe for the taking. And I, Victor Von Doom, would be the one to claim it.
The Animals dispersed, eager to begin their new roles as my eyes and ears in the city's underbelly. As they left, the leader lingered behind.
"One more thing," she said, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "What do we call you? I mean, 'Doom' is impressive and all, but..."
I considered this for a moment. These simple thugs couldn't begin to comprehend the true scope of who I was or what I represented. But perhaps a title would serve to reinforce their loyalty.
"You may address me as 'Lord Doom,'" I said finally. "For I am the lord of the future that is to come."
The leader nodded, a mixture of fear and respect in her eyes. "Yes, Lord Doom. We won't let you down."
As she hurried away to join her comrades, I allowed myself a moment of quiet satisfaction. Another piece had been added to the board, another step taken towards my ultimate goal.
Night City thought it knew power. It thought it understood ambition. But it had never encountered anything like Doom before. And by the time it realized what was happening, it would already be too late.
The game was progressing nicely. And as always, Doom played to win.
- Third person -
The neon-drenched sprawl of Night City faded behind Doom as he made his way to the outskirts of Watson district. Here, the relentless pulse of the city gave way to a more subdued rhythm, the border between urban chaos and the vast, unforgiving Badlands beyond.
Doom found himself seeking solitude, a rare moment of quiet reflection amidst his grand machinations. The weight of his ambitions, the immense scope of Project Yahweh, and the constant maneuvering required to stay steps ahead of Night City's power players - it all bore down on him, demanding a brief respite.
As he stood at the edge of the city, his gaze sweeping over the distant, dust-swept horizon, a flicker of movement caught his eye. One of the massive billboard screens that dotted even this far-flung corner of Night City had come to life, cycling through its programmed sequence of advertisements.
And there, larger than life on the glowing display, was a face that sent a jolt through Doom's normally unshakeable composure.
Panam.
Time seemed to slow as Doom took in every detail of her image. The years had changed her, as they had changed him. The soft features of the girl he'd known had sharpened, honed by the harsh realities of life in the Badlands. Her eyes, once wide with youthful dreams, now held a determined fire that spoke of battles fought and hardships endured.
But beneath the changes, Doom could still see traces of the Panam he'd known. The Panam he'd loved. The Panam he'd left behind when he faked his own death, sacrificing their future together for the greater purpose that drove him.
Memories long suppressed came flooding back, but Doom pushed them aside, his mind already racing with the implications of her presence in Night City. He didn't need a news bulletin to tell him why she was here. His vast network of information, culled from hacked Afterlife files and the constant stream of data from his doombots dispersed throughout the city, had already painted a clear picture.
Panam was searching for V - Vincent Aledecaldo. The name had crossed Doom's radar before, a potential piece in the grand chess game he was playing. V had left the Aldecaldo clan months ago, reportedly due to conflicts with their leader. And now Panam was here, presumably to bring him back into the fold.
Doom's mind, ever sharp, quickly pieced together the implications. This unexpected connection to his past presented both risk and opportunity. His plans for Night City were delicate, precisely calibrated. The introduction of Panam and the Aldecaldos into the equation could upset the balance he'd so carefully cultivated.
And yet...
A part of Doom, a part he thought long dead, yearned to see Panam face-to-face. To hear her voice, to explain, to...
He cut off that line of thinking ruthlessly. There was no room for such sentimentality in his grand design. The world he envisioned had no place for the weaknesses of the heart.
Still, Doom found himself moving back towards the city, his feet carrying him almost of their own accord. His mind raced, calculating possibilities and potential outcomes. If Panam was searching for V, their paths might cross with his own carefully laid plans. He needed to understand the situation more deeply, to gather more specific information.
As he walked, Doom's resolve hardened once more. He would observe, gather intelligence, and adjust his strategies accordingly. His network of doombots, disguised as ordinary civilians, would be his eyes and ears, tracking Panam's movements without risk of detection.
If Panam's presence in Night City threatened his objectives, he would deal with it as he had dealt with every other obstacle in his path. And if a small part of him hoped for a glimpse of her, a chance to see with his own eyes the woman she'd become... well, that was a weakness he would allow himself, just this once.
Night City loomed before him, a labyrinth of steel and shadow where destinies intertwined and futures were forged. Somewhere in its neon-lit depths, Panam searched for her lost clan member, unaware that the boy she'd once loved watched from the shadows, now transformed into something far greater and more terrible than she could imagine.
Doom moved through the city like a ghost, his keen senses alert for any sign of Panam or V, supplemented by the constant stream of data from his doombot network. The game had grown more complex, the stakes higher than ever. But as always, Doom played to win, no matter the cost.
The night was young, and Night City's secrets were his to unravel.
As Doom contemplated his next move, across the city, Panam Palmer stood atop a derelict building, her eyes scanning the neon-lit skyline of Night City. The wind whipped through her hair, carrying with it the acrid scent of smog and broken dreams that always seemed to hang over the metropolis.
Her gaze swept over the towering skyscrapers and glowing billboards, but Panam wasn't really seeing the city as it was now. In her mind's eye, she saw it as it had been years ago, when a young corpo boy with dreams too big for his tailored suit had stumbled into her life.
A wave of nostalgia, tinged with a deep, aching sadness, washed over her. Every blinking light, every honking horn from the streets below seemed to whisper his name.
Doom.
She remembered the night they first met, right here in Night City. He had been different then - Victor, the brilliant young executive, heir to a rising corporation. But fate had other plans. In a single night of corporate warfare, Militech and Arasaka had destroyed everything he knew, leaving him orphaned and alone in the unforgiving streets of Night City.
Panam closed her eyes, the memory as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. She could still see the lost look in his eyes when the Aldecaldos found him, could still feel the trembling of his hand as she led him away from the smoldering ruins of his old life.
Those early days with the clan had been tough for him, but Panam had been there every step of the way. She'd taught him how to survive in the Badlands, how to find freedom in the endless expanse of the desert. And somewhere along the way, amidst the hardships and the laughter, they'd fallen in love.
Opening her eyes, Panam let out a shaky breath. The city before her blurred as unshed tears stung her eyes. It had been years since Doom's supposed death, years since she'd allowed herself to dwell on these memories. But being back in Night City, the place where it all began, had brought it all rushing back.
"Where are you now, Victor?" she whispered to the uncaring city below. "Did you really die that day, or are you out there somewhere, looking up at these same lights?"
Panam shook her head, forcing herself back to the present. She was here for a reason - to find V, to bring him back to the Aldecaldos. She couldn't afford to get lost in the past, no matter how much it hurt.
But as she turned away from the cityscape, ready to continue her search, Panam couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to change. Night City had taken so much from her, and had shaped her in ways she was still discovering. Now, as she walked its streets once more, she couldn't help but wonder what other surprises it might have in store.
Little did she know, the boy she mourned watched from afar, transformed into a man with ambitions that would shake the very foundations of the city that had forged them both.
---
Vincent "V" Aldecaldo
Date: 03/09/2076
Location: Night City, Lizzie's Bar
The neon-drenched streets of Night City pulsed with their usual frenetic energy as V made his way towards the familiar silhouette of Lizzie's Bar. The Moxes' establishment had been a constant in the ever-changing landscape of the city, a bastion of relative safety in a world that offered precious little. But as V approached, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was... off.
The exterior looked much the same – the garish pink neon sign still blazed against the night sky, and the steady thrum of bass still vibrated through the pavement. But there was a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a tension in the air that V couldn't quite place.
As he pushed through the doors, the familiar scent of synthetic alcohol and cheap perfume washed over him. But beneath it, there was something else. Something sharper, more clinical. V's enhanced senses, honed by years of life on the edge, picked up on it immediately.
The interior of Lizzie's had undergone a transformation. Gone were the haphazard decorations and graffitied walls that had given the place its charm. In their place was a sleek, almost sterile aesthetic. The bar gleamed with polished chrome, and the booths were upholstered in a material that looked expensive enough to make V whistle low under his breath.
"Well, well," he muttered to himself, "looks like the Moxes have come up in the world."
As V made his way to the bar, he couldn't help but notice the changes in the clientele as well. The usual mix of edgerunners, joytoys, and local muscle was still present, but there was a new element. Suits. Corporate types who looked like they'd be more at home in a Westbrook high-rise than a Watson dive bar.
V's hand instinctively moved to the pistol at his hip, a habit born of years of survival in Night City's unforgiving streets. Something was definitely not right here.
"What can I get you, handsome?" a sultry voice pulled V from his thoughts.
He turned to find a striking woman behind the bar, her arms covered in intricate chrome implants that caught the light as she moved. Her eyes, a vivid shade of neon blue that had to be artificial, regarded V with a mixture of curiosity and caution.
V flashed his most charming smile. "Whiskey. Neat. And maybe a little information to go with it, if you're selling."
The bartender's laugh was like tinkling glass. "Honey, everything's for sale in Night City. You just gotta know the right price." She poured his drink with a fluid grace that spoke of expensive cyberware. "What kind of info you looking for?"
V took a sip of his whiskey, savouring the burn. It was good stuff, way better than the synthetic swill Lizzie's used to serve. Another sign that things have changed. "Let's start with the obvious. Place looks... different. New management?"
The bartender's smile never wavered, but V caught a flicker of something in her eyes. Wariness, maybe. Or fear. "You could say that. The Moxes got themselves a new patron. Someone with deep pockets and big plans."
"Is that right?" V leaned in, his voice low. "And does this mysterious benefactor have a name?"
The woman's chrome-plated fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the glass she was polishing. "Names are dangerous things in Night City, sugar. Especially that one. Trust me, you don't want to go digging too deep."
V was about to press further when movement at the other end of the bar caught his eye. A woman with vibrantly coloured hair – green fading to pink at the tips – had emerged from a back room.
Even from a distance, V could tell she was different from the other staff. There was a confidence in her movements, a spark of defiance in her eyes that spoke of someone who hadn't been broken by Night City's relentless grind.
"Who's that?" V asked, nodding in the woman's direction.
The bartender followed his gaze and chuckled. "That's Judy. Our resident tech wizard. Word of advice? Don't waste your time. She's not interested in what you're selling."
V raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you think I'm selling?"
"Please," the bartender rolled her eyes. "I've been working these bars long enough to know that look. You've got 'lone wolf looking for a good time' written all over you. Judy's not into that scene. She's... complicated."
V's interest was piqued. Complicated was his middle name. He drained his whiskey and flashed the bartender another smile. "Well, now I'm definitely intrigued. Thanks for the drink, sweetheart. I think I'll go introduce myself."
As V made his way towards Judy, he couldn't help but notice the way the other patrons seemed to give her a wide berth. There was respect there, sure, but also a hint of fear. Interesting.
"Evening," V said as he approached, leaning casually against the bar. "I hear you're the one to talk to if a guy's looking for some high-end tech."
Judy looked up from the datapad she'd been studying, her eyes – a striking shade of brown flecked with gold – giving V a once-over that felt more like a full-body scan. Her lips quirked in a half-smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"And where'd you hear that?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of an accent V couldn't quite place.
V shrugged, trying to maintain his air of nonchalance. "Word gets around. I'm new in town, looking to upgrade some of my hardware. Thought I'd start at the top."
Judy's laugh was sharp, almost bitter. "Flattery might work on the dolls, but I'm not buying what you're selling, choom. If you're really looking for tech, try the market in Kabuki. Otherwise, the bar's that way." She jerked her thumb over her shoulder.
V felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. He wasn't used to being dismissed so casually. But there was something about Judy that intrigued him, made him want to push further.
"Alright, you got me," he admitted, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm not just here for the tech. Truth is, I'm curious about what's going on here. Lizzie's isn't exactly what I remember."
Judy's eyes narrowed, a flicker of something – fear? anger? – passing across her face. "Yeah? And what exactly do you remember?"
V leaned in, lowering his voice. "I remember a place that stood for something. A safe haven for those who needed it. Now it looks like just another corpo playground. What happened, Judy? Who's really running things here?"
For a moment, V thought he'd pushed too far. Judy's hand moved towards something under the bar – a weapon, most likely – and the air between them crackled with tension.
But then, just as quickly, Judy's posture relaxed. She let out a long breath, her eyes darting around the room before settling back on V. "You ask a lot of questions for someone who claims to be new in town."
V shrugged. "Curiosity's kept me alive this long."
Judy seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding towards a quiet corner of the bar. "Alright, Mr. Curious. You want answers? Let's talk. But not here."
As they made their way to a secluded booth, V couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. The corporate types at the bar seemed to be paying them a bit too much attention, their eyes following Judy with a mixture of fear and reverence.
Once they were seated, Judy leaned across the table, her voice barely above a whisper. "Alright, let's get one thing straight. I don't know you, and I sure as hell don't trust you. But you're asking questions that need answering, and maybe... maybe it's time someone did something about it."
V nodded, his curiosity piqued. "I'm all ears."
Judy's eyes darted around the room once more before she continued. "The changes you see? They're just the surface. There's something bigger going on here, something that goes way beyond the Moxes or even Night City itself."
"What do you mean?" V pressed.
Judy's laugh was humorless. "Let's just say there's a new player in town. Someone with deep pockets and even deeper reach. And they've got their fingers in every pie in this city. Including this place."
V's mind raced, trying to connect the dots. "But why Lizzie's? Why the Moxes?"
"Think about it," Judy said, her voice tinged with bitterness. "A network of information brokers, sex workers, and fixers, all with their ears to the ground and access to the city's most powerful people at their most vulnerable. It's a goldmine of intel and influence."
V had to admit, it made a twisted kind of sense. "And the Moxes just... went along with this?"
Judy's eyes flashed with anger. "You think we had a choice? This new management doesn't ask. They take. And they've got the muscle to back it up. Most of the girls here don't even know who's really calling the shots. They think it's just new ownership, better pay, fancier digs. But some of us... some of us know there's more to it."
V leaned back, his mind reeling from the implications. "So what now? You're just going to keep working for them?"
Judy's laugh was sharp, almost manic. "What choice do I have? You don't just walk away from people like this. But maybe... maybe with the right help..."
She trailed off, her eyes studying V intently. He could practically see the gears turning in her head, weighing the risks against the potential rewards.
Before V could respond, a commotion at the bar drew their attention. One of the corporate types – a man in an expensive suit with more chrome than flesh – was getting handsy with one of the Moxes. The girl, barely out of her teens, looked terrified.
V was on his feet in an instant, his hand moving to his weapon. But Judy was faster. She vaulted over the table with a grace that spoke of high-end reflex boosters and was across the room in a heartbeat.
"Hey!" she shouted, her voice carrying an authority that seemed at odds with her slight frame. "Hands off, asshole. That's not what you're paying for."
The corpo turned, his augmented eyes focusing on Judy with predatory intensity. "Stay out of this, bitch. This is between me and the merchandise."
V tensed, ready to intervene. But Judy didn't back down. If anything, she seemed to grow taller, her presence filling the room.
"Last warning," she said, her voice cold as ice. "Walk away now, or things are going to get real unpleasant for you."
The corpo laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Do you have any idea who I am? I could buy and sell this whole fucking place. You're nothing but a—"
His words were cut off as Judy's fist connected with his jaw. It was a perfect strike, augmented by what had to be top-of-the-line cyberware. The corpo went down hard, blood spraying from his shattered mouth.
For a moment, the entire bar fell silent. Then, chaos erupted.
The corpo's friends surged forward, chrome glinting as they reached for concealed weapons. But the Moxes were ready. In an instant, the bar transformed into a battlefield.
V found himself back-to-back with Judy, fists and bullets flying around them. She moved like a dancer, each strike precise and devastating. V matched her rhythm, his own combat implants kicking into high gear.
"Some night out!" V shouted over the din of the fight, a grin spreading across his face despite the danger.
Judy's laugh was wild, exhilarated. "Welcome to the real Night City, choomba!"
As they fought, V couldn't help but feel a sense of... rightness. This was what Lizzie's was supposed to be. Not some sanitized corpo playground, but a place where the outcasts and misfits of Night City could stand their ground.
The fight was over almost as quickly as it had begun. The corpo and his friends lay groaning on the floor, their expensive suits stained with blood and spilled drinks. The Moxes stood victorious, a fierce pride shining in their eyes.
As the adrenaline began to fade, V became aware of the other patrons – the ones who hadn't joined in the fight. They were watching Judy with a mixture of fear and awe. And suddenly, V understood.
Judy wasn't just some tech working for the bar. She was their protector, their champion against the darker forces that sought to control them. Including, perhaps, this mysterious Doom.
As if reading his thoughts, Judy turned to V, her eyes blazing with a fire that made his breath catch in his throat. "So," she said, a hint of challenge in her voice. "Still interested in those upgrades?"
V couldn't help but laugh. "Lady, I think I'm interested in a whole lot more than that now."
Judy's smile was fierce, predatory. "Good. Because I think you and I have a lot to talk about. Starting with how we're going to take back what's ours."
"Ours?" A figure voice appears from the bar's door, the numerous Mox members aiming towards the figure only to drop their weapons down in fear.
"Uh, sir-."
"Listen well, mongrel. Don't attempt to covet what is not yours. I was kind in allowing such voices of treachery but should you act on them I will have no care in wiping the board clean of your failures." The man voiced, a pistol in his hand as he stared at Judy.
"Listen to here you fucker-." V spat only to have his body constricted.
"You won't speak in my presence, without permission." The being spoke, before staring at the people once more.
"Continue your operations or else." The being spoke before holding the pistol against its head and shooting.
The deafening silence and corpses on the ground a reminder of the man's prowess.