The apartment was quiet, but his thoughts were loud, a chaotic mess that filled the silence with a relentless hum. The scavengers were still out there, tightening their net, and the boy knew his luck wouldn't hold out forever. It was only a matter of time before they found him.
His eyes fell on the compact taser he'd built from the salvaged plasma coil. It wasn't elegant, but it worked. It had to work. The scavengers wouldn't wait for him to be ready, and he couldn't rely on luck alone anymore.
He picked it up, feeling its weight in his hand. It was lighter than he expected, but solid, its improvised design a reflection of his own resourcefulness. His Technopathy hummed faintly as he mentally reviewed its components, reassuring himself that it wouldn't fail him in the field.
I need to test this, he thought. The decision came with a quiet finality, a resolve born out of necessity. He slipped the taser into his pocket and stood, his movements deliberate and measured.
The drone hovered at his side, its sensors active as it scanned the room. It had been his only ally since arriving in this world, a silent companion that followed him through every uncertain step.
"Stay close," he muttered, though the words were more for himself than the drone.
The drone chirped softly, its acknowledgement barely audible over the hum of its propulsion.
The streets of Night City were alive, their chaotic rhythm as relentless as ever. Neon signs flickered overhead, their garish colors casting distorted reflections in the puddles that dotted the sidewalks. The boy moved through the crowd with purpose, his eyes scanning the faces around him.
Blend in. Don't stand out.
He repeated the mantra in his head, his steps carefully calculated to appear natural. The scavengers were still searching for him—he'd intercepted their communications earlier, piecing together their routes through fragments of static-filled transmissions. They weren't just looking for someone. They were hunting.
The thought sent a chill down his spine, but he pushed it aside. Fear wouldn't help him now.
He turned into a narrow alley, leaving the noise of the crowd behind. The drone hovered just above his shoulder, its sensors on high alert.
The alley was dimly lit, the harsh glow of a single streetlamp barely illuminating the stacks of crates and debris that lined the walls. The boy crouched near a pile of rusted scrap, pulling the taser from his pocket. He pressed a button on its side, watching as the small coil began to hum with energy.
Good. It's stable.
He turned his attention to the faint signal he'd picked up earlier—a low-level transmission from the scavengers' comm network. His Technopathy reached out instinctively, syncing with the signal as he pieced together its fragmented data.
"Still nothing," one voice crackled. "He's gotta be close, though."
"Boss says we keep looking," another replied, the tone sharp with frustration. "Kid like that doesn't just vanish."
The boy's pulse quickened. They were close. Too close.
He directed the drone to hover near a surveillance camera mounted on the side of a nearby building. Its upgraded sensors tapped into the feed, relaying the grainy image directly into his mind.
A scavenger appeared on the screen, his cybernetic limbs gleaming under the faint light. He carried a shotgun slung over one shoulder, his other hand gripping a cigarette.
The boy's heart raced as he focused on the man, his Technopathy syncing with the scavenger's cyberware. It wasn't particularly advanced—basic enhancements for strength and durability—but it was enough to make him dangerous.
I can do this, the boy thought, his grip tightening on the taser.
The scavenger moved through the alley with the casual confidence of someone who didn't expect a fight. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, the glowing embers of his cigarette briefly illuminating his scarred face.
The boy stayed low, his movements silent as he crept closer. His Technopathy pulsed faintly, syncing with the scavenger's systems. He could feel the man's cybernetics like a second heartbeat, their hum a constant reminder of the gap between them.
He activated the taser, the coil glowing faintly as it charged. The scavenger paused, his head turning slightly as if sensing something.
"Who's there?" the man growled, his voice low and rough.
The boy didn't answer. He moved quickly, stepping into the man's blind spot.
The taser discharged with a sharp crack, the blue arc of electricity connecting with the scavenger's exposed cybernetics.
The man convulsed, his shotgun falling to the ground as his body hit the pavement. He twitched once, then lay still, his cyberware temporarily disabled.
The boy hesitated for only a moment before grabbing the shotgun. Its weight was unfamiliar in his hands, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. He retreated into the shadows, the drone following closely behind.
Back in the safety of his apartment, the boy set the shotgun on the workbench. He stared at it for a long moment, his mind replaying the encounter in vivid detail.
It worked. I actually did it.
The thought brought a fleeting sense of relief, but it was quickly overshadowed by the reality of his situation. The scavenger would report back to his group, and they'd know he was nearby.
This isn't over. Not even close.
He turned his attention to the drone, its sensors still scanning for threats. It had been invaluable during the mission, but it wasn't enough. He needed more tools, better defenses.
His gaze drifted to the shotgun. It was crude and worn, its barrel scratched from years of use. But it was functional.
Not bad for a first try.
The encounter had gone better than expected, but it wasn't a victory—not yet. The scavengers were still out there, and their leader was too smart to let him slip away again.
I need to be ready for them next time.
He leaned back in his chair, his mind already racing with ideas. The taser had been a good start, but it wasn't enough. He needed something more—a weapon, a defense system, something that would give him an edge.
His thoughts turned to the idea of invisibility. Cameras, eye chrome, the ever-present surveillance of Night City—they were constant threats. If he could manipulate the city's surveillance systems, he could disappear completely.
The concept wasn't new, but his Technopathy was still limited. The system window hadn't mentioned how his powers would evolve, or if they would at all. But the idea lingered, a faint glimmer of possibility in the back of his mind.
For now, his focus was on survival. The scavengers were closing in, and he couldn't afford to waste time.
He picked up the shotgun again, inspecting it carefully. The action was smooth, the mechanism well-maintained despite its outward appearance. It was a tool—a crude, ugly tool, but one that could save his life.
The boy set the shotgun aside, his attention shifting to the drone. It needed upgrades—something to make it more than just a surveillance tool.
Weapons. Armor. Stealth capabilities.
The list grew longer with every passing moment, each idea building on the last. He didn't have all the answers yet, but he was learning. Night City wasn't going to make this easy for him, but he wasn't about to give up.
Not yet.