The room buzzed faintly with the hum of electronics, a constant reminder of the boy's growing arsenal. The drone hovered quietly at his side, its targeting module periodically scanning the area. The boy sat cross-legged on the floor, poring over the salvaged parts he'd gathered from the repair shop. His Technopathy pulsed faintly in the back of his mind, syncing with the components as if he were mapping their potential.
The small plasma coil gleamed under the dim light. It wasn't much, but paired with the upgraded processor, it had the potential to power something bigger. Something more than just his drone.
First things first.
He reached for his soldering iron, the tool fitting comfortably in his hand. He had a plan, though it was fragile—pieced together like the scraps on his bench. He couldn't afford to misstep.
As he worked, his thoughts drifted back to the woman.
She had offered him protection, resources, and freedom to work on his own terms. But there had been something in her eyes—a flicker of calculation. She needed him, yes, but she would discard him the moment his usefulness ended.
It's a partnership of necessity, he reminded himself, not loyalty.
The scavengers were still a looming threat. He hadn't seen or heard from them since the alley ambush, but he knew better than to assume they'd forgotten him. Their leader was patient, methodical. They'd come when he least expected it.
He paused, setting the iron down as a cold chill ran through him.
I need better defenses. Something beyond this drone.
The idea of a weapon crossed his mind again, but it felt distant, like an itch he couldn't quite scratch. He'd always relied on his mind to solve problems—fists and firepower had never been his style. But Night City was forcing him to reevaluate.
The drone beeped softly, snapping him back to the present.
Its sensors had picked up a faint signal—a low-level ping from one of the scavengers' communication channels. He'd intercepted their frequency during his earlier escapades, patching into their network to monitor their movements.
The signal was faint, fractured, but clear enough to catch his attention.
"They're moving," he muttered, though the words were more for himself than the drone.
He leaned closer, letting his Technopathy delve into the signal. His mind traced the flow of data, piecing together the fragments like a puzzle.
The scavengers weren't far—only a few blocks away.
They're sweeping the area.
He clenched his fists, his mind racing. They weren't looking for someone else; they were looking for him.
Night City's streets were quieter at this hour, though "quiet" was relative. The neon glow still bathed the sidewalks, casting long shadows against the graffiti-stained walls.
The boy slipped through the alleys, his movements deliberate and calculated. He kept to the shadows, letting his Technopathy extend his senses. The city's surveillance systems were a spiderweb of watchful eyes, but he was beginning to learn how to navigate them.
He tapped into a nearby camera, hijacking its feed to monitor the streets ahead. The image flickered in his mind—a grainy, black-and-white view of two scavengers pacing near a vending machine.
Keep moving, he thought, cutting the feed as he darted into another alley.
The faint signal he'd picked up earlier had led him here. He wasn't planning to engage them—at least, not directly. He needed to learn their movements, their patterns. Every piece of information was a tool he could use.
The drone buzzed softly at his side, its sensors scanning for any immediate threats. He had disabled its targeting module for now—stealth was the priority.
Up ahead, the alley opened into a small courtyard. A fire burned in a rusted barrel at the center, the flickering flames illuminating a group of scavengers huddled around it. Their voices were low, muffled by the sound of distant traffic.
The boy crouched behind a stack of crates, his mind linking with the group's radio equipment.
Let's see what you're up to.
The data streamed into his consciousness—disjointed fragments of conversation, overlapping signals. He sorted through it, focusing on the most coherent threads.
"…still nothing. He's gotta be close, though."
"Boss says we keep looking. Kid like that doesn't just vanish."
A third voice, deeper and more commanding, cut through the static.
"Spread out. If you see anything—anything—call it in. No screw-ups this time."
The boy's breath caught in his throat. The leader.
He hadn't seen the man during the initial ambush, but his voice carried enough weight to make the boy's pulse quicken.
He's leading this himself now.
The group began to disperse, their heavy boots echoing against the pavement. The boy stayed low, his mind racing. He couldn't afford to stay here much longer—they were too close.
Back in the safety of his apartment, the boy paced restlessly. The scavengers were tightening their net, and it was only a matter of time before they found him.
I can't keep running forever.
He stopped, staring at the drone hovering silently in the corner.
"I need to make a move," he said, his voice quiet but firm.
The drone chirped softly, almost in agreement.
He sat down at his workbench, pulling out the salvaged plasma coil. It wasn't enough to power a full-scale weapon, but it could be repurposed into something smaller—something portable.
As he worked, his mind wandered to the idea of visibility. Cameras, eye chrome, the ever-present surveillance of Night City—they were constant threats.
If I can manipulate the feed… maybe I can disappear.
The concept wasn't new, but his Technopathy was still limited. The system window had said nothing about how his powers would evolve, or if they would at all. But the idea lingered.
For now, his focus was on survival. The scavengers were closing in, and he needed to be ready.
The plasma coil snapped into place with a faint click.
It was crude, makeshift, but functional. A small charge could be routed through the coil, enough to disable a target's cybernetics temporarily.
It wasn't a gun, but it was a start.
The boy leaned back, exhaling slowly. The scavengers weren't going to stop. The woman couldn't be trusted. Night City itself seemed designed to crush him.
But he wasn't going to give up.
Not yet.