Starr revved the engine of the bike, feeling the low hum of power vibrating through her legs. Doc hadn't been lying—the bike wasn't much. A modded-out Arch Nazaré from a few decades ago, it looked rough around the edges, dented and scarred, but the engine growled with promise. The rain slicked the streets of Night City, making the neon reflections shimmer like oil across the dark asphalt. The city loomed above her, a mechanical beast with its towering structures and flickering advertisements, always watching, always listening.
But tonight, she would leave the city behind.
The coordinates Chimera had sent pointed to a remote spot outside of the city limits, near the Old Corpo Highway, a place where the boundaries between the corporate elite and the wastelands blurred. No one went out there unless they had a reason—either to hide or to hunt. It was an unspoken rule in Night City: if you were heading that way, you weren't coming back the same.
Starr pulled her helmet on and kicked the bike into gear. The engine roared to life, the tires skidding slightly on the wet pavement as she tore out of the alley. She weaved through traffic with ease, the rhythm of the city fading as she sped toward the outer districts. The lights of Watson blurred into streaks of color, fading into the background as she crossed into Heywood, then further toward the industrial outskirts of the Badlands.
The rain was coming down harder now, the cold droplets biting at her exposed skin. But Starr didn't care. Her mind was focused on what lay ahead. The target, the mission, and Chimera. Why had Chimera singled her out for this? Why her, when so many other mercs and solos roamed the streets of Night City? Starr had a reputation, sure, but this? This was something else.
Her HUD blinked to life, flashing a reminder as she closed in on the rendezvous point. She still had time to prepare, but not much. A few hours at best. She pushed the thoughts of doubt from her mind, focusing on the mission ahead. If Chimera wanted her at midnight, she'd be there. Whatever was waiting for her on the other side of that meeting would have to wait.
The highway stretched out before her like a dead artery, leading into the heart of the Badlands. The towering megastructures of Night City were mere specks on the horizon now, and all that remained was the barren expanse of cracked asphalt and endless dust. The old Corpo Highway was a relic from a time when corporations had thought they could extend their control into the lawless wastelands. It had long since fallen into disrepair, overtaken by nomad clans and scavengers who picked apart whatever was left of corporate civilization.
Starr pulled off the road, following the coordinates until she reached an abandoned refuelling station. The building was little more than a husk now, its windows broken, the pumps long since scavenged for parts. The rain had turned the ground to mud, the bike's tires sinking slightly as she slowed to a stop. She killed the engine, the sudden silence jarring after the constant roar of the ride.
She dismounted, her boots squelching in the wet earth as she scanned the area. It was eerily quiet, the only sounds coming from the soft patter of rain and the occasional distant rumble of thunder. Starr's cybernetic eyes flickered, scanning the horizon for movement. Nothing.
"Where the hell are you, Chimera?" Starr muttered under her breath, feeling the weight of her weapons strapped to her body. She had brought her new blades, along with a Malorian Arms Overture—a heavy-caliber revolver that packed enough punch to stop a cyberpsychotic. If this was a setup, she wasn't going down without a fight.
Minutes passed. The rain picked up, turning into a steady downpour that soaked through her jacket. Starr's patience was wearing thin. She paced back and forth, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her blade. The longer she waited, the more convinced she became that this was some kind of test. Chimera was known for mind games, always pushing her operatives to their limits before revealing her true intentions.
And just as Starr was about to mount her bike again, a flicker of movement caught her eye.
Out of the darkness, a sleek, black Rayfield Caliburn emerged from the misty rain, its engine silent as it glided across the cracked highway toward her. The car's matte finish absorbed the dim light, making it look like a shadow come to life. Starr watched as it slowed to a stop a few meters away, the doors hissing open with a soft click.
A figure stepped out—a woman, tall and graceful, her silhouette framed by the rain. She wore a long, dark coat that flowed behind her like a cape, and her eyes glinted with the same eerie luminescence Starr had seen in her dreams. Her face was obscured by the shadows, but Starr knew without a doubt who this was.
Chimera.
"You're late," Starr said, her voice cutting through the rain as the woman approached.
Chimera smiled, the curve of her lips barely visible in the darkness. "You always were impatient, Layne. It's a flaw."
Starr narrowed her eyes, her hand still hovering near her weapon. "What's this about? You don't pull someone out of Night City for a casual chat."
Chimera stepped closer, her boots leaving barely a trace in the mud. Up close, Starr could see the intricate designs etched into her skin—bioluminescent tattoos that pulsed faintly with each step, their patterns shifting like a living circuit. Chimera stopped just a few feet from her, her eyes locking onto Starr's with an intensity that made the air feel colder.
"It's not a chat," Chimera said, her voice smooth and deliberate. "It's an opportunity. One that very few people get."
Starr crossed her arms, her stance defensive. "I've heard that before. I want details. Why me? Why now?"
Chimera studied her for a moment, as if weighing her answer carefully. "Because you're different, Starr. You've been through the crucible of Night City and survived. But this…" She gestured to the desolate landscape around them. "This isn't about survival. This is about something bigger."
Starr's eyes flickered, scanning Chimera for any sign of deceit. But the fixer was unreadable, her expression calm and controlled. Starr hated that. She didn't trust people she couldn't read, especially not someone as connected and dangerous as Chimera.
"I read the file," Starr said, her voice hardening. "You want me to break into The Mind Maze. You want me to go after Arasaka."
Chimera's smile widened slightly. "I knew you'd understand. You always were quick to catch on."
Starr's stomach tightened. She had heard rumors about The Mind Maze for years, whispered stories passed between mercs and runners about a secret facility where Arasaka conducted unsanctioned experiments. People said it was a place of nightmares, where cutting-edge technology and human minds were twisted into something unrecognizable. No one who entered The Mind Maze ever came back.
"What's in there that's worth dying for?" Starr asked, her voice laced with suspicion.
Chimera's expression didn't change, but there was something darker in her eyes now. "The future of Night City. The future of the world, if you want to get dramatic. Arasaka's been working on something—a new form of neural technology that could change everything. I need it. You're going to get it for me."
Starr scoffed. "Neural tech? Arasaka's been at that for decades. What makes this different?"
Chimera stepped closer, her voice lowering to a near whisper. "This isn't just tech. It's a weapon. They've perfected a form of neural manipulation that can rewrite memories, control thoughts, and turn anyone—anyone—into their puppet. With this, they can take control of the entire city without firing a single bullet."
Starr's blood ran cold. The implications were staggering. If what Chimera was saying was true, then Arasaka wasn't just playing with fire—they were about to burn the entire world down. The idea of having your mind rewritten, your very thoughts controlled by someone else… it was a fate worse than death.
"You expect me to go in there alone?" Starr asked, her skepticism growing. "Arasaka's got that place locked down tighter than a corpo CEO's safe. I wouldn't last five minutes."
Chimera's smile returned, more calculating now. "You won't be alone. I've assembled a team for you. The best Night City has to offer."
Starr raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
Chimera turned slightly, nodding toward the darkness. From behind the refueling station, three figures stepped into the dim light, each one as dangerous and unpredictable as the next.
The first was Zeke, a former Militech soldier turned solo. His massive frame and cybernetic enhancements made him look more like a tank than a man. His arms were heavily modded, built for close-quarters combat, and the cold, calculating look in his eyes told Starr he wasn't someone to be trifled with.
Beside him stood Byte, a netrunner with a reputation for hacking some of the most secure systems in the world. She was slim, almost wiry, her body covered in sleek chrome augmentations that glimmered faint.
Beside him stood Byte, a netrunner with a reputation for hacking some of the most secure systems in the world. She was slim, almost wiry, her body covered in sleek chrome augmentations that glimmered faintly in the rain. Her eyes were entirely synthetic, glowing a soft purple, constantly scanning as if she was seeing more than the world around her. Her fingers twitched with impatience, no doubt already interfacing with the network around them, pulling data from the area as she sized up Starr.
The third figure caught Starr off guard. It was Reaver—the ex-solo and black-market tech specialist Starr had a history with. He wore his usual combat jacket, his face partially hidden by his hood, but Starr could feel the heat of his stare beneath it. His dark hair was damp from the rain, slicked back, and his posture screamed casual indifference. But Starr knew better. Reaver was never indifferent. Every move he made was calculated, every decision meticulously planned.
Starr's jaw tightened. She hadn't seen Reaver since their last job went sideways, and that had been months ago. The tension between them still lingered like a wound that hadn't quite healed. He had offered her a way out of the city, a chance to leave Night City behind and start fresh, but she hadn't been able to take it. Now here he was again, standing in the rain, part of Chimera's hand-picked team for an impossible mission.
"Reaver," Starr said, her voice flat, concealing the emotions swirling inside.
Reaver's lips curled into a half-smile. "Nice to see you too, Layne."
Chimera stepped back, her eyes shifting between them, taking in the unspoken tension. "You three will work together on this. Zeke for muscle, Byte for infiltration, and Reaver… well, I'm sure you two can put your differences aside long enough to get the job done."
Starr clenched her fists. It was one thing to be sent on a suicide mission, but having Reaver along made everything more complicated. Too much history. Too many unresolved feelings. She had never been good at separating the past from the present, and she knew that working with him again would only stir up old wounds.
Chimera seemed to sense her hesitation. "I need all of you. No weak links. If any of you screw this up, Arasaka will hunt us all down. I can't afford to lose any more operatives. And I don't think you can afford to fail, either."
Starr's eyes flicked back to Chimera. "And if we succeed?"
Chimera's smile returned, predatory and cold. "You'll be set for life. Enough eddies to buy your own piece of the city, or leave it for good. Whatever your heart desires."
The promise of wealth didn't mean much to Starr, not anymore. She had seen what money did to people in Night City. It corrupted them, twisted them into something unrecognizable. But freedom… that was something else. The idea of walking away from the chaos, the constant danger, the bloodshed—it was tempting. And that was exactly why she didn't trust it.
"I'm in," Zeke said, his deep voice cutting through the rain. He cracked his knuckles, the metal joints in his fingers audibly clicking. "Been looking for a fight like this."
Byte nodded, her eyes flickering as if she was multitasking. "I've already pulled the blueprints for The Mind Maze. It's a fortress. But nothing's unhackable."
Starr's gaze turned to Reaver, who hadn't said a word since she arrived. His dark eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, there was a spark of something between them—something dangerous.
"I'll follow your lead," Reaver said softly, but his words held weight. The last time he had followed her lead, it hadn't ended well.
Starr's heart pounded in her chest, but she kept her voice steady. "Fine. We'll do it. But if this goes sideways, I'm not risking my life for anyone but myself."
Chimera's smile widened, pleased. "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, Layne. Now get moving. Time's short, and Arasaka's not waiting for anyone."
Preparation
Back at a safehouse hidden deep in the Badlands, Starr and her team gathered to make final preparations for the mission. The house was little more than a run-down bunker, half-buried under layers of sand and rusted metal. The wind howled outside, carrying the dust of the wasteland with it, but inside, the team worked quietly, efficiently, knowing what was at stake.
Byte had already begun setting up her gear, a mess of wires and holographic displays sprawled across a table. Her eyes were focused on the data streams projected in front of her, her fingers moving faster than Starr could track as she decrypted the layers of security surrounding The Mind Maze. Zeke was sharpening a pair of combat knives, their edges gleaming under the dim light. Reaver leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching Starr with a mixture of curiosity and something else she couldn't quite read.
Starr sat at the table, her eyes fixed on the blueprints Byte had pulled. The facility was massive—levels upon levels of secure labs, holding cells, and something called the "Core," a highly classified area at the very center of the building. It was there that Arasaka kept the neural tech Chimera wanted.
"We're looking at a three-phase infiltration," Byte said, not looking up from her work. "First, we get through the external security perimeter. Zeke will handle that. Second, I'll disable the internal alarms while Reaver and Starr go after the neural tech. Third, we exfil before Arasaka even knows we were there."
Zeke grunted. "How hard we talkin'? Heavy security?"
Byte smirked. "Does a bear shit in the woods? Yeah, heavy. But I'll handle it. You just need to keep the guards distracted while I get the systems offline."
Reaver remained silent, his eyes still on Starr. She could feel the weight of his gaze, but she refused to meet it. Instead, she studied the blueprints, trying to ignore the tension in the room. This wasn't just about the mission anymore. It was about trust—something that had been shattered between them long ago.
"Anything else we need to know?" Starr asked, her voice colder than she intended.
Byte hesitated for a moment, then glanced at Starr. "There's a risk."
"No shit," Zeke muttered.
Byte ignored him. "This neural tech… it's not just any brain-mod. It's an AI-driven system. From what I can tell, Arasaka's been using it to map neural pathways, to simulate entire human minds. There's a chance that if you interface with it, you won't come back the same."
Starr felt a chill run down her spine, but she kept her expression neutral. "I'll take that risk."
Reaver finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "Don't do anything stupid, Starr. If this goes wrong—"
"I know what I'm doing," Starr snapped, cutting him off. "You don't have to worry about me."
Reaver's eyes darkened, and for a moment, Starr thought he might push the issue. But instead, he just shook his head and walked away, disappearing into one of the side rooms of the bunker.
The tension in the air thickened, and Starr could feel the eyes of the others on her. She didn't care. Whatever Reaver thought, whatever lingering feelings were between them, she had no room for it now. Not when the mission demanded her full attention.
The Infiltration
The night of the mission arrived faster than Starr anticipated. The skies over Night City were pitch-black, the stars hidden behind a thick layer of smog. In the distance, the neon glow of the city's lights barely reached the Badlands, casting an eerie hue over the barren landscape.
The team approached The Mind Maze in silence, each of them riding in on maglev bikes designed for stealth and speed. The bikes made no sound as they crossed the cracked earth, their sleek frames blending seamlessly with the darkness. Starr's heart raced as they neared the facility, her mind focused entirely on the task at hand.
The facility itself was a towering structure, surrounded by layers of electrified fences, turrets, and drones patrolling the perimeter. The outer walls were smooth and gleaming, reflecting the faint lights of the security systems that lined the exterior. This wasn't just a building—it was a fortress.
Byte's voice crackled over the comms, her tone steady. "We're in position. Zeke, you ready?"
Zeke grunted in response, his bike slowing to a stop just outside the range of the security drones. He dismounted and moved toward the fence, his massive frame barely making a sound as he approached. With a swift motion, he activated a pair of EMP grenades, tossing them toward the nearest turret. The grenades detonated with a soft pop, and the turret went dead, its sensors flickering off.
"We're clear," Zeke said.
Byte immediately began working, her fingers flying across the controls of her portable deck. Starr could see the facility's security grid flicker as Byte hacked into the system, disabling alarms and rerouting power away from critical points.
"Give me a minute," Byte muttered. "This is tougher than I thought…"
Starr's eyes scanned the perimeter, her fingers tightening on the grip of her Overture. Any second now, they would be exposed.