Cyberpunk Tempest Shadow


                                            > "This is a bad idea."

                                            "Can you stop saying that?"

                                            > "I keep saying it because you're going to get yourself killed."

                                            "Unless you have a better idea, spill it.  If not, shut up."

                                            > The silhouette groans but otherwise says nothing.

                                            > "Just don't come complaining to me if you die."

                                            "Why do you even care?  If I die, your gang could just walk away with the prize.  There'd be no one to stop you."

                                            > "Those of us in the Hivemind are more loyal and trustworthy than those Phantom Bloods or these Storm Rulers."

                                            "Sure, I'll believe it when I see it.  Now, get into position.  We don't have all night.

                                            > Without a word, he actives something on his wrist and flies to a nearby rooftop to make the necessary preparations.

                                            > You weren't sure why you were being forced to team up with another gang.  The Hivemind were expert hackers sure, but you had people who could do just as good a job without you worrying about being stabbed in the back.

                                            > You thought to yourself 'What could she be thinking?'  However, those concerns would have to wait until after the mission was finished.

                                            > Your target, a warehouse.  Inside, the blueprints for some experimental technology held by the Storm Rulers.  Your archenemies.

                                            > You weren't told what it was, only that you'd know it when you see it.  Your plan for getting it was simple.  Cause a distraction long enough for your team to bypass the security and steal the asset.


                                            > It was your first mission as a lieutenant, so failure was not an option.  And since your squad was made up entirely of Hivemind members, any losses you incurred would also fall squarely on your head.

                                            > As you step out of an alleyway, you throw on a cloak to cover-up your arsenal. Walking down the sidewalk, you see the building sitting alone on the edge of a dead-end street.

                                            > As the guards outside take notice of you, you try to appear as nonthreatening as possible.

                                            "Evenin' fuckers.  Is this where the party's at?"

                                            > "Not so fast, dipshit.  Where do you think you're going?"  The first guard barks.

                                            "Just lookin' to cut loose, my main man.  Heard this was the place to be."

                                            > "Well, you heard wrong.  Go get your rocks off somewhere else."

                                            "You tellin' me that a place like this ain't bustin' at the seams with shit that will fuck you up and bitches you can fuck with?  Nawww, I don't buy it.  You just want to keep the good shit to yourselves."

                                            > "You'll get your shit fucked up alright.  Stick around, and we'll show you a REAL good time."

                                            "Why so hostile man?  I'm just lookin' for a place where I can take a seat to kick up my feet and feel the heat of the street as I meet with two cheats to beat my meat until I skeet while I suckle on their teats."

                                            "You know what I'm saying?  This guy knows what I mean.  Am I right, or am I right?

                                            > "Get this fucker out of here."  One of the shade's commands.

                                            > As instructed, two of the closest imposing looking men walk towards you and spin you around and begin shoving you down the street.

                                            "Y'all must be part of the Black Shadows thinking y'all are better than everyone else."

                                            > "Hold it!"  What did you just say?"  The leader asks angrily.

                                            "I'm just sayin' tall, dark, and ugly as shit.  I'd be a-"

                                            > "Bring that sack of shit here."


                                            > You quickly get one-eightied by the two roided out guards before getting shoved to the ground as the person in charge of the operation looms over you.

                                            > "Allow me to set the record straight.  The Black Shadows are traitors and scum.  We operate with much more class and skill than those degenerate street rats."

                                            "Is that why you're working in these dank ass slums jerking each other off?"

                                            > One of the guards kicks you in the back, causing you to kiss the pavement hard.

                                            > "You've got a lot of nerve talking to a Storm Ruler like that kid.  We've had control of this city for nearly two decades now.  Our word is law and as such we deserve to be treated with dignity and respect.  Anybody who says otherwise gets rubbed out."

                                            "I get you.  That's cool, but can I go now?  You're really bumming me out with all this turf war shit."

                                            > The man in front of you grabs a cybernetically enhanced hammer off his back and points it at you.

                                            > "First things first, we got to teach you some manners."

                                            > Just a little longer.

                                            "Come on man.  Don't be like that.  I've just had a rough day I didn't mean any of those things I said."

                                            > "Too late.  Next time you'll know better than to mouth off to people bigger than you."

                                            > However, before the leader could even wind up to swing, the warehouse erupts in a series of small explosions.  All of you were startled by the unannounced eruption giving you the small window you needed.

                                            > You flick two quarter sized metallic discs at the hired muscle behind you.  Upon contact, they latch onto their clothing before dispersing an electric shock that stuns them.

                                            > You quickly push yourself up off the floor and slide back behind the two goons.  As you do so, you quickly pull out dual pistols and pop each of the thugs in the back of the head, execution-style.


                                            > Before you could take out the commander, he whips out a rifle and aims.  Not wanting to risk it, you roll behind his dead, but still standing, buddy, and shoot a magnetic grapple hook from your wrist to a nearby neon sign.

                                            > It reels you in as the bullets start flying behind you.  You get off a few covering shots before dismounting onto the roof.

                                            > "It's the Black Shadows, after that fucker."

                                            > "But boss, what about the cargo?"

                                            > "If you want to go in there and look be my guest.  If not, bring the car around so we can kill that asshole."

                                            > Continuing to grapple away, you tap your earpiece to turn on your communicator.

                                            "Please tell me that was you guys."

                                            > (Static)

                                            "This is the Anonymous Shadow, come in."

                                            > (More static)

                                            "Fuck me."

                                            > You continue shouting profanities as you ride the skyline to escape.  You didn't know what to do.  Your team was probably dead, the asset most likely destroyed, and you had a group of bloodthirsty grunts hunting you down.

                                            > The only thing you had going for you was your excellent mobility.  If you could use it to find a nesting spot, you could pickoff your pursuers with your trusty sniper rifle.

                                            > Then again, you could call for back-up and be done with it.

                                            > No, this was your mission, your responsibility, if you came back empty-handed with your tail between your legs, you'd never hear the end of it.

                                            > You had to do this alone or die trying.

                                            > As you traversed the cityscape the sound of police sirens could be heard far off in the distance.  No doubt, making their way to the warehouse to investigate the explosions.

                                            > You stop for a moment and steal a glance over your shoulder.  The two-bit criminals were still after you.  Too bad for them, you know this side of town like the back of your hand.

                                            > After reaching a new rooftop, you throw down a smokescreen before grappling to a different high point.


                                            > Slinking into the shadows, you wait to see if your pursuers pass.  Upon taking a closer look, you notice that they had mobilized a flying car with armor plating on it.

                                            > Not good.  You don't have anything strong enough in your arsenal to deal with that.  You'll have to draw them out.

                                            > Throwing off your cloak, you begin setting up a trap.

                                            > Decoy, check.

                                            > Tripwires, check.

                                            > Escape route, check.

                                            > Guns loaded, check.

                                            > Now, all you had to do was spring it.

                                            > Looking carefully through your scope, you identify six targets.  Two in the car, the other four on foot.  Unfortunately, the man in charge was one of the people sheltered in the metal hovercraft.

                                            > You'd wager he won't leave his little bubble unless absolutely necessary.

                                            > "He's around here somewhere.  One thousand eddies to the first guy who brings me his head."

                                            "Not today."

                                            > (Bang)

                                            > Your first shot rips through the first victim's head.  Dropping him like a sack of bricks.  The rest of the gang quickly takes cover, but one of them doesn't do so well enough.

                                            > (Bang)

                                            > Another one bites the dust.

                                            > "Oh, this kid's going to get it.  Form up behind me."

                                            > The two remaining goons run behind the floating tank as it slowly moves in your direction.

                                            > They must have been able to deduce which direction the shots came from being safely inside the car.  Now, you didn't have a clear shot.

                                            > Aiming at the windows, you pop a few bullets into the bulletproof glass to obscure their vision and make them rely on the vehicle's cameras.

                                            > You quickly reload.  Hoping one of them is dumb enough to peak their head out.

                                            > "I think he's at the top of that tower."  The driver barks.

                                            > "Alright boys, get in, we're finishing this."


                                            > As the two gunmen try to get into the vehicle, you pick one of them off.  Three down, three to go.

                                            > However, you've been spotted, and your primary weapon wouldn't do you any good in close quarters.  So, you pick up your things and brandish your handguns before taking cover.

                                            > The armored vehicle ascends quickly to your location and circles it cautiously.  Pointing it's headlights down like searchlights.

                                            > "There he is!  Dust his ass!"

                                            > The three remaining assailants open up their car doors and begin spraying automatic fire down upon you.

                                            > At least, what they thought was you.  A metal pipe with your jacket over it is torn to shreds in an instant.  Popping out from behind cover, you fire your grappling hook and attach it to the underbelly of the car.

                                            > Jumping from the rooftop, you swing underneath the vehicle, causing it to lurch from the strain of your new weight.  As you reach the apex of your arc you spin around and empty your magazine.

                                            > You kill the guy in the back seat but only succeed in wounding the commander.

                                            > As you swing back to the building you detonate your remote tripwires to create a smokescreen as gunfire erupts behind you.  Running as fast as you could to the opposite side you roll off of the roof.

                                            > As you do so, you attach your magnetic grapple to a metal pipe to guide you as you slide down the side of the building.

                                            > Switching to your other pistol, you check your clip to see you only have a few rounds left.  You quickly realize you no longer held any advantages over your assailants.

                                            > Doubt soon began eating away at the back of your mind.  Facing her would be humiliating and shameful, but at this point, it beat the alternative.


                                            > If you could get to the subway you could grab a train and assimilate into the crowd.  Looking up, you see the armored car slowly descend to street level.

                                            > All that running and jumping had led you to a busier part of town.  Many people in the street seem panicked and alert by the gunfire, but none of them took cover or ran to safety.

                                            > As you poked your head around the corner you scan for a subway access and spot one across the street behind your attackers.  If you still had your cloak you'd feel more confident about sneaking past them.

                                            > The two goons elected to stay in the car once they hit the asphalt and parked nonchalantly on the side of the road.  You couldn't tell what they were doing with their windshield shot up.

                                            > Were they calling for back-up, weighing their options, tending to their wounds?  Whatever they were doing your time was running out.  Sooner or later, they'd find you, and with only a few bullets left, you were all but a dead man.  You had to do something, and you had to do it now.

                                            > (VROOOM) (VROOOM) (VROOOM)

                                            > All of a sudden, the familiar sound of a motorcycle engine revving grabs your attention.  You bump your head against the wall cursing yourself as the sound gets closer.

                                            > Sure enough, you steal a glance at the oncoming traffic to see what you most feared.

                                            > A woman in a tight-fitting latex suit rode her red and black sports bike down the road before parking no more than ten feet from you.  Her head was turned to you, but you couldn't see her expression through the visor of her helmet.

                                            > Which was good because you didn't want to see it.  The last thing you wanted was to be given 'the look.'

                                            "Why are you here?"  You groan.


                                            > "I'm here because I heard an entire city block was leveled in an instant.  Now lieutenant, report."

                                            "Don't patronize me.  If you're here, you already know what the deal is, so can we cut the crap."

                                            > "I asked for a report soldier, and I expect to get one."

                                            "I'm a little busy at the moment, so can we talk later?"

                                            > "Pathetic.  I trained you better than this.  Killing a few street rats should have be an easy task for you."

                                            "And yet, even with your training, here I am.  Almost out of bullets fighting a tank.  What do you expect me to do?"

                                            > "To win."

                                            "How?"

                                            > "I'll show you."

                                            > You wish you hadn't said that.  Now you're going to have to watch as she styles on some fools to make you look bad.

                                            > She revs her engine a few times to catch the attention of your assailants.  Unsurprisingly, they take the bait, charging full speed towards her.

                                            > As they race towards each other, the woman grabs a staff from her back, which extends and transforms into a red scythe made of super-heated plasma.

                                            > Then, right before the two of them collide, she tilts her motorcycle to the side and drifts underneath the car.  Swinging her blade through the car like a hot knife through butter.

                                            > And as she reached the fuel tank, the car exploded behind her.

                                            > The shockwave set off nearby car alarms as the fire erupted into a plume of flames before quickly dying out.

                                            > She casually drives over the wreckage before stopping next to you again.

                                            > "Get on.  We'll talk later."

                                            "Fine, mom."

                                            > "Ahem!"

                                            "I mean, boss."

                                            > Reluctantly, you hop on the back and hold on as she bolts through the city streets.  Just another day in the city of dreams called, Night City.

                                            https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ijP0i_5zdk&list=PLDisKgcnAC4SqX0mi1J5_gd7-hrIS5yJp&index=


                                            > The ride was brief as your mother bobbed and weaved through the city streets.  Taking you straight to your gang's secret base.

                                            > An abandoned warehouse surrounded by unassuming suburban homes.  Kids, unknowingly, played around with the heavy machinery during the day to keep up that appearance.

                                            > She took the sewer entrance like she always did.  Flying through the narrow passages at blistering speeds before approaching a dead-end.  Or what appeared to be a dead-end.

                                            > The concrete wall quickly rose as you raced towards it and promptly closed behind you once you were inside.

                                            > Before she parked, you quickly dismount and begin walking towards the armory.

                                            > "And where do you think you're going, lieutenant?"

                                            "To restock, obviously."

                                            > "Not before you tell me what happened."  She says as she removes her helmet.

                                            > You should have known better.  There was no way she was going to let this go.

                                            "We converged at the warehouse as planned.  I provided a distraction while the Hivemind infiltrated  perimeter, and before I knew it the place went up in a ball of flames."

                                            > "And your squad?"

                                            "Dead, I assume.  Not that it matters.  They were Hivemind anyway."

                                            > "It DOES matter.  I made a contract with their leader, and all I did was get their people killed.  That not only makes us look bad, but they will no doubt want revenge against us."

                                            "Yeah, because we got along swimmingly before this."

                                            > "This operation wasn't just about hitting the Storm Rulers.  It was about gaining allies to fight them down the road, and you succeeded in doing neither."

                                            "If you had contact with their leader why didn't you just kill them and be done with it?  We could be rid of that thorn altogether."

                                            > "Even with a name like the Hivemind, exterminating their queen doesn't eliminate the hive.  Someone else would inevitably take her place, and we'd still be enemies."

                                            "So, now what?"


                                            > "First, you're going to apologize personally to their commander and figure out how we can make-up for this mess you made."

                                            "Are you fucking serious!  You can't-"

                                            > "I'M NOT FINISHED!"

                                            > "You will also be at the head of any mission they send you on to mend our partnership."

                                            "Are you skezzed out of your mind?  They'll shoot me on sight if I go anywhere near their territory."

                                            > "I'll arrange a meeting to ensure that doesn't happen.  And if they kill you anyways know that I will avenge you."

                                            > Great, that makes you feel so much better.

                                            > "But before you go I'm going to introduce you to someone.  Follow me."

                                            > You follow her to the elevator where she lifts a panel above the switches.  Revealing an eye scanner and voice detector.  She looks hard into the glowing screen before saying the phrase.

                                            > "Frosted cupcakes."

                                            > Fucking, really?  Who has frosted cupcakes as their password?

                                            > "Password accepted.  Voice verified.  Commander Tempest Shadow."

                                            > The elevator begins descending deep into the Earth.  Deeper than you knew it could; before stopping with a heavy metal clang.

                                            > You step out of the cold metal box into a room filled with servers and other large computing machines.  Each flashing various colors as they hummed away doing what they were built to do.

                                            > At the end of the room sat a small fat man with a harness around his head and a large cable connected to the back of his neck.

                                            > "Time to wake up, Grubber."

                                            > Your mother taps a few keys into the console next to him before the man twitches a little before stretching and letting out a long yawn.

                                            > "We really gotta do this in person, Temp?"

                                            > "Yes, I know you're connection is secure but this is important, and I need your undivided attention."

                                            > "Sup, kid.  Been a while."

                                            > You look at your mother with a puzzled look on your face.

                                            "Who is this?"


                                            > "This is Grubber.  My right-hand man and best Netrunner in all of Night City, when he wants to be."

                                            > "If we're going to be sitting here talking for a bit, do you mind if I order something?"  He interjects.

                                            > "You're going to regardless of what I tell you.  Just make it quick; there's much to discuss."

                                            > His eyes begin to glow as he sits there and makes a call without unhooking or removing anything.

                                            > You had so many questions you didn't even know where to start.

                                            "This fatass is your right-hand man, and I've never met him?  I thought I was your right-hand man."

                                            > "You are an assassin, and while I call upon you more frequently than others, he has been with me much longer than you have."

                                            > "Done.  Sorry about that.  What were we talking about."

                                            > "Grubber, introduce yourself."

                                            > "What?  Oh yeah.  The kid probably doesn't remember me.  Name's Grubber.  I'm the boss's eyes and ears."  He extends his hand to you, which you firmly shake.

                                            > "Been with your mother since the days when we were still with the Storm Rulers.  Was even with her when you were born and conceived."

                                            "Wait.  What!"

                                            > "Ignore him.  He speaks of things I've told him countless times to be silent on."

                                            > She gives him a stern glare, which shuts him up real quick.

                                            > "In any case, I am instructing him to watch over you from this day forward."

                                            > You don't believe this.

                                            "Mom, I don't need-"

                                            > "COMMANDER!"

                                            "Commander."  You sigh.  "I don't need a babysitter.  I've done fine on my own up until this point."

                                            > "That may be true, but your meeting with Grubber here has been a long time coming.  Besides, he's been keeping tabs on you without my permission, haven't you."

                                            > The tiny man just shuffles and laughs nervously in his chair without making eye contact.

                                            > "Regardless, you two can get acquainted later.  For now, you need to speak with the Hivemind leader, and I need a few words with Grubber here."


                                            > In all honesty you should be happy.  You were expecting a more severe tongue lashing than what you got.  However, now she's making some Netrunner babysit you and forcing you to do a greatly demeaning job.

                                            > Plus, this Gonk you've never heard of is your mother's most trusted man.  You're her son.  You've done everything she's asked, and you still get no respect from her.

                                            > There was a million and one things you wanted to say to her, but you felt you would just be wasting your time.

                                            "We need more time to talk about this."

                                            > "I agree.  However, the night is young, and many things still need to be done.  For now, resupply and meet at the location I send you."

                                            > Her eyes shimmer as she quickly sends you the information.  It only takes a few seconds to download, and once it's done you see the address pop up in the corner of your vision.

                                            "That's not exactly close."

                                            > "I know.  And since your car is in the shop, you can take my bike.  Now, get going.  We'll talk more when you get home."

                                            > Well, at least she's acknowledging that this is a tough pill to swallow.

                                            > Taking your leave you return to the elevator and take it back to ground level.

                                            > "You should have told him."  Grubber said.

                                            > "About what exactly?"

                                            > "Come on, Temp, you're being too hard on the kid.  The least you could do was tell him that we know that the Hivemind planned to fleece us from the very beginning, or the fact that the troops he thought were dead are still alive."

                                            > "He needs to be oblivious to the truth in order to fool them and infiltrate their ranks successfully."

                                            > "Hate to be the one to tell you this, but you're wrong.  Anon is as cool a customer as they come.  Takes a lot after you in that regard.  I mean, he is your son.  You should put more faith in him."

                                            > "I put plenty of faith in him, but he still has much to learn.  A little humility will do him some good."


                                            > "Fine.  Far be it from me to tell you how to be a parent.  Now, all this heavy talk about Anon has worked up my appetite.  You wanna join me?"

                                            > "I'll pass.  I need to make a call, then do some training."

                                            > "Suit yourself."


                                            > Meanwhile...


                                            > Zipping through traffic on your mother's motorcycle, you grip the handlebar tightly as you were still upset.

                                            > You pledged to make her happy almost ten years ago by training and doing everything she said in hopes of accomplishing one goal.  And yet, you feel you haven't come any closer to realizing that dream.

                                            > You've killed dozens of people, smuggled every illegal substance and person imaginable, committed acts of terrorism, and it still wasn't enough to gain her respect.

                                            > That naive child would have thought twice if he knew the hardships he would have had to endure.  Even so, the days of having regrets were long gone.  You were part of the game now, and it was a game that you played for life.

                                            > Upon reaching your destination, you park your ride up on the sidewalk next to the curb.

                                            > Two of the guards standing outside the tall skyscraper's entrance began to approach you as you dismounted.

                                            > "Who are you!?"  One of them barks.

                                            "I'm Anonymous.  I have a meeting with your boss."

                                            > "Sure, you do."

                                            > You wait as he communicates wordlessly with someone over the phone.

                                            > "Alright, no sudden movements, and follow me."

                                            > You do as your instructed and shadow the first guard while the other walks behind you.

                                            > As they led you inside, you neither see nor hear a part of your mother's motorcycle detach itself and silently fly off.

                                            > The men corral you into an elevator that takes you underground to an abandoned subway station.  There, you are brought to a small featureless room with walls composed of concrete and a single light mounted to the ceiling.


                                            > No doubt a room where they interrogate people.  You could smell the distinct odor of bleach, used in an attempt to wipe away the stench of past sins, making your stomach churn and your skin itch.

                                            > Leaning against the far wall, you wait as the two guards stand patiently near the door.

                                            > You could feel the hatred in their eyes as they waited for someone to arrive.  All you could think was how you were going to react when they did.

                                            > "You have a lot of nerve coming here, boy."

                                            > A voice echoes into the room.

                                            > "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you where you stand."

                                            "Because you have nothing to gain by doing so."

                                            > "Don't I?  I'd say killing an assassin who has killed many of my people to be ample reason."

                                            "If you really thought that you'd have done it already.  No, you want to hear what I have to say first."

                                            > "Have everything figured out, do you?  Well then, speak."

                                            > The voice was distinctly feminine and close.  It didn't reverberate or crackle like that if it were coming from a speaker.  No, she was in the room with you, cloaked from your vision.

                                            "If you've been in contact with my boss, you would know I'm here to make amends for the failure of our last mission."

                                            > "Really?  And what exactly does that entail?"

                                            "Honestly, I'm unclear about what that means too.  And yet, here I am."

                                            > "Hmm, interesting."

                                            > From the darkness, a silhouette approaches you.

                                            > A woman, who appeared to be more machine than flesh, slowly saunters her way towards you.

                                            > You wait, unmoving and unflinching as she inches ever closer towards you.

                                            > "When you were sent here, did your boss say that you were to do ANYTHING to make up for this little mishap?"

                                            "It was implied."

                                            > She lets out a short laugh as she tenderly drags her razor-sharp metallic fingers across your cheek.


                                            > "VERY interesting."

                                            > "Tell me something, child."

                                            > [spoiler] "Do you fear death?" [/spoiler] She whispers in your ear.

                                            "No."  You reply flatly.

                                            > She pulls back and analyzes your face for any hint of deception, and when she finds none, she smiles.

                                            > "It's a rare thing to find such a cold-blooded killer at your age.  No war scars, no psychiatric tendencies, and especially no hidden desires."

                                            > "Most men look at me and can not help but fantasize, but you.  I could feel your heartbeat as I touched your face.  Not an ounce of fear, nor a hint of lust.  I could use more men like you."

                                            "If you're asking me to join your gang, I'm afraid that isn't on the table.  Besides, I was under the impression that you only cared about men who are crazy about you."

                                            > "I do adore my little love-bugs, yes, but they cannot supply me what I truly need."

                                            "And that is?"

                                            > "Unbridled passion.  More than a simple desire, a hunger.  When I look in your eyes, I see that emotion caged inside you, and it gives me shivers to imagine what you would be like if you were to set them free."

                                            "You make it sound like you can physically feed off people's emotions like a succubus."

                                            > "I can, in a way.  Braindances, are you familiar with them?"

                                            "I only know what I've heard from others, and that's not much."

                                            > "It's a process where every sight, sound, and sensation is captured and recorded.  Whether you are conscious of it or not, every single moment anyone has ever lived can be archived and viewed at any time."

                                            > "Naturally, having access to all range of emotions at all times gradually wears down an individual's psyche.  They cease to be themselves or no longer react to certain stimulus the way they should, and that's where I come in."


                                            > "Since people no longer experience life as they should, I provide a unique service that fills the void in their empty lives."

                                            "By having and recording sex?  Doesn't seem like the revolutionary idea you make it out to be."

                                            > "You misunderstand.  I'm not simply referring to sex.  Any event that causes a strong emotional response is invaluable to me.  Whether it be the loss of a loved one or being conscious as your insides are ripped out of you.  People pay good money to feel and witness these things."

                                            "Really?  That's all legal?"

                                            > "Of course not.  That's why people pay good money for it."

                                            "Regardless, what does this have to do with me?"

                                            > "Since you've been gracious enough to offer your services to me after failing to acquire the Netcracking gear you promised, my job for you is to discover a new Braindance and to deliver it exclusively to me."

                                            > Netcracking gear.  So that's what it was.  Now it makes sense why the Hivemind was willing to partner up with you.

                                            "Is that all?"

                                            > "This is no simple task.  I won't accept any product short of extraordinary.  Plus, you'll be doing this errand free of charge.  Sounds more than fair to me.  Wouldn't you agree?"

                                            "If those are your terms, then consider it done."

                                            > "Excellent.  My children will show you out.  Until then, Anonymous."

                                            > You maintain eye contact until you walk past her.  Her demands were straightforward enough, and yet her words reeked of venom.  Either she knew something you didn't or had other ulterior motives.

                                            > Whatever it was, it didn't sit right with you.  Then again, you've had to deal with an abnormal amount of shit today.  Maybe you were just paranoid.

                                            > When you get back on your mother's bike you notice it's a bit lighter than you remember.  You hop off to see if any part of it was klepted while you were inside, but see nothing missing.


                                            > You weren't a mechanic, but everything seemed to be in order.  You felt like you were going crazy.  It had been a long day, sure.  But, were you losing it?  Maybe you should head home and rest.  Get your head straightened out.

                                            > Just then, a little drone silently flies next to you and lets out a short and hushed beeping noise.  You move to the side and watch as the little robot opens a secret compartment in the back of the bike before flying inside and closing the hatch behind it.

                                            > Suddenly, things were beginning to click.  You throw on your helmet and peel out into the empty streets.  You were heading home, but now, for different reasons.

                                            > (Ring) (Ring)

                                            > Unknown number.

                                            > You answer.

                                            "Who is this?"

                                            > "Kid.  It's Grubber.  How'd the meeting go?"

                                            "How did you know to call me now?  Is that drone yours?"

                                            > "Technically, it's your mother's, but I use it a lot more than she does."

                                            "Is she at home right now?"

                                            > "Should be.  Though I got to tell you something."

                                            "Not now.  Besides, I have a pretty good idea of what you're going to say, and I'd rather hear it from her."

                                            > "Preem, then I'm going to let you go.  Talk later."

                                            "Bye."


                                            > By the time you got home, the sun was on the cusp of bringing the first morning light.  Normally, it would be the time you'd call it a day to get some sleep.  But right now, you were wired.

                                            > You needed to see her to confirm your suspicions.  It was the only way you were going to sleep soundly.

                                            > You pulled up to your apartment complex and quickly parked inside your private garage.

                                            > Not even bothering to go inside, you aim your grapple hook upwards and begin scaling the outside wall.  Less than a minute later, you were standing on your small balcony.

                                            > The sliding glass door was unlocked just like you left it.

                                            > You step inside and narrowly avoid a kitchen knife fly past your head and stick into the wall beside you.


                                            > "I thought I told you to knock when you did that."

                                            "You did.  I just had more important things on my mind.  Like how you lied to me."

                                            > "I never lied to you."

                                            "Failing to tell me what the deal is between you and the Hivemind feels like a lie to me."

                                            > "You're viewpoint of the situation is irrelevent, and since you're still alive and asking me this I assume Grubber didn't tell you anything."

                                            "I shouldn't hear anything from him when I can hear it from you.  I'm your son.  Yet you treat me like a I'm your enemy."

                                            > "I can't show weakness to anybody, even to you.  I let my guard down once, and it cost me everything.  After that day I swore it would never let it happen again."

                                            "I'm guessing you're referring to what dad did to you.  Did you lose your arm that day too?  Since you've never told me about that either."

                                            > "A story for another time.  Tell me how the meeting went instead."

                                            > You finally close the door behind you, before pulling out the knife from the wall, tossing it back to her, and taking a seat on a bar stool.

                                            "Fine.  She instructed me to track down a top notch Braindance for the trouble I caused.  Which, I'm starting to suspect was a set-up from the beginning."

                                            > "You would be correct."

                                            > You scoff.  The things she makes you do, and you're supposed to just sit there and take it.

                                            "I have half a mind to walk down to Hurricane Heights, climb the Maelstrom Tower, and join the Storm Rulers."

                                            > You mother takes the knife you gave back and chucks it at you again.  Only this time you catch it between your fingers.

                                            > "DO NOT JOKE ABOUT THAT!"

                                            "WHO SAYS I'M JOKING.  AT LEAST THERE THEY'D MAKE ME FEEL LIKE A SOMEBODY!"

                                            > "YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THEY WOULD DO TO YOU!  MY ARM WASN'T THE ONLY THING I LOST WHEN I LEFT THEM!"

                                            > You fiddle with the knife in your hand before setting it down on the counter.

                                            "Then tell me.  What else did you lose?"


                                            > ...

                                            > "It's in the past and no concern of yours.  Now, do you want to know about the Hivemind or not?"

                                            > It took all of your strength not to start yelling again.  When it came to your mother, you had to choose your battles, and this was one of them.

                                            > You would drop it, for now.  But you will find out the truth one day, until then, you motion for her to continue.

                                            > "The drone in my bike did a scan of the surrounding area while you were unknowingly buying time.  Thanks to your distraction, we were able to construct a full 3-D model of the building and the loading bay area."

                                            > "Me and Grubber suspect that the gear stolen from the Storm Rulers is stored here.  A small room one floor underneath the ground level and directly below the docking area.  Adjacent to where most of their netrunning gear is being held.

                                            > "The plan is, once you go back with the Braindance, you will infiltrate their facility, recover the misappropriated goods, and escape out the back entrance where a getaway car will be waiting for you."

                                            > "Any questions?"

                                            > You hate to admit, but it was a good plan.  Hitting your enemy when they were most vulnerable.  Plus, no other people to distract you or get in your way.  It was a mission made for you.  High risk, high reward.  Only one slight hiccup.

                                            "It's good, but we'll be stealing from some of the best Netrunners in the business.  Without proper ICE to shield myself they could fry my brain before I even get the chance to do anything."

                                            > "Yes, which is why I'm scheduling you for some new implants tomorrow.  On top of that, I've taken the liberty to order a new sniper rifle for you.  It won't be of much use to you in this job, but it will serve you well in situations like the one I saved you from last night."

                                            > And just like that, your hatred was gone.  Your burning fury had fizzled out into a tense simmer.  You had a new target, a new plan, and soon new equipment.

                                            > You weren't happy about it, but you knew that didn't matter to her.


                                            > The next day, you both sat patiently in a waiting room to see a Ripperdoc.  To the untrained eye, the two of you seemed like a normal family going to the doctor when that couldn't be further from the truth.

                                            > "Ms. Shadow.  The doctor will see your son now."

                                            > Without a word, both of you stood up and followed her to the back room.

                                            > "Been awhile Tempest.  How long's it been five years?"  Said a man, smoking in the corner.

                                            > "Seven.  Cranky."

                                            > "Damn, I'm getting old.  Time gets away from you in my line of work."

                                            > His eyes slowly make their way over to you as he notices someone standing in your mother's shadow.

                                            > "Who's the kid?"

                                            > "Anonymous, my son.  You remember?"

                                            > "Fuck me.  That's your boy?  Don't even recognize him anymore.  How you been, kiddo?"

                                            "I've been better.  Can we hurry this along?  I don't know how long this will take, and we have other things to do today."

                                            > "Yeah, your Tempest's kid, alright.  Look like her spitting image with that attitude.  Back in her younger days anyway."

                                            > "As much as I'd like to catch up, he's right.  Do you have everything ready?"

                                            > "Let me see here."

                                            > He grabs a datapad from his desk and begins to scroll through it.

                                            > "New software installation.  A damn good one too.  And new eyes, also top of the line.  You're one lucky son of a bitch, kid.  People would kill for these types of upgrades."

                                            "People would kill for anything in this city.  Now, can we get on with it?"

                                            > "Sure, you ungrateful brat, but you should appreciate that your mother is doing this for you."

                                            "She's only doing it to increase my effectiveness and ability to complete missions.  Nothing more."  You say while taking a seat in the patient's chair.

                                            > "Kid, it's going to take me three minutes to install cyberware that costs as much as what I normally make in three months.  Parents don't do that unless they care."

                                            "You keep telling yourself that."

                                            > The old man scoffs.  "Kids these days.  Don't know how good they got it."


                                            > Seemingly having no more objections, he plugs a few cables into you and straps a harness to your head.

                                            > A progress bar pops up in the middle of your vision as Cranky downloads your new software.

                                            > "Not sure how familiar you are with this process, but I'll have to disable your optics for a minute before I implant your new ones."

                                            "Just tell me when."

                                            > "Now."

                                            > And true to his word, the world around you went dark.

                                            > "Be extra still for this next part.  Any sudden movements and I could accidentally puncture a nerve."

                                            > Taking a deep breath, you sit patiently as you wait for your sight to return to you.  When it did, you noticed that your perspective had changed.  You were now looking directly at your mother while Cranky was off to the side.  Along with your body?

                                            > Realizing he hadn't inserted your new hardware yet, you let your body relax.

                                            > "Now, you'll have a minor migraine for about a day as your new eyes adjust.  I'll give you some painkillers before you leave to take the edge off."

                                            "Don't bother.  If it's just a day, I'll manage."

                                            > "Why am I not surprised.  Fine then, be miserable.  I couldn't care less."

                                            > He picks up the set of eyes, and you watch as your vision shifts from one point back to where your body lay.

                                            > After a few seconds, you could feel your new eyes slot into place, and with it, a wave of dull pain.  You squirm a little as you acclimate to the discomfort.

                                            > "Still don't want those painkillers?"

                                            "I think you overstated how bad it would be.  I'll get over it."

                                            > "Sure thing, tough guy."  With that, he begins the process of unplugging wires and removing the contraption, attached to your head.

                                            > "Almost done.  First, scan this."

                                            > He holds the tablet up from before, and you focus your sight on it.

                                            > Instantly, details about its contents are made known to you as they flash and scroll through your peripheral vision.


                                            "Wow."  Is all you could say.

                                            > "Yep.  You got the good stuff.  On top of faster buffer times and better encryption, you can now ping all types of machinery to see the profiles of moving objects through walls."

                                            > "An attribute that will serve you well for your next mission."  Tempest adds.

                                            > "As long as you don't get too disoriented while doing it.  But I'm sure you'll get the hang of it with a little practice."

                                            > "Thanks again, Cranky.  Your fee."

                                            > Both of their eyes glow as the wireless transaction processes.

                                            > "Don't be such a stranger, Tempest.  Come out of those shadows once in a while."

                                            > "Only if I need to, Cranky.  Until next time."

                                            > You try to pop up out of your seat only for a flash of pain causes you to fall to the floor.

                                            > "What'd I tell you?  Don't make any sudden movements, or else you'll feel a lot more than some discomfort."

                                            "You didn't mention that."

                                            > "It was implied.  You don't just walk-off a migraine kid."

                                            > "Well, he's going to have to.  Come."  Tempest says.

                                            "Right behind you."

                                            > You steadily find your footing and take a deep breath as you rise to your feet.  Slowly, you make your way to the door, following Tempest outside.

                                            > Unfortunately for you, the sun was out in full force today, which made looking at anything without feeling a pang of anguish extremely difficult.  You reach into one of the chest pockets in your jacket and pull out a pair of shades and throw them on.

                                            > "You better shape up, soldier.  I can't have you lagging behind when there's work to be done."

                                            "Yes, ma'am."

                                            > "The gun store where your new iron awaits is a few blocks from here.  We're going to hoof it; because despite Cranky saying you can't walk off a migraine, the fresh air should help clear your mind.  Is that clear?"

                                            "Crystal."

                                            > The journey there was more arduous than you were anticipating.  You appropriate a bottle of water from a food stand while en route and chugged the whole thing in a matter of seconds.


                                            > By the time you reached your destination, the persistent agony had subsided to a dull roar.

                                            > Upon entering, you B-line straight for the firing range in the back without saying a word to anyone.  Once the sounds of gunfire began ringing out, the misery you thought had left came back anew.

                                            > You didn't normally do this, but you grabbed a pair of sound-dampening headphones as you followed her to the end of the room.

                                            > On the table waiting for you sat a large case, which Tempest then proceeded to open.

                                            > "Your new rifle.  I expect you to master it quickly."  She says as she hands it to you.

                                            > You weren't sure what you were expecting when you came here, but it sure as hell wasn't this.

                                            > The weapon was a Tsunami Nekomata.  A commodity rarely seen on the streets and even scarcer in this high quality.  Nicknamed, Breakthrough.  For its ability to penetrate just about anything.

                                            > Titanium, child's play.  Three feet of concrete, like it, wasn't even there.  The only drawback was, in order to fire off bullets of that magnitude, it required a few seconds to charge each shot.

                                            > "I know you prefer power weapons that can ricochet bullets off of surfaces, but after last night's scuffle, it became obvious that you required something more.  Direct."

                                            > As you continue to inspect every inch of the gun, you notice the scope is also of high quality; a military-grade sight with night vision.

                                            "How in the hell did you manage to get something like this."

                                            > "I called in a few favors, but enough talk show me that you are worthy of carrying such a weapon."

                                            > After checking the ammo and safety, you stood firm, aiming downrange at your target.

                                            > You start by unloading a few uncharged slugs to get a feel for the rifle's weight.  It was more well-balanced than the SPT32 GRAD you were used to firing, which had a much heavier base.

                                            > To compensate, you would anchor yourself and aim a touch high to accommodate for this.


                                            > The first four rounds unsurprisingly reflected that assessment.  Landing, a few centimeters high of the target's head.

                                            > You reload a new clip, and instead of making a physical adjustment, you turn a knob on your scope to offset your innate tendency.

                                            > You empty another magazine, only this time, you were able to bunch all four shots in the head of the wooden cutout.

                                            > "Better.  But you still haven't fired a charge shot.  That's what you need to test."

                                            > After another reload, you steady yourself as you slowly pull back on the trigger.  You could feel the electricity buildup as the gun tried to shake out of your hands.

                                            > A bar at the bottom of your scope indicated you had reached maximum power, and with all the strength you could muster, held the gun steady as you released its full power.

                                            > A little to the left, but still a headshot.  Not surprising, considering your target was only fifty meters away.

                                            > "Oh.  I suppose I should have expected that.  Come.  You'll have to get more practice elsewhere."

                                            > What was she talking about?

                                            > It wasn't until you lowered your firearm did you realize that the tungsten round you fired didn't just pierce the target but also the back wall.  And likely, several walls behind that.

                                            > With your new eyes, you try and ascertain if anyone got hurt, and thankfully from what you can tell, you didn't hit anyone.

                                            > Regardless, you quickly pack the new iron away and rush to catch up with your mother.

                                            > "Not exactly how I pictured we'd finish conducting our business, but it'll have to do."

                                            "So, what now?"

                                            > "You have an assignment to complete, and I must return to leading the troops.  I've already spent more time with you than is necessary."

                                            "We still on for training later tonight?"

                                            > "Of course.  Did I say we weren't?"

                                            "No, just checking."

                                            > "Very well.  I'll leave you to it then."

                                            > Without a word, her bike appears and drives itself to the curb beside you, where she grabs her helmet and puts it on.


                                            "Wait!"  You say without thinking.

                                            > "What is it?"

                                            > There were more things you wanted to say and talk about, but you knew if you weren't concise enough she would just peel out and leave you in the dust.

                                            > So, you quickly click your heels together and offer her a salute.

                                            "Thank you, sir!"

                                            > She responds with a short chuckle.

                                            > "Don't thank me yet, soldier.  If I hear you aren't making full use of the tech I won't hesitate to take it away from you.  Now, at ease."

                                            > With that, she revved her engine and drove off.


                                            > One of these days, you think to yourself.  One of these days, she'll learn not to wear herself so thin.  To appreciate the people and things around her, but until that day, there was work to be done.

                                            > It was still early afternoon, which meant that your 'work' hours were still a ways away.  With your new gear in hand, you decide to pick up your car from the shop and pay your buddies a visit.


                                            > On the east side of town, there was a market place in the heart of your territory.  Filled with food vendors, pachinko parlors, back-alley joytoys, junk salesman, and everything in-between.

                                            > You make your way to a particular backstreet and knock three times on one of the doors.

                                            > "Who is it?"  A young voice answers.

                                            "Rumble, it's Anon.  Your brother home?"

                                            > The door opens, and a teenage kid stands in the doorway.

                                            > "He's downstairs playing Poker.  I'll let him know you're here."

                                            "Don't trouble yourself.  I'm not here about work."  Which was partially a lie.

                                            "I'm just here to hang out.  Can I come in?"

                                            > "Okay."

                                            > He lets you in, and you saunter down the stairs where a thin haze lingered in the air.  Sitting at a table were four men smoking and drinking as they shuffled around cards and cash.

                                            > They seemed to be having a good time, that is until they saw you.

                                            > "Welp, pack it up, boys.  Doctor Killjoy is here."

                                            "Don't act so happy to see me, Thunderlane.  I'm here to kill time not to chew you out."

                                            > "Damn!  That's a first.  What's the occasion?"

                                            "Can't a guy drop by and say hi to his friends every now and again?"

                                            > "Riiiight."

                                            "Fine.  I do want to talk about work, but that can wait."

                                            > "You see."  He says as he wags his finger at you.

                                            > "This guy.  Always so serious."

                                            "Shut up and deal me in."  You say as you pull up a chair.

                                            > "Yeah, boy.  Get ready to lose your eddies cuz I'm on a hot streak."


                                            > You play for half an hour as Thunderlane and his buddies do most of the talking.  Having given up going to school, you never properly learned how to socialize with people your age.

                                            > It wasn't the worst thing in the world, but it did garner you a reputation as a stiff.  Your mother always told you that trust was the most valuable thing you could gain on the street.  You argued respect was more important, but she countered by telling you respect was nothing without trust.

                                            > As a former officer in the army, she cited that even the most well-trained unit crumbles under the command of a leader with no empathy.

                                            > The irony of her saying that was not lost on you.  Based on how she treated you.  Maybe you were the exception, or perhaps she secretly cared and was just too afraid to show it.

                                            > "So, Anon.  You up for picking up some Joytoys after this?"

                                            "Not really my thing.  Besides, I'm on an assignment from the boss."

                                            > "Dude, aren't you always?  You're going to be dead before you even get the chance to enjoy the finer things in life."

                                            "Even if I did, where would we take them?  To a cheap motel that you can't afford, or did you really plan on bringing a bunch of outputs here to get it on while your brother is here."

                                            > "The way your losing money, I could afford to bring him along and pay extra to get his cherry popped."

                                            "Is that what he wants?"

                                            > "He'd still be living with our folks if he didn't.  Do you know what they told me?  They said that he wanted to be cool, just like his big brother.  As soon as I heard that, I swept him up and never looked back."

                                            "And yet, I get the feeling you treat him more like a maid than a brother."

                                            > "Hey, he's too young to start going on patrols yet, so he's got to pull his weight around here another way.  And if that means he's got to do dishes and clean the toilets, then that's how it's got to be."


                                            "Has he ever held a gun?"

                                            > "Dude."  He says while shaking his head.

                                            > "I hate to be that guy, but you are killing the mood here.  If I wanted someone to question every decision I made, I'd call my mom."

                                            "Sorry.  Forget I said anything."

                                            > "Speaking of.  You ever gonna tell me why you came here?"

                                            "You just said I was killing the mood.  Why are you bringing this up now?"

                                            > "Just answer the damn question."

                                            "Have it your way.  The task I mentioned earlier.  I need to find an illegal Braindance."

                                            > "Sounds easy enough.  What's it for?"

                                            "You may have heard, but the botched operation yesterday wasn't for nothing.  The Hivemind made off with the spoils and tried to fake their deaths.  Thankfully, we anticipated this and now know where they are hiding it."

                                            > "So what's the BD for?"

                                            "The BD is supposed to be a token offering for our 'failure'."

                                            > "Okay.  And why are you doing that instead of just stealing it?"

                                            "It's located in their base underground in an abandoned commercial building.  We can't just drive by, blow away the guards, and make off with the goods."

                                            > "Damn.  Is the gear even worth all that trouble then?

                                            "Honestly, I don't know.  But those are the boss's orders."

                                            > "Bro, I get that we're supposed to follow orders, but she's your mom.  You can't bend yourself over backward every time she tells you to do something.  Look at me.  You think my mom tells me what to do with my life?"

                                            "That's because your mother isn't the leader of a violent gang."

                                            > "That's beside the point.  You're not a robot."

                                            > "At least I don't think."  He retorts.

                                            > "You don't even know what you're putting your life on the line for.  Now, don't get me wrong, if you said we were going to spraypaint some Phantom Bloods with led, I'd be all for it."

                                            > "But the fact that you're midair before your mom even says jump makes you a bitch, and ain't nobody ever done nothing for a bitch."


                                            > You stare long and hard at him.  He was right, and a small part of you wanted to punch his teeth in for saying it.  But you knew that moment of satisfaction would be faint and fleeting.

                                            "So, what do you suggest I do?  Tell the boss I'm not on board unless I get some respect?"

                                            > "I'm not saying all that.  I'm just saying don't be a bitch."

                                            "Gee, thanks."

                                            > You should have known better than to expect any wisdom from Thunderlane.  Still, if he had enough sense to point it out, then everyone else could too.

                                            > You leave sometime later with more questions than answers.  With no real direction, you casually stroll the city streets.   The night was fast approaching as businesses began turning on their neon signs.

                                            > Normally, this would be the beginning of your 'work' hours, but today was a little different.

                                            > The fact that you had heard so little about Braindances in your area meant you were going to have to venture into enemy territory to find what you needed, and you knew just where to go.

                                            > The Silent Serenade, a strip club, in the Siren's territory.  You didn't have any particular beef with their group, but you harbored no love for them either.  For the most part, they left you alone and vice versa.

                                            > You approach the establishment but are stopped by their bouncers.

                                            > "Not so fast, sweetie.  You armed?"

                                            "Is that a trick question?"

                                            > "Nobody gets in while packing iron.  Around here, you leave your troubles at the door."

                                            "Are you saying nobody has ever caused trouble here?"

                                            > "Nothing our security system couldn't handle.  So, are you packing?"

                                            "Of course I am, but I'm not giving up my guns to you."

                                            > "Then you don't get in, tough guy."

                                            "Is it customary to turn away a paying customer?"

                                            > "Don't try to play me, darling, I've heard it all before.  Either pony up or get lost."


                                            "Fine.  Where do you want them?"

                                            > "This way."

                                            > You do as you're told, and walk inside where you place all your weapons on the receptionist's desk.

                                            > The chick hassling you lets out an impressed whistle when you pull out the Nekomata.

                                            > "Who'd you have to kill to get that?"

                                            "If you want to know, it'll cost you."

                                            > She simply lets out a disgusted scoff before turning to leave.

                                            > A shame.  You were hoping to get some free information, but it doesn't appear it'll be that easy.

                                            > As you enter the building proper, your ears are assaulted by a variety of hypnotic sounds.  A slow and deep bass that felt like it was in sync with your heart and an overarching beat that fluctuated with the flashing lights.

                                            > The sights and sounds were mesmerizing, but you remained alert and focused.

                                            > You approach the bar first and pull up a seat before the bartender takes notice of you.

                                            > "What'll you have?"

                                            "Looking for some liquid truth.  Do you know where I could find some of that?"

                                            > As you say this, you wirelessly transfer a few Eddies his way.  Causing him to nod softly.

                                            > "I think I might.  Go to booth two in the back.  I think you'll find what you're looking for."

                                            "Thanks."

                                            > The room in question had a single stripper pole and large table with a cushioned sofa wrapped around it.  You sit around and wait for a few minutes before somebody else enters.

                                            > "Hi there!  Ready to have a good time?"

                                            "Always."

                                            > "Me too."

                                            > The blue haired girl jumps on the pole and begins swinging around like she didn't have a care in the world.  She was dressed much more provocatively then the other girls leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

                                            > "Haven't seen you here before.  Is it your first time?"

                                            "Here, yes."

                                            > "Oh lucky me.  Don't worry, handsome.  I'll make sure you have the time of your life."


                                            > Something was off.  This chick didn't seem like the person you were waiting for.

                                            "Did the barkeep send you?"

                                            > "Sure did.  Why?  Were you expecting someone else?"

                                            "What did he tell you?"

                                            > "That a guest in booth two was looking for some inflation."

                                            "Inflation?  Are you sure he didn't say information?"

                                            > She stops dancing and gives a confused look.

                                            > "Oh, that would make more sense.  Is that what you wanted?"

                                            "Yes.  Wait, what did you think he meant by inflation?"

                                            > "I thought you wanted me to get an air pump and-"

                                            "STOP!  Forget I asked.  Information, do you have it?"

                                            > "Weeeell."  She trailed off.

                                            > "My sister told me never to say anything until I see the money first."

                                            "Does your boss tell you that too?"

                                            > "She is my boss."

                                            "Well, I've already given the barkeep a tip.  That's at least earned me a minute with her."

                                            > "You're right.  That seems fair, follow me then."

                                            > You get up and follow her to the back room, where she presses a secret button underneath the make-up table.  Doing so reveals a fake wall with an elevator behind it.

                                            > The two of you get in and take a short ride down.  Once at the bottom, you both pass a server room before entering a makeshift office filled with monitors and speakers.

                                            > "Dagi!  I brought someone here to see you."

                                            > "Not now, Sonata.  I'm busy.  Tell them to come back later."

                                            "You don't look that busy."

                                            > A small woman sitting in a chair spins on a dime after hearing your voice.

                                            > Her eyes widen, and she reaches for something.

                                            > "Get away from him!"

                                            > Before she could react, you pull the blue temptress beside you into a headlock and swing her body in front of you like a shield.  Anticipating a gun or a turret to come out, but it didn't.


                                            > Instead, the speakers blasted ultrasonic sound waves directly at you, causing your head to shake.

                                            > You tried your best to stand firm, but after what seemed like minutes, your strength gave way under the crushing pressure.  You let the girl go and crumple to the floor with your hands over your ears.

                                            > However, the roar didn't die down seemingly at all when you did so.  The sound was trapped inside your head, and you were powerless to get it out.

                                            > You look up to see your tormentor looming over you, pistol in hand.

                                            > She aimed and fired.

                                            > At that moment, you recoiled.  Bracing yourself against the attack.

                                            ...

                                            > It never came.  Still crippled by the noise, you steal a glance to see the two of them wrestling over the gun; unaffected by the blaring speakers.

                                            > Picking yourself up, you crawl to the desk and look for a shutoff switch.  You only looked for a few seconds before giving up and pulling out one of your signature EMP disrupters.

                                            > You slap it onto the primary tower and are rewarded with a deafening silence.

                                            > Collapsing onto the floor, you try and collect yourself.  You felt like shit.  The room was spinning as every part of your body screamed in agony.

                                            > You roll onto your side and throw-up onto the floor.  Your equilibrium was shot.  You tried and failed to stand up, and as you did so, saw blood on the floor.

                                            >  Reaching to your ear, you confirm the source and grunt in frustration.

                                            > "Take it easy.  You're safe now."  A soothing voice told you as she rubbed your back.

                                            > You were barely able to hear her as you began to reboot your systems.

                                            > Diagnostics indicated that several vital components were damaged.  Not that you were surprised.

                                            > "Dagi, could you get him some water."

                                            > "That son of a bitch fried my setup.  Do you know how much money it'll take to replace that?"

                                            > "That was your fault!  You nearly killed him.  Show some compassion for once!"


                                            > "Sonata, he's a hired killer.  For the Black Shadows, no less.  Men like him don't deserve remorse."

                                            > "You're wrong.  He didn't make any passes at me on the way down here, and he never tried to kill you.  Compared to the people we see every day, he's a saint.  You should at least hear what he has to say."

                                            > "You're too soft, Sonata.  Some day, he could come after us, and what would we do then?"

                                            > "Then I guess I'll die!"

                                            > "Sis, you can't live your life in constant fear.  Worrying if you can go outside or if it's safe to walk around the corner.  That's no way to live."

                                            > The two of them lock eyes and say nothing while you gradually pick yourself up off the floor.

                                            > Then, Adagio lets out a defeated sigh.

                                            > "I can't believe I'm saying this, but you're right.  If he was here to kill me I would have been dead already."

                                            "Glad we're on the same page.  Now, about that glass of water?"

                                            > "Seriously?"

                                            > You stare her down as you lean on her desk for support.

                                            > "Fine."

                                            > She exits the room to honor your request when that uneasy feeling in your stomach resurfaces.  You tense up to fight the urge, causing you to belch instead.

                                            > "Are you okay."

                                            "No, I'm pretty fucking far from okay."

                                            > "Here, you should sit down."

                                            > You lean on her as she helps you to the netrunning chair in the corner.

                                            > "Dagi's been pretty on edge lately.  So, please forgive her for what she did."

                                            "Bitch nearly iced me."

                                            > "I know.  When she gets back, I'll make sure she makes it up to you."

                                            > When she does, she hands you a bottle of tequila.  You sniff it and smell the lingering aroma of what was originally inside.  Better than nothing, you suppose.

                                            > "My sister mentioned you wanted to see me.  Well, let's hear it."

                                            > "DAGI!"

                                            > "What?"

                                            > "You're not even going to apologize for trying to kill him?"


                                            > "He brushes up against death every day.  This should be nothing to him."

                                            > "That doesn't excuse-"

                                            "Sonata!  It's fine.  She's right.  If circumstances were different, I would have killed her, but I'm feeling generous today."

                                            > "Thank you.  Now, I assume you'd like to do business?"

                                            "I would.  I'm interested in finding an illegal Braindance.  Know where I might be able to find one."

                                            > "I did.  Until you trashed my gear."

                                            "Oh, cry me a river.  You've got to have back-ups for important shit, so don't try to con me out of a few eddies.  Besides, we'll call it even after you tried to kill me unprovoked."

                                            > "I could still kill you, you know."  She says while raising her gun.

                                            "At this distance?  You couldn't even hit me at point-blank range.  Do you really think a second-rate joytoy like you could hit me?  "Ha!  You'd be better off using the full auto."

                                            > Her grip tightens around the pistol as her hand shakes with anger.

                                            > Just as you thought she was about to pull the trigger, Sonata steps in front of you.

                                            > "Stop!  Anon, no more mean talking."

                                            "Sorry, Sonata.  Couldn't help myself."

                                            > "I hope you're half as good at shooting as you are at running your mouth; because I just thought of a task you can do for me."

                                            "And what's that?"

                                            > "I'm willing to give you a top-shelf braindance if you can find one of my girls and bring her back here safe and sound."

                                            "Is that so?  And where is she at?"

                                            > "I don't know.  Last I knew, she was on the north side looking for recruits."

                                            "You lost her in Watson?  How long ago?"

                                            > "Three days."

                                            "You'd best give up on her then she's probably dead."

                                            > "You don't know that.  She's one of my best, and I'm not going to give up on her that easy."

                                            > "Adagio, you didn't tell me Aria was missing!?"

                                            > "I didn't tell you; because all you'd do is worry about her.  It's bad enough my number two is missing.  I don't need you having a panic attack on top of that."


                                            > "I'M NOT PANICKING YOU'RE PANICKING.  HOW COULD YOU LET THIS HAPPEN!?  I THOUGHT YOU TRUSTED ME!  WHY IS THE ROOM SPINNING!?  HAVE YOU ALWAYS HAD WHITE HAIR!  WHY CAN'T I-"

                                            > She immediately faints as she falls over like a sack of bricks.

                                            > "Well, at least now she'll be quiet.  But she's going to be such a headache when she wakes up."

                                            "That's family for you."

                                            > "True.  So then, about our deal?"

                                            "One last thing.  I nearly died from your boomboxes of death, but you two seemed totally unaffected.  How is that possible?"

                                            > "Everyone who works here has sonic dampeners installed to cut off all sound if a certain decibel is reached.  It's much more effective than machine guns, and it keeps things a lot cleaner if someone starts making a scene.  Not to mention it's also cheaper."

                                            "You don't say.  Well, regardless, I should be able to find your girl, or at least what's left of her."

                                            > "I'm not giving you anything if she's dead.  I want her alive and well, or the deal's off."

                                            "That's asking an awful lot for someone who's been lost in prime scavenger territory."

                                            > "It's a great deal.  If you do this, you'll be up to your neck in eddies, and all you have to do is find one girl."

                                            > She was right about one thing the task was simple but far from in your favor.  The likelihood of success was slim, and the danger was high.  Just another day at the office, you suppose.  You considered declining her offer and looking elsewhere; however, how long would that take?

                                            > The more time you wasted, the more you put the operation on the Hivemind's base in jeopardy.

                                            "It's a deal.  Just give me her profile, and I'll be out of your hair."

                                            > "Here's everything you need to know.  You find out anything I want to be the first to hear about it."

                                            "Will do."

                                            > "Good.  Now, get out."

                                            > You get up and place Sonata in the chair you were sitting in before leaving.  After picking up your gear, you walk outside to make a call.

                                            > "Hey, kid.  How are things?"

                                            "Grubber, I want you to start running searches for an Aria Blaze.  Sending the dets your way."

                                            > "Okay, what am I looking for?"

                                            "Find out where she was last seen.  I have it on good authority that it was somewhere in Watson three days ago."

                                            > "If you want me to do that, I'm going to have to crack into the city's databanks to access camera footage."

                                            "Can you do it?"


                                            > "Sure.  It'll take some time, but the main issue is I have to know if this is important to the operation.  Tempest would kill me if she found out I was wasting my time helping you with errands.  Plus, I don't want to exert myself if I don't have to.  In a matter of speaking."

                                            "Do you really think I'd call you if I wasn't working?"

                                            > "No, but that doesn't mean you can't call just to talk.  I mean, we barely know each other."

                                            "From what my mother has said, it's more like I don't know anything about you."

                                            > "Yeaaaaah.  She's not wrong.  Still, it couldn't hurt to get to know your new partner, right?"  He says hopingly.

                                            ...

                                            "Are you going to run a search or not?"

                                            > "Man, you are just like your mom.  But yeah, I can do some digging.  I'll call you later once I've got something."

                                            "Roger that."

                                            > You hang up and immediately hail your old clunker to your location.


                                            > 1 hour later


                                            > Finding a convenient store near the bay, you park under a street lamp on the side of the road and get out.

                                            > From what Grubber told you, Aria was last seen entering a cheap motel called the Shoreleave Reprieve.  A favorite of dockworkers, in need of an inconspicuous place for a one-night stand, and secluded enough for wealthy tourists to talk business in private.

                                            > As you enter, the only soul to be found inside was a woman sitting in a chair with her feet up watching T.V.

                                            > She doesn't notice you come in, so you fake clearing your throat to get her attention.

                                            > "Can I help you?"  She says without looking up.

                                            "I'm looking for an Aria Blaze.  I believe she checked into this motel a few days ago and was hoping you could help me find her."

                                            > "Not my job to remember names or faces.  If you want a room, it'll be 200 for the night."

                                            "She's missing, and the last place she was seen was at this motel, and I think you know what happens when people disappear around here."


                                            > "As I said, I don't get paid to ask questions or remember people.  'Leave your troubles at the shore.'  Here, at the Shoreleave Reprieve."

                                            > This is getting you nowhere.  If you're going to learn anything, it appears you're going to have to take the 'direct approach.'

                                            "Sure seems peaceful and quiet around here.  It would be a shame if someone filed a missing person's report.  Making other people's lives even more miserable than they already are.  As they had to deal with the cops tearing their place apart looking for clues and compromising their business."

                                            > The receptionist gives you an upset glare, which leaves you unphased.

                                            > "Here's the manifest.  Now, leave me alone."

                                            "Thank you."

                                            > You scroll three days back but don't see an Aria Blaze.  She must have used an alias to cover her tracks.  Pretty much every name you see is some type of alias.

                                            > Powertank Frank.

                                            > Jake the Snake.

                                            > Go Fuck Yourself.

                                            > Wow, they must be pleasant.

                                            > Unfortunately, nothing jumps out to you as a possible clue.  Considering you know almost nothing about her doesn't help the fact.

                                            > You'd rather not waste your time going from room to room, so you decide to give Adagio a ring instead.

                                            > "That was fast.  You have something?"

                                            "I'm at a motel near the docks where Aria was last seen, by surveillance footage.  I have a list of names, but none of them are hers.  Does she have a code name or phrase that she uses?"

                                            > "Sonata once referred to her as the Purple Panther, but otherwise, we don't have a need for those."

                                            "Well, that name's not on here."

                                            > "Why don't you just go down the list.  I should be able to tell you which one is her."

                                            "Sounds good."

                                            "Rick Astley."

                                            "Edgerunner Ted."

                                            "My Left Nut."

                                            "Double Barrel Darrel."

                                            "Go Fuck Yourself."

                                            > "That one."

                                            "Really?"  You say, perplexed.


                                            > "Aria's not one to fuck around, which makes her very abrasive in our line of work."

                                            "Okay, she checked into room 201.  I'll give it the once over and report back."

                                            > "I'll be waiting."

                                            > You look over; however, and see a sliding metal door blocking the hallway to the motel proper.  You don't even bother to ask.

                                            > Using both hands, you rip the door open with enough force to crush the metal frame.

                                            > "Hey!  You better pay for that."

                                            > You walk past a handyman who was working on a vending machine until you started making a ruckus.

                                            "Fix that for me, will you."

                                            > Making your way upstairs you reach the room in question and notice a 'Do Not Disturb' sign placed on the door.

                                            > You put your ear up to it and hear the moans and groans of two people getting it on.

                                            > This isn't going to be fun, but you kick the door down anyway with your gun drawn.

                                            "Don't move."

                                            > "What the hell!  Get out!"  The input shouted.

                                            > You fire a warning shot close enough that both of them could hear the bullet wiz past their heads.

                                            "I said don't move!  If you do, the next one's going between your eyes.  Now, answer me this."  Do either of you know an Aria Blaze?"

                                            > "No."  They both answer.

                                            "She's an output that looks like this."  You say as you send them the photo.

                                            "Ever seen her before?"

                                            > "No, never."  They answer again.

                                            > You figured as much, but it was worth a try.

                                            "Alright, I need to have a look around.  You two can either continue what you were doing, or you can wait out in the lobby it's your choice."

                                            > They look at each other and pick up their clothes before unceremoniously walking out the door.

                                            > With that taken care of, you holster your weapon and get to work.

                                            > After several minutes of extensive searching, you turn up no evidence that Aria was ever here.  If you didn't find anything, you'd be back to square one.  At that point, your only option would be to go door to door, and you'd never find her that way.

                                            > Then, you're suddenly hit with a realization.  You recently acquired some expensive tech that allowed you to see through walls.


                                            > A quick scan later indicated that there was some type of listening device installed, inside the wall, behind the nightstand.

                                            > If the motel was keeping tabs on its customers, then there should be a backroom where they monitor it all.

                                            > You go back downstairs and tell the couple they can have their room back before you confront the woman at the desk again.

                                            "Who oversees what goes on in the rooms?"

                                            > "I have no idea what you're talking about."

                                            > You pull out your Glock and aim right at her head.

                                            "Bitch, I am not in the mood for playing!  You either fess up or eat lead.  I'm giving you ten seconds!"

                                            > She puts her hands up and begins pleading.

                                            > "I swear.  I just do what I'm told.  I know the money's too good for what I do, but as long as I don't ask questions, no one bothers me."

                                            "Then you better spill your guts before I spill them for you."

                                            > "I-I-"

                                            > Her sight, which was solely fixated on you, darts to something on your right.

                                            > You quickly dive to your left and immediately shoot at the doorway behind you.

                                            > Standing there was the mechanic from before holding a pistol with a silencer attached.  He pulls the trigger and fires a shot where you were previously standing.

                                            > You return fire as you slid along the ground.  Pumping several shots into him as he crumpled to the ground, dead.

                                            > You get up and rush over to his side to give him a quick double-tap.

                                            "Do what your told, huh?  By this guy?"

                                            > "No, my boss works out of office.  He usually only keeps two of his people here at a time.

                                            "Two.  Then, where's the other one?"

                                            > "He's probably downstairs.  There's a secret tunnel behind the vending machine that leads downstairs."

                                            "Alright, stay here, or I'll blow you away."

                                            > "OKAY!"

                                            > In one swift motion, you throw the contraption off its foundation to reveal the hidden entrance.  The tunnel had a staircase that lead to an open doorway.  After all the ruckus you made, whoever was down there would surely be expecting you.


                                            > In that case, you pull out a smoke grenade and toss it into the room.  After it goes off, a fully automatic weapon begins spraying into the fog.

                                            > By the sound, you could tell it was a rifle, a D-5 Copperhead, modified to shoot faster than a typical submachine gun.  By getting a rough count of the bullets fired, you time your jump down the stairs just as he empties his clip.

                                            > You rush through the white haze and locate the scumbag as he's reloading.

                                            > You fire a single shot that knocks the weapon out of his hands.

                                            "Turn around and face the wall."

                                            > He slowly puts his hands up and begins backing away from you.

                                            > You fire another shot that blows his right-hand clean off, making him scream out in pain.

                                            "NOW!"

                                            > He turns around while grasping the wrist of his missing hand.

                                            "Where is Aria Blaze!?"

                                            > "Never heard of her."

                                            > You bash your pistol into the back of his head.  Causing him to kiss the pavement hard.

                                            "You better tell me if you want to live."

                                            > "You're in over your head, kid.  My buddies are on there way.  They'll be here in minutes, and then you'll be sorry."

                                            > You grab his left arm and step on his shoulder-blade.  With a quick clean jerk, you rip his whole arm out of his socket.  Making him scream even louder.

                                            "Which means there's no one here to save you now.  Meaning, I have enough time to completely dismember you, among other things, or you could tell me what I want to know."

                                            > "We took her to our warehouse.  Eight blocks from here on Black Iron Road."

                                            > With the information obtained, you pop him in the back of the head and rush back up the stairs to see the girl still standing behind the desk.

                                            "It's time for you to skip town.  If you don't, I'll end your life right here."

                                            > "I won't say anything, I promise."

                                            "You will.  Whether you want to believe it or not.  I just need you out of the picture for the next twenty-four hours.  Can you do that?"

                                            > "YES!"

                                            > She quickly hops the desk and flies out the front door.  You better make yourself scarce as well.


                                            > Making your way out the back, you look up and fire your magnetic grapple hook to the top of the fire escape and whisk yourself to the rooftops.  After putting some distance between the building and yourself, you find a spot to observe the motel unseen.

                                            > Not a minute after you reached your perch did several cars begin flooding the street.  You quickly took stock of the vehicles that showed up by cataloging all the makes and models, as well as their ID numbers.

                                            > But, more importantly than that, you scanned each face that appeared during the commotion.

                                            > They were all wanted men, unsurprisingly.  You could have taken them out, but their bounties didn't warrant the effort.  Besides, your job wasn't yet complete.

                                            > Once you were back in your car, you began driving aimlessly, as you made a call to Adagio.

                                            > "Hey, what did you find?"

                                            "I know where she's being kept.  It's a warehouse on Black Iron Road."

                                            > "Thank god.  I was beginning to reach my wit's end, and Sonata isn't helping at all."

                                            "Hold up, there's more.  I had to shoot up the motel I was just at to get that answer, so the likelihood that they'll tighten their security is high."

                                            > "If they think their operation is compromised, they'll scrub the site.  We have to move now!"

                                            "Calm down.  I bought us some time.  There's only one person who can tell them what really happened, and it'll be a while before they find her.  But you're right we still have to stage a rescue by the end of the night."

                                            > "Okay.  I'll make my way over there now.  I don't have much in terms of soldiers, but I can round up some people."

                                            "I have a better idea.  Why don't you let me and my people do the heavy lifting."

                                            > "Why?  What are you going to ask for in return?"

                                            "This mission is more than likely going to be a bloodbath, so in exchange for sacrificing my people, I want that BD regardless of how we find Aria."

                                            > A long silence follows your exchange as Adagio contemplates your offer.

                                            "I also have a list of scavengers and their vehicles that I can throw in as well, free of charge."

                                            > "Fine.  I'll take the deal, but promise me one thing.  That you'll kill every single one of those animals."

                                            "Wouldn't have it any other way."

                                            > "Then, I'll be here waiting."

                                            > And with that, the call ends.  Allowing you to start planning.


                                            > It was late into the night by the time Thunderlane and his crew rolled up.  Three pickups, one of which he was sitting in the passenger seat of with six other guys in the back.

                                            > "Is this where the party's at?"

                                            "No, it's just up the road.  Let me give you guys the run down before we head in."

                                            > "Alright boys, listen up!"

                                            "Tonight, we'll be hitting a scavenger base.  The objective is to find this woman, Aria Blaze.  I took the liberty of scouting the exterior and found their defenses to be minimal; however, there's no telling what we'll find once inside."

                                            "We'll begin the attack once I neutralize the two guards at the gate.  After that, the convoy will storm the main garage door, and we'll fight our way from there.  The target, if she's still alive, will more than likely be held in the basement."

                                            "Once the asset is clear, lieutenant Thunderlane will take command of the operation.  From there, I assume you will be free to do or take anything you want."

                                            > "Damn straight."

                                            "Until then, you are to remain focused.  Do that, and we'll all be sporting some shiny new chrome by the end of the night.  Is that clear?"

                                            > "YEAH!"  The men shout.

                                            "Then, let's get to work."


                                            > The night air grew eerily still as you sat atop a nearby roof, giving the warehouse the once over.  Everything was set, and you were ready.

                                            > "Thirty seconds out.  Awaiting orders."  Thunderlane said over the comms.

                                            > The cavalry rounded the street corner and were now a few hundred feet away from the complex.  All three vehicles were driving at normal speeds, as to not alert the enemy.

                                            "Gun it."

                                            > As you say that, you fire off your first round, and then a second just as the first truck breaks through the front gate.  From inside the building, people begin spilling out from all sides as gunfire flew in all directions.

                                            > You pick off a few scavs as Thunderlane and his buddies begin to make their way inside.  After reloading, you swing your way over and quietly enter through a skylight.

                                            > With the thugs distracted, you swoop in from behind and kill those shooting from the catwalk.  With the high ground secured, you flush out the stragglers cornered around the stairs and finish them off one by one.

                                            "Hold position!"  You yell as you whip yourself over to the staircase.

                                            > "Anon, buddy.  You know I always take point."  Thunderlane retorts.

                                            "Give me a second to scout ahead with my new eyes."

                                            > "New eyes?  You sporting some new chrome, and you didn't even tell me?"

                                            > You ignore him as you ping-pong signals from various machines to get a general layout of the floor below you.

                                            "I count at least six left.  Three, waiting for us at the bottom, two on the left side in what looks like a control room, and the last one is too far away to tell.  They're in the far most room to the right."


                                            > "So what's the play?"

                                            "You go right I'll go left."

                                            > "That's it?"

                                            "Would you rather I take a minute to think it over?"

                                            > "Not really."

                                            "Then, what's the problem?"

                                            > He gives you a playful smirk as he cocks his shotgun.

                                            > Rounding up the others, you gradually tiptoe down the steps as your team gets into position.  Thunderlane signals to one of his buddies, who pulls out a flashbang grenade.

                                            > He pulls the pin but waits a few seconds before throwing it.  The container doesn't even hit the ground before it goes off.  Charging ahead, you mow down the first group of assailants as bullets nearly miss you.

                                            > You kick down the first door you see with dual pistols drawn and take out two men hovering over a computer.  Whatever they were doing, it had to be important.

                                            "Cover me."  You say to the men following you.

                                            > Holstering your weapons, you begin tapping away at the keyboard to find out what it was.

                                            > What you find is a series of messages between an unknown source and the people you just killed.


                                            > 'Shots fired outside.  Too many to be a drive-by.  We're under attack.'

                                            > 'How many?  Who are they?'

                                            > 'Black Shadows.  Too many.  Base is being overrun.  Send backup.'

                                            > 'Negative.  Take what you can and get out.  We won't be able to reinforce you."

                                            > 'Are you kidding?  Do you have any idea the gold mine we're sitting on?'

                                            > "I do, and I don't care.  You can rebuild elsewhere, but not if you're dead.'

                                            > 'Acknowledged.  Sending data your way.'


                                            > Who were they talking to?  And what did they send them?  Unfortunately, you couldn't tell; because the access was restricted.

                                            > "Anon, think I found your girl.  You're going to want to get over here."  Thunderlane says.

                                            "On my way."

                                            > As you make your way to Thunderlane's location, you steel yourself for the worst, but nothing could have prepared you for what you saw.

                                            "Fucking hell."

                                            > The room more closely resembled a slaughterhouse than anything else.  People strung up on meathooks, naked and missing limbs, organs, and skin.  Their blood swirling down shower drains as they hung lifelessly.

                                            > Crates and freezers, lining the walls filled with their valuables. It's only then, do you notice Thunderlane off in a side room waiting for you.

                                            > The interior resembled that of any ordinary living room; expect, for the two lifeless bodies.  One of which was a scavenger that Thunderlane had killed, the other was Aria.  Or what was left of her.


                                            > She sat on the main couch propped up against the armrest, naked and unmoving.  Her arms and legs were missing, so all that remained was her head on a torso.  Her black mascara ran down her cheeks, having been ruined from tears but had long since dried.

                                            > The rest of her body was covered in various other fluids that you couldn't identify.  As well as a cable that dangled from the ceiling above her that had recently been removed.  Causing her eyes to blink uncontrollably.  She must have experienced an error upon being unplugged, or she was fighting some malicious software.

                                            > Your shock lasts several seconds before you snap back to reality to check on her.

                                            "She's got a pulse, but it's faint.  I NEED A MEDIC IN HERE!"

                                            > "You serious, man?  You already got the BD.  Why are you still trying to help this bitch?  Fucking look at her.  We'd be better off putting her out of her misery."

                                            "Put her out of h- I'm giving you an order!  Get me a medic!"

                                            > "You really think she's going to bounce back from what she's been through?  Killing her would be doing her a service."

                                            "I don't want to hear that!  I gave Adagio my word I'd bring her back alive, so you either get me a medic or leave.  I don't care which."

                                            > Finally, someone shows up and begins unloading his gear.

                                            > "She's going into cardiac arrest.  Whatever they did to her, they unplugged her too soon.  She needs a hard reset, or she's only going to get worse."

                                            "What do we need to do?"

                                            > "Someone needs to attach their personal link and manually shut her down.  From there, we can only pray."

                                            "Then do it."

                                            > He hesitates but doesn't say anything.

                                            "What's the problem?"

                                            > "I don't know what she's been loaded with.  If we're not careful, whatever she has could easily transfer to whoever connects with her."

                                            "For the love of God.  I'll fucking do it."

                                            > Pulling out your personal link from your wrist, you jack in and begin overriding her systems and executing a hard shut down.

                                            > A little static obscures your vision for a second, but you otherwise finish successfully.

                                            "Done."

                                            > "Good."

                                            > The man then pulls out a small metal patch that he attaches to her chest.  A pulse generator to keep her heart from stopping.

                                            > "That'll buy us some time, but she needs to see a Ripperdoc, now."

                                            "Then let's move.  Get one of the guys to start looking for her limbs."  You remark to Thunderlane.

                                            > You pick her up and cradle her head like a baby as you rush to the entrance.  Once outside, you put her into one of the vehicles and phone the only Ripperdoc that would see a patient like this.


                                            > "Kid, do you have any idea what time it is?"

                                            "It's time for you to wake up, Cranky.  I've got an emergency, and we're coming in hot."

                                            > "Okay, what's the diagnosis?"  He says, still trying to wake himself up.

                                            "You're up."  You say to your medic.

                                            > "She's been infected with some type of software.  Symptoms are rapid eye movement and an irregular heartbeat following cardiac arrest.  We induced a hard system reset and have her hooked up to a PG."

                                            > "Christ.  Sounds like you have a real mess on your hands.  Fine, I'll help you, but  I don't like surprise visits, so expect an extra-long bill after this."

                                            "That's fine.  Just be ready for us."

                                            > "Alright.  See you in a few."

                                            > As you hang up, you contemplate giving Adagio a ring as well but decided against it.  You don't know if Aria is going to make it, and you don't want to give her any added stress.

                                            > When you arrive, you go in through the back.  Even if the practice was closed, people would start asking questions if they saw what you were bringing in.

                                            > "What the hell is this?"  Cranky asks.

                                            "It's your patient.  My buddy here will be able to assist.  Now get to it."

                                            > Reluctantly, he begins putting on his surgical gloves.

                                            > "God, I hate this job."

                                            > Leaving them to it, you take a seat out in the waiting room and let out a heavy sigh.  You weren't aware of it, but the whole ordeal and left you physically and mentally exhausted.

                                            > They were going to be a while, so you decide to catch a few winks.


                                            > Sometime later, the sound of your phone disturbs your slumber.  It was your mother.

                                            "Anon here."

                                            > "Where are you?  It's time for our training regiment."

                                            > Looking at your internal clock, you kick yourself for not remembering.

                                            "Sorry, boss.  Got wrapped up in an op, and it took a lot out of me."

                                            > "So I heard.  Cranky called me when he was done operating on your little joytoy.  The price had better be worth the resources you wasted on her."

                                            > Wait, he's already done.  Given the time, you shouldn't be surprised, but why didn't he wake you?

                                            "Did she pull through?"

                                            > "You're still there, aren't you?  Why are you asking me?"

                                            > That's true.  You get up and head to the backroom to see Aria asleep on a patient's bed with all her appendages reattached.

                                            "Well, physically, she looks okay, but she was fighting something before we shut her down."

                                            > "Then, I'd ask Cranky about that.  He usually has a smoke in the back alley after a long surgery."

                                            "Great.  Oh, and by the way, do you mind if we skip tonight's session?  I promise to make up for it tomorrow."

                                            > "If you mean that, then yes."

                                            "Thanks, boss.  I should be able to pick up the BD we need by the end of the night."

                                            > "Once you do, we can begin planning the assault in earnest.  Until then."  (Click)


                                            "You think she's going to be alright?"  You ask Cranky.

                                            > "No way to know until she wakes up.  She had a doll chip installed.  That coupled with a neural network cable, and they could have done literally anything to her."

                                            "Well, even if she is messed up in the head, I still appreciate you doing what you did."

                                            > Cranky takes a big puff of his cigar before offering a rebuttal.

                                            > "You know, my wife was pretty pissed when I got your call.  Rightfully so, for waking us up at two in the morning.  But since your mother is footing the bill, I think she'll let it slide this time."

                                            "Give her my condolences.  I'll be sure not to make it a habit."

                                            > "You better.  I've already seen a lifetime's worth of shit, and I don't need you adding to it."

                                            "I can imagine."

                                            > "Your friend should be stable enough to move, by the way.  I'm not a foster home so take her before you leave."

                                            "Really?  She just had surgery."

                                            > "The hardest thing I did in that regard was put her back together.  Lucky for her, whatever filth took her arms and legs off knew what they were doing.  Most of the hard stuff was internal and software-related.  As long as she doesn't start running marathons, she'll stay in one piece."

                                            "That's impressive.  Makes me wonder why Tempest never recruited you."

                                            > "She tried.  Back when she first left the Storm Rulers.  But I was too old then, and I'm certainly too old now.  Getting mixed up in some damn turf war is a road leading to decades of frustration as you fight a never-ending battle."

                                            > "Then, if you live long enough to retire, you'll look back at all you've done and realize it wasn't worth all the pain you endured.  Not even close."

                                            > You feel like he's speaking from experience, but decide against pressing him for details.

                                            > With nothing left to say, you take Aria and place her in the back seat of your car.  Sunrise was fast approaching, and you still had one thing left to do.

                                            "Adagio, I have her.  I'll be at the club in about twenty minutes."

                                            > "Took you long enough.  I was beginning to think that those scavs were too much for you."

                                            "Not a chance.  Your sister was in pretty rough shape when I found her, so I took her to a Ripperdoc to get her patched up."

                                            > "How is she?"

                                            "Physically, she's fine, but..."

                                            > "But?"

                                            "There's a lot more.  I'll tell you when I see you."

                                            > "Okay.  By the way, we've closed up for the night.  You'll have to come in the back.  I'll wait for you there."

                                            "Right, see you then."


                                            > By the time you arrived at the club, the sun had already broken first light.  You've had it rough the past couple of days, and the next few were going to be even harder.

                                            > Cranky's words still resonated in your head as you parked your car.  Decades of hardship, and you've only been doing this for five years.

                                            > Was it really going to be that long?  Were your day-to-day operations really that meaningless?  What was your mother's plan?  Even if she did topple the Storm Rulers, what would she do next?

                                            > Other gangs existed.  Many of which you didn't get along with.  Would there ever be a day where she'd be satisfied?

                                            > You push such thoughts away for the moment as you pick up Aria and bring her inside.

                                            > Upon entering, you are tackled nearly full force by someone.

                                            > "ARIA!"  Said the distraught woman.

                                            > "You had me so worried.  I thought I was never going to see you again.  W-why didn't you tell me you were going on a dangerous mission?"

                                            "Sonata, get off of me."

                                            > "Why doesn't anyone tell me anything?  I'm trustworthy.  I'm loyal."  She cries.

                                            > "Pull yourself together, girl."  Adagio says, peeling her sister off of you.

                                            > "If you're going to act like this, go home.  I still have business to take care of."

                                            > Sonata then desperately tries to compose herself by whipping away her tears and fixing her clothes.

                                            > "I'm not a kid anymore, Dagi.  I deserve to be here."

                                            > "Then act like it.  I have a reputation to uphold, and you're not helping.  If anyone saw you like this, I'd be a laughing stock."

                                            > "But Anon is here."

                                            > They both look at you as you dust yourself off with one arm, one with contempt and the other with innocence.

                                            > "I can buy his silence, but that's not the point.  I give you a job, and I expect you to do it.  No questions asked.  That requires trust, and since we're family, I shouldn't have to explain myself."

                                            > "It still hurts that you won't tell me anything."  Sonata says sheepishly.

                                            > Adagio just groans.

                                            > "How many times do I have to repeat myself.  If you want me to treat you as an equal, you have to behave like an equal.  That means keeping your emotions in check and showing some self-restraint."

                                            > Sonata sits there quietly as Adagio continues to scold her.

                                            "Ladies, this is cute and all, but can we do this another time?  My arms are getting tired."

                                            > "You're right.  We both have things we should be doing.  Let's head downstairs.  Sonata, bring the car around.  We're going home shortly."

                                            > Reluctantly, she does as she's told while you carry Aria to the basement.


                                            > "So how much is it going to cost me to keep you quiet about this?"

                                            > You didn't think she was serious when she said it a minute ago.  Her image must mean a lot to her.

                                            "As long as you can promise this BD is top-shelf, then we'll call it even."

                                            > She looks over her shoulder and gives you a face you can't decipher.

                                            > "You're not very good at this, are you?"

                                            "What do you mean?"

                                            > The elevator opens, and you place Aria on a couch while you take a seat next to her.

                                            > "An illegal Braindance might be worth a lot to the right people, but even so.  You've done way more for me than what this thing is worth.  What's your endgame?"

                                            "I don't consider what I did to be that valuable.  It's just the process of doing business."

                                            > "Then you're an idiot."

                                            "Why are you complaining anyway?  Would you prefer I hang some meaningless dispute over your head?  What would I even ask for in return?"

                                            > "Geez, how new to this are you?  You threw away lives, gave my sister top-notch surgery, and have seen our most private moments.  If anything, I'm indebted to you."

                                            "Then, why are you so intent on paying me back?  If you think you're coming out ahead, why not let sleeping dogs lie?"

                                            > "Because I need to know.  Information is power in this city, and the one's with the most power control everything, so I'll ask again, what angle are you working?"

                                            > You sit back and think for a moment before offering an answer.

                                            "A day ago, I might have propositioned you to partner yourself with our gang, but now I'm not so sure.  I made a promise to my mother several years ago that I'd do anything to make her happy.  I was just a stupid kid then.  A stupid kid with his head in the clouds and not a care in the world."

                                            > "Sounds like a certain someone I know."

                                            > You laugh a little bit at that.

                                            "No kidding.  I see a lot of myself in her if you can believe it."

                                            > "Please tell me you're joking."

                                            "No, I'm serious.  She lives and works with family that undervalues her, is blissfully ignorant of the work she does and how it affects others, and when she asks questions about her impact, she's immediately shutdown when all she really wants is a little recognition."

                                            > "Well, when you phrase it like that, you two do seem awfully alike.  Honestly, I don't know whether to laugh or to cry on how apt your comparison is."

                                            "It's certainly sad, that's for sure.  All this time, I've only thought about my mother's happiness and not my own.  Spending every waking hour training and preparing to do one thing, and in the end, I don't even know if that'll make her happy."

                                            > "And what's that?"

                                            "To kill my father, the Storm King."


                                            > Adagio visibly straightens up as her eyes grow to the size of dinner plates after hearing what you said.

                                            > "The Storm King.  As in THE Storm King."

                                            "There's only the one."

                                            > "And that's her goal?  What would she do after that?  That gang controls half the city, not to mention the connections it has overseas.  If you kill one leader, ten more will step up to take his place.  They're almost too big to fail."

                                            "I'm fairly certain it's a personal vendetta.  After he's dead, I don't know what she'd do, and if she has nothing, that would make me less than nothing."

                                            > "If you by some miracle were able to pull that off, the whole city would turn on you.  Whoever's left would put a bounty on your heads.  One large enough that people would sell out their own family for.  You'd have to skip town, but even then, no matter where you went, you'd be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life."

                                            "Then, it wouldn't be much different from the life I live now."

                                            > Looking up at the ceiling, you slink lower into your seat and let out a long sigh.

                                            "Fuck."

                                            > That realization was more real than you were expecting.  You wanted to believe that what you did mattered.  That things would change as you grew stronger and more capable of changing them.  Only now, you didn't feel like that was the case.

                                            > "Seems like you don't know what you really want any more than I do, so let me rephrase my question to you.  What are you going to do now?"

                                            "I think, once I'm finished with this BD I'm going to take some time off.  Clear my head and do some soul searching.  After that, I have no idea."

                                            > "I see."

                                            > You could tell her more about the operation and why you needed this BD, but feel like you've already shared too much.

                                            > Having answered her question and nothing left to add, you stand up to leave.

                                            > "Wait."  Adagio says.

                                            > She tosses you a computer chip, which you catch with ease.

                                            > "Don't forget that."

                                            "Thanks."

                                            > "Keep in touch.  Maybe we can do business again some time."

                                            "I will."  You say before pocketing the chip.


                                            > "Let's go over it one more time."

                                            "Boss, we've got all the intel we'll need for the layout.  The only hiccup I have is how I'm going to find the equipment we lost in a timely manner.  The place is a fortress, and I might be good, but even I can't fight an army by myself."

                                            > "Which is why your get-away driver is a netrunner."

                                            "Grubber?"

                                            > "No.  Someone else."

                                            "Oh god.  Please don't tell me it's-"

                                            > "Trixie.  Yes."

                                            > You rub your temples to prepare for the coming headache that you'll have to endure because of her.

                                            "Can't Grubber do it?  This is the most pressing thing our group is undertaking right now.  Why isn't he helping me?"

                                            > "For three reasons.  One, Grubber is not a fighter, which you might have guessed by looking at his physique.  If things go south, you'll need someone who's good in a fight, not just someone who can hack things."

                                            > "Two, if he tried to hack in via a deep dive, it would tip off our plan to double-cross them.  Since the process of cracking their servers would be time-consuming and risky."

                                            > "And third, he doesn't want to."

                                            "Excuse me?  You're the boss, and you get to say what people can and can't do.  Why not just crack the whip on him as you do with everyone else?"

                                            > "Because I've learned that Grubber is an exception.  I've tried many times to get him to perform under duress, to no avail.  Besides, I can afford to lose one of you, but not both."

                                            > Meaning, she's willing to lose you over her little mole friend.  Not that you're surprised at this point.

                                            "One other thing.  If this mission goes smoothly, I'd like to request some time off."

                                            > "Time off?  To do what?"

                                            "I just need a break.  A week to relax and center myself."

                                            > "If the operation is successful, then yes, that will be fine.  However, I still expect you to spar with me every day.  Including today, since you missed a regiment."

                                            > It wasn't exactly your ideal scenario for a relaxing vacation, but you suppose it's better than nothing.

                                            "Fair enough.  When do we start?"

                                            > "In two hours.  Trixie will be here in one; until then, we continue to analyze and plan."

                                            "Commander, with all due respect, I'm going to blow my brains out if this continues.  Why don't we just do our training instead?  I could use it to warm-up for the op."

                                            > "Not a bad idea.  However, I planned on working you extra hard today to make up for yesterday."

                                            "So you're saying I can't handle it."

                                            > "I'm saying that I don't want you suboptimal for the infiltration."

                                            "If I can't go a few rounds with you without endangering my performance, then maybe it's your training that's suboptimal."

                                            > She shoots you a glare that you stare down.  If you knew anything about your mother, it's that she hates it when her practices come into question.


                                            > "Fine.  If that's what you want, so be it.  I hope your ready lieutenant because I'm really going to let you have it."

                                            > She was angry now, which was both good and bad.  Bad because now she's probably going to kick your ass, but good, because seeing any genuine emotion from her was rare.  Even for an instant.

                                            > Making your way to the workout room, you shred all of your bulky equipment and clothes as you start with some preliminary stretches.

                                            > Once you were ready, you take a stance on the wrestling mat.  Tempest counters with her own as you both slowly inched your way towards one another.


                                            > True to her word, Tempest worked you over good.  You would no doubt have bruises by tomorrow, but today, the pain only strengthened your resolve.  For it served as a reminder as to why you needed this.

                                            > On the ride to your destination, Trixie filled the air with her typical self-centered drivel.  In which you were able to drown out with your thoughts.

                                            > What would you even do with your time off?  You didn't have any hobbies.  Any acquaintances you had were from work, many of whom didn't like you.

                                            > Would you leave town and go somewhere?  Even if you did, where would you go?  You've lived in this city your whole life.  You didn't know of anyplace besides this one.

                                            > Maybe you could talk to someone who knew how to relax, and that's when it hit you.

                                            > Grubber.

                                            > The man who your mother trusted more than even you.  You'd tried and failed to get answers about various things from her for years only to be denied.

                                            > However, you've never even held a full conversation with Grubber before, and if his will was anything like his body, it could be easily broken.

                                            > With your spirit rekindled, you hone your focus on the task at hand.

                                            > See everything.

                                            > Hear everything.

                                            > No hesitation.

                                            > Strike with the intent to kill.

                                            > As you stepped out of the car, you calibrate your eyes to instantly scan all objects you gaze upon.  Nothing was to be overlooked.

                                            > Your ears still weren't functioning at 100% after your encounter with the Sirens, but you would manage.

                                            > "Call established.  Does the Shadow's pet hear Trixie?"

                                            "Unfortunately."

                                            > She grumbles angrily but otherwise says nothing.

                                            > Again, two guards approached you as you stepped closer to the building.  Only this time, they were much quicker to let you in.  No doubt expecting you.

                                            > Leading you to the basement, they instead take you to a large room with impressive decor.  A sort of makeshift throne room of sorts.  No doubt where their queen often resided.

                                            > "That was fast.  You work quick, boy."  An unknown voice mused.

                                            "I'd rather not live with something as detestable as this hanging over my head."

                                            > "Don't think of it like that, think of it as mowing the lawn for a neighbor."

                                            "Don't patronize me, character-building chores like this are beneath me."

                                            > The female voice cackled softly.

                                            > "On that, we agree."


                                            > Again, the woman materializes out of thin air, this time wearing a black dress left in absolute tatters.  Allowing you to see bits of skin all over.

                                            "Dressing to impress someone?"

                                            > "Not at all."  She says coyly.

                                            > "I wear this in front of all my subjects.  Seeing me in this keeps them motivated."

                                            > That's one word for it.

                                            > "Now, I assume you have what was promised."

                                            "Of course."

                                            > You present the chip, but one of her goons swipes it from you before presenting it to her himself.

                                            > "Excellent, and what gem have you brought me today?"

                                            "Don't know.  Don't care."

                                            > "Really?  Then, how do you know that this BD is of any quality?"

                                            "I trust my sources."

                                            > "Hmmm, and if I don't find it to be of quality?"

                                            "Then, I'm going to pay my sources another visit."

                                            > "Well, let's not speak in hypotheticals.  I've been itching to see what you've brought me.  Care to watch with me?"

                                            "I'll let you enjoy it, thanks."

                                            > "Suit yourself."

                                            > She takes a seat atop her throne and adorns a neural interface before plugging the chip in.

                                            > "Now, let's see what we've got it."

                                            > "Oh."  She giggles while crossing her legs.

                                            > "Very interesting."

                                            > You look on as she hums and haws every so often.  Giving you no indication as to what she was experiencing.

                                            > "Yes, do it.  Do it!  Do it!"  She screams with frantic fervor.

                                            > Her reactions become more varied and intense for the next several minutes, until, finally, she slumps over in her seat and lets out a satisfied sigh.

                                            > "This will do quite nicely.  In fact, this may be one of my new favorites."

                                            "Then, we're done here."

                                            > "Not so fast."  As you turned to leave, the guards at the door stop you.

                                            > "You're not even the least bit interested in what I saw?"

                                            "Whatever it was, it got you all worked up.  If that's enough for you, then that's enough for me."

                                            > "Oh, I think you'll be very interested in what I saw because whoever gave you this BD has a real good sense of humor."

                                            "And how's that?"

                                            > "Why don't you watch it and find out."

                                            > This wasn't good.  It would be rude to deny her, but doing so could compromise your mental state.

                                            "No offense, but you seemed a little tired after watching that.  Why don't you just tell me about it instead."

                                            > "I wouldn't be able to do it justice.  It's something I think you specifically would like."

                                            "Sorry to disappoint you, but things like emotions and empathy are lost on me.  I live in the reality that I shape with my own two hands.  I would get no joy in living some fantasy I wish was real."

                                            > "Even if that fantasy was one in which you kill your father?"

                                            > You hesitated, which was just enough for her to confirm her suspicions.


                                            > "See.  You may be a trained killer, but you're not above reveling in your work.  Especially when it comes to completing the one thing you were born to do."

                                            "How do you know all that?"

                                            > "Don't underestimate the knowledge I can acquire.  Piecing together your existence is a simple task once you have the whole picture.  Watching this BD was like taking a snapshot of what your ideal life could be like.  Minus, the sex with your mother."

                                            "Someone killing their father and having sex with their mother?  That was all on there?"

                                            > "Yes, apparently a man stopped loving his wife and sought out alternative means to fill the void.  Having no one to tame her sexual urges, her son steps in to give her that gratification."

                                            > "Upon being discovered, the son and the father have a fight in which the son blows him away.  The pleasure he took in doing it was palpable."

                                            "Well, you're wrong about me.  I don't hate my father.  I've never even met him.  My mother is the one with the grudge against him I'm just the one stuck in the middle."

                                            > "Then why become an assassin?  Face it, you want him dead just as much as she does."

                                            "I used to, you're right, but now.  I don't know."

                                            > "Curious.  A lot must have happened in the two days since I saw you.  Has the pet grown tired of his leash?"

                                            "That's none of your concern.  If our business is concluded, I'll be going now."

                                            > "Wait."  She demands.

                                            > "One last thing."

                                            > She saunters her way down the stairs of her throne and cups your chin in her hand.

                                            > You lock eyes and give her the same dead look you did the last time.

                                            > "I sense that you're nothing but a shadow of your former self.  Ironic.  Still, you have much skill and passion, even if you don't know it.  If you ever feel lost or want someone to love, my door is always open."

                                            > You feel as though she's offering more than just an invitation to join her clan.  But that didn't change the fact of why you were REALLY here.

                                            "Thanks, I'll think about it."

                                            > Content with your answer, she lets you go before walking away.

                                            > "I'll be waiting."

                                            > Finally, you leave her sight and sigh.  Knowing now what you had to do.

                                            > "Once you're in the elevator, wait for the carriage to start moving.  I'll deactivate the camera, and then you can make your move."  Trixie whispers in your ear.

                                            > It was a shame.  You really believed Chrysalis's offer was genuine.  If only she hadn't double-crossed you, things might have been different.

                                            > Once inside, you wait patiently as the two goons stand at attention behind you.  One of them presses the button to go to the ground floor, causing the doors to close automatically.

                                            > As soon as the steel box begins to move, you tap the button for the floor below it.

                                            > "Hey, what do you th-"

                                            > He reaches for your hand, and as he does so, you whip out your pistol with your off-hand and shoot both thugs between the eyes.  Thanks to your silencer, you should still be in the clear.  However, now you were on a timer.


                                            "How am I looking?"

                                            > "Two more guards are waiting at the door once you get off.  You'll have to dispose of them before anything else."

                                            "Roger."

                                            > Pulling out your other pistol, also equipped with a silencer, you wait patiently for the doors to reopen.

                                            > Once they do, the two men turn to see who was getting off, only to be met with a bullet to the brain.  Checking your corners, you make sure the path was clear before dragging all four bodies to a discrete corner.

                                            > "There's a netrunner in the room to your left and two more guards in the storage room in front of you.  Take out the netrunner, and I'll blind the other two, but be quick.  You'll only have ten seconds before their eyes reboot."

                                            "Can do."

                                            > Tip-toeing into the netrunner's room, you quickly dispose of him and head back to the door.

                                            > "Wait!  One of them is heading your way!  Wait a few seconds."

                                            > Standing just outside the door, you listen for the telltale noise of someone's eyes short-circuiting.  When you do, you dash through the doorway with weapons drawn.  Taking out the lone gunman before moving onto the next room and waiting for his eyes to fail before executing him.

                                            > "The way is clear, but someone's noticed the mess you made in the elevator.  You've got one minute before things get messy."

                                            "Understood.  Have the back loading bay doors ready to open.  I won't be long."

                                            > Analyzing the contents of the crates around you, you find what you're looking for with relative ease, but there was a problem.

                                            "There's more here than we thought.  I can't carry and shoot my way out of here."

                                            > "What!?  What are you saying?"

                                            "I'm saying you'll have to rush the complex in order for me to offload the gear into the car."

                                            > "Trixie's ride was not designed to make such brutish assaults.  Trixie's ride-"

                                            "I DON'T CARE!  Either do it or leave me to die.  Don't give me excuses."

                                            > You heard the ding of the elevator and knew you were out of time.

                                            "Over here!"  You say, baiting your enemies.

                                            > After saying that, you throw a frag grenade into the elevator room and activate the hydraulic lift to the loading bay above you.

                                            > Right before the first grenade goes off, you throw another one into the garage area above you to hopefully clear the room.

                                            > Picking up the case with both hands, you leap onto the platform right after the chaos broke out.  Praying as you climbed up that the doors would be open, but they weren't.

                                            "Trixie!"

                                            > No response.

                                            > As the smoke cleared, you look around and see a few men begin reaching for their guns.

                                            "Fuck!"

                                            > You duck and cover as the bullets begin to fly.  Setting the trunk down, you draw your weapon and return fire.

                                            > You had to get out of here, but if you went out the back and Trixie wasn't there to support you, their turrets would turn you into swiss cheese.


                                            > As the sound of gunfire filled the air you also heard the distinct sound of a car's wheels squealing to make a turn.  Then, like magic, the garage door in front of you shoots open.

                                            > Without hesitation, you slide out the back and land on the concrete running.  Just ahead of you by a hundred feet was Trixie with her back door wide open.

                                            > "Quickly!"

                                            > With just a few strides left, you hear shots ring out from behind you.  A sharp pain surges through your left leg, causing you to stumble.  Rolling with the momentum, you leap and land halfway into the back seat when Trixie decides to gun it.

                                            > With one hand, you grab hold of the driver's seat to keep yourself from flying out while using the other to hold onto the cargo.

                                            > Suddenly, fully automatic fire starts to spray into the car as you approach the gate.

                                            "Turrets!"

                                            > "Trixie knows!"

                                            "You need to-"

                                            > "I know!"

                                            > Bracing for impact, Trixie's car flies through the speed bump before coming back down with a loud metallic crunch.

                                            > Once she regained control, you finally pull yourself in and close the door behind you.

                                            > That could have gone better.  Looking back, you could see several people were getting into their cars to pursue you.

                                            "Not good.  Head to the rendevous point."

                                            > Trixie didn't answer.  Her breathing was labored, and when you looked at her, you could tell why.

                                            > She had gotten it a lot worse than you did.  Bleeding into her seat as she held one arm against her stomach.

                                            "Shit.  Move over.  I'll drive."

                                            > "This is... Trixie's-"

                                            "Would you give that damn pride a rest already!"

                                            > Pushing her into the passenger seat, you hop over the armrest and take over.

                                            > After taking a sharp turn, you make a call.

                                            "Boss, we've got the goods, but we're being pursued.  We need backup."

                                            > "On my way."

                                            > You streaked through the suburban streets like a mad man as the Hivemind quickly caught up with you.  They even had a few drones dotting the skies.  Shining spotlights down upon you.

                                            > As you tried your best to stay on the road, Trixie reached into her glove box and pulled out a MaxDoc inhaler.  She quickly took it before throwing the empty container out the window.

                                            "You going to make it?"

                                            > "Do not underestimate Trixie.  She is the best."

                                            "Then, show me how good your shooting is."

                                            > "Trixie will do better than that."

                                            > Leaning out the window slightly, Trixie turns her gaze to the drones in the sky, and in a matter of seconds, erupt in a shower of sparks.  Causing them to lose their forward momentum and crash down back into the Earth.

                                            > That was one problem down, but that still left the thugs tailing you.


                                            > You continued to bob and weave through traffic as you approached your gang's turf.  Meaning the cavalry would be here soon.

                                            > "Stop driving like a Cyberpsycho and let Trixie get a lock."

                                            "I'd rather avoid getting shot again.  If you're not able to use any more of your quickhacks then might I suggest the more direct approach."  You say while holding out one of your pistols to her.

                                            > "Trixie has her own preferred methods, thank you."

                                            > She climbs back in and pushes up the cushions in the back seat.  Revealing a hidden arsenal.  Pulling out a Nokota D5 Sidewinder.

                                            > You're not surprised Trixie preferred the type of gun you didn't have to aim.  However, before she could return fire, one of the rear wheels gets shot.

                                            > Struggling to maintain control, you swerve towards a gas station and slam on the brakes.  Stopping just short of one of the side walls.

                                            "Get inside!"

                                            > Using the car as a shield, you round a corner and rush through the front door.  The patrons inside appeared to be too shocked and scared to do anything as soon as the shooting started.

                                            "EVERYONE OUT THE BACK!  NOW!"  You command.

                                            > Thankfully, they do as they're told as Trixie kicks over some shelves to use as cover.  You take a few potshots before taking shelter behind them and answering an incoming call.

                                            > "I'm one minute out.  What's your status."

                                            "We're pinned down inside The Quickie on Edgewood."

                                            > "Roger that.  I'll be there soon, sit tight."

                                            "We gotta hold out.  The boss is almost here."

                                            > Seconds seemed like hours as chaos ensued.  What was left of the Hivemind army quickly began circling the building.  Cutting off any means of escape.

                                            > You took up a defensive position near the fire door in the back to prevent yourselves from being outflanked, but the hail of bullets kept getting more and more deadly as your makeshift barriers began to gradually wither away.

                                            > As the end crept ever closer, a new series of gunshots made themselves known.  Stealing a glance out the front, you could see a series of cars and motorcycles slam through the enemy blockade as they ran over your attackers.

                                            > Knowing now was the time, you make use of the diversion and rush out the back to fight out in the open.

                                            > Even on one foot, you quickly rush the assailants just outside the door.  Thanks to your cybernetic enhancements, you ran through the hired guns like a hot knife through butter.  Dodging, disarming, and killing whoever wanted you dead.

                                            > When it was over, the surrounding area looked like a war zone.

                                            > The air became heavy with the stink of blood and Nitroglycerin.

                                            > Cars and bodies lay in so many pieces you couldn't tell where one ended and another began.


                                            > Your mother was the first to approach you, in full combat gear and her motorcycle helmet still on.

                                            > "Where's the cargo?"

                                            "It should still be in the car."  You point to the bullet-riddled vehicle.

                                            > "We must leave quickly.  The police may not be very active in this area, but even they aren't stupid enough to show up without their big guns after all the noise we made."

                                            > "Once you've secured the asset, get in one of the transports, and be quick about it."

                                            "Yes, ma'am."

                                            > Once the package was safely put away, you hop into the back seat of a van and watched as two guys helped Trixie into a different vehicle.

                                            > With everything squared away, the gang rolled out.

                                            > On the way back to base, you took the opportunity to patch yourself up.  Nothing too serious, but that week off was looking mighty good right about now.

                                            > After you finished unloading, you followed the boss and a few of her top men to Grubber's lair.

                                            > The man sat in his chair, this time unplugged, waiting for you.

                                            > "Great work out there, guys.  I knew you could do it.  Especially you, kid.  This bad boy is gonna get us one step closer to our ultimate goal."  He says, slapping the case.

                                            "Chrysalis mentioned it was some type of high-grade netcracking gear.  But what is it exactly?"

                                            > "It is that.  But, it is also much more."  Tempest said.

                                            > She reaches for the metal chest and opens it for everyone to see.  Inside sat a modified gauntlet, a series of daemon chips, and a cylindrical container with a strange orange substance that you couldn't quite identify.

                                            > "These are nanomachines.  Outlawed in every country around the world, they were used for espionage during the last war.  They are designed to infiltrate high-security areas and compromise vital machinery, by either sabotaging it or as a last resort, destroying it."

                                            > "They are virtually undetectable, and to the untrained eye, the residue it leaves behind mirrors that of your typical incendiary detonation."

                                            > "Sounds crazy hard to get.  How'd the Storm Rulers get a hold of something like this?"  One of the men asks.

                                            > "From Militech, I presume.  They're the ones who engineered them."

                                            "So either the Storm King got ballsy enough to steal top-shelf equipment from Militech, or-"

                                            > "He's in bed with the Corpo slime."  Tempest remarked.

                                            > "A much easier and underhanded option, which would fit his MO perfectly."  Grubber adds.

                                            > "The Storm King is already the most powerful man in Night City, and with this, he could kill anybody he wanted and get away with it.  All without having to leave his beloved ivory tower in the sky."


                                            "It's that potent?  I mean, I know you said they doubled as an explosive, but what's the yield on those things?"

                                            > "It's roughly twenty times that of C4.  So, this small canister could easily level this entire warehouse."

                                            > A couple of the guys take a step back upon hearing this.  Not that it would have done them any good had the buggers decided to go off at that moment.

                                            > "Now that we know he has such technology, we have to shut down the production of these things by any means necessary.  If Militech has them in circulation, we need to find the source and destroy it."

                                            "Why not use it ourselves?  You said it yourself these things are nearly undetectable.  We could-"

                                            > "No!"  Tempest shouts.

                                            > "These things are too dangerous for anyone to handle.  If it was somehow discovered that we were in possession of them, the whole world would come down upon our heads."

                                            > "The only reason the Storm King can get away with it is because he has the money to buy the right people."

                                            > "What I'M going to do, is hand this over to the proper authorities."

                                            > "What!  Are you insane!"  Everyone remarked.

                                            > "I have a trusted contact in the NCPD that can be of help.  Once she has this, she'll be able to put Militech under the microscope.  Hindering their ability to traffic more nanomachines until we can stop them for good."

                                            > "I'll keep you all informed once I know more, but in the meantime, it's business as usual."

                                            > "Jet, I want you to take stock of our losses while I'm gone.  I'll expect a full report when I get back.  The rest of you, continue your work as you see fit.  Dismissed."

                                            > Everyone gives her a quick salute before dispersing.  Everyone but you and Grubber that is.

                                            > He jumps back into his chair and begins the process of plugging himself in.

                                            "Grubber, do you have a minute.  We need to talk."


                                            > "Sure, kid.  What's on your mind."

                                            "You've known the boss longer than I've been alive.  Was there ever a time where she seemed genuinely happy?"

                                            > "Oh boy.  That's a tough question.  Truthfully, I don't even know.  The first time I met her was when she joined up with the Storm Rulers after the war."

                                            > "She always seemed to be walking around in a haze.  Nothing really phased her.  I figured it had something to do with being in the service, but she's never told me."

                                            "So, you're saying she's never been happy.  Not even when she had me?"

                                            > "That's kind of complicated.  But if you're asking if she loves you, then I can tell you she does."

                                            "I'm not asking that.  What I am asking is for you to un-complicate things.  I've never been able to get a straight answer out of her, and I was hoping to get something out of you."

                                            "Why won't she tell me why she has such a grudge against my father?  Does she even have a plan for what she's going to do after she kills him?  Why won't she confide in me when I'm her son?"

                                            > "Tempest keeps those secrets for a reason, kid.  To protect you.  You don't need to know the reasons.  All you need to know is that her actions are justified."

                                            "Bullshit.  I've spent half my life following orders and doing her dirty deeds, and I have nothing to show for my efforts.  The least you could do is tell me why."

                                            > "It's not my place to tell you that stuff.  I'm sure she'll tell you when you're ready."

                                            "And when's that?  After I kill my father?  By then, it'll be too late.  Hell, Chrysalis knows more about my life than I do, and that infuriates me.  She looked through me like I was an open book.  Now, give me some goddamn answers!"

                                            > "Kid, I know you're upset, but you got to trust me you're better off not knowing."

                                            > You were at your limit.  You stomp towards him and yank his vest so that he's inches from your face.

                                            "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU THINK!  I WANT THE TRUTH!  AND IF YOU DON'T TELL ME THAN MAYBE MY OLD MAN WILL GIVE ME SOME ANSWERS!"

                                            > "Wow, wow, easy.  Let's not do or say anything we can't take back."

                                            > You lift him up and pin him against a wall.  Glaring with all your might into his eyes.

                                            "You listen to me, you fat bastard.  You've got ten seconds to tell me what I want to know before I gut you like a fish.  Now, answer me.  Why does my mother keep secrets from me?  Why won't she tell me why she hates my father?  What is my purpose?  Why do I even exist?  Tell me.  Why?  WHY!?"

                                            > Grubber squirms and recoils as your voice grows louder.  He tries desperately to break your grasp, but there was no chance of him overpowering you.

                                            > You slam him once more against the wall.

                                            > "B-BECAUSE OF ME!"


                                            > Of all the things he could have said, you weren't prepared for that.

                                            "What?  What are you talking about?"

                                            > "I'm the reason you're here.  Now please, put me down."

                                            > You let go of him, and he falls to the ground with a thud.

                                            "Explain."

                                            > Grubber stands up and dusts himself off before hopping back into his chair.

                                            > "Do you remember when I said I was around when you were conceived?"

                                            "Yeah, why?"

                                            > "I was trying to look cool in front of you to make a good first impression."

                                            "Well, you failed spectacularly.  Now, get on with it."

                                            > "It was the last day we were part of the Storm Rulers.  Tempest had set a trap for a group of Nomads called the Timberwolves, who were at the cusp of creating something incredible."

                                            > "As you know, most Nomad groups are ex-farmers who love to live on the land.  Well, thanks to funding from Biotechnica, they were able to funnel their efforts into creating a perfect gene-splicer."

                                            > "Since certain animals aren't affected by radiation poisoning, they surmised that if people became more like animals, they could live in places they once called home, and they were right."

                                            > "Tempest offered them double what Biotechnica was offering, as well as the creative freedom to upgrade and circulate the technology at their discretion once it hit the market."

                                            > "Poor bastards never suspected a thing.  Tempest offered them to the Storm King on a silver platter, and he happily accepted.  But, to make sure there were no objections, he ordered the entire clan to be slaughtered."

                                            > "And like a good soldier.  She followed orders."

                                            > You figured your mother hand some skeletons in her closet, but even this was a surprise.

                                            > "The Storm King was overjoyed by the work Tempest had done for him.  In his hubris, he asked if she wished to be rewarded by sharing a night with him.  He had asked many times before, but she always denied him."

                                            > "Of all the orders he gave her over the years, that was the one she didn't carry out.  She said no to him, and he decided that was the last time he would ask."

                                            > "Because he was the Storm King.  If he wanted something, he got it."

                                            > "Even if he had to take it."


                                            > Suddenly, everything made sense.

                                            "You mean.  He raped her?"

                                            > "Yeah, and I was there.  Tempest fought back, but even she couldn't best the Storm King along with his top men.  She lost both her pride and her arm that day."

                                            > "I wanted to help her.  I really did, but if I had done anything, the Storm King would have killed both of us.  We were powerless."

                                            > "After that, we defected and took anybody who would follow us.  And we've been fighting ever since."

                                            "So whenever she looks at me, all she can see is him.  Why even keep me then?  If he did that to her, why even have me at all?"

                                            > "Again, because of me.  When Tempest discovered she was pregnant, all she wanted to do was take a gun to her gut and pull the trigger.  I convinced her otherwise."

                                            "How?  My mother is one of the most strong-willed people there is.  How'd you convince her to carry me to term?"

                                            > "I've already told you enough.  The situation only gets more fucked from here.  But if you're determined to see this thing through.  I can tell you."

                                            "Please, I need to know."

                                            > He sighs.  Looking at the ground as he answers.

                                            > "I told her she could make you into a weapon and that it would be the best form of revenge.  The Storm King's greatest mistake, molded and used against him to bring about his ultimate downfall.  She loved the irony of it."

                                            > "And that's it.  Now, you know everything."

                                            > You didn't know what to say.  You took a few steps and put your back to the wall.  Your whole life, you thought you knew what you wanted.  You thought you were in control of your own destiny, only to be told that it was all planned.

                                            > You slid down to the ground and looked up at the ceiling for answers.  There were none.

                                            > You finally got the truth you wanted now for years, but now you didn't know what to do with it.

                                            > You wanted to be angry.  You wanted to lash out.  You wanted to deny it, but in your heart, you couldn't.  Everything you knew was a lie, and now you couldn't trust anybody, not even yourself.

                                            "Grubber, what do I do now?"

                                            > "I honestly don't know, kid.  And that's the truth."

                                            "You said my mother loved.  How do you know?"

                                            > "She may not have planned to have you, but she's still your mother.  And mothers love their sons."

                                            "From what you told me, I don't even know if she's ever thought of me as her son."

                                            > As you sat there, a deep emotion begins to bubble up inside.  You're The Anonymous Shadow, a trained killer, and heartless assassin.  You shouldn't feel like this.

                                            > You were trained with purpose.  Everything you did had an intent.  You never lost focus and were never compromised by bribes or emotion.  You were better than this.  All you needed was a target, and you knew the perfect one.

                                            > Standing up abruptly, you march to the elevator, knowing now what you had to do.

                                            > "Kid, wait!  Where are you going!?  What are you going to do!?"

                                            > You tap a button on the control panel before answering.

                                            "What I was born to do."


                                            > As you drove down the neon-lit streets, you ran thousands of scenarios in your head.  Mulling over every possible outcome and how to counteract it.

                                            > He stayed in a hotel.  A private one that he owned.  Security would be tight, but you had ways to get around that.

                                            > Physical obstacles you could handle, Netrunners; however, were another issue.  Even with your upgraded ICE for protection, it would only be a matter of time before they pierced your software.

                                            > You could try locating them first and taking them out, but that would run the risk of fighting more guards than you could handle.  You lacked too much vital information for a proper assault.  Perhaps, it would be best if you did some recon first.

                                            > Pulling over, you launch your magnetic grapple hook into the sky.  Climbing the porcelain towers with purpose.  Once you found a good perch, you pulled out your new trusty sniper rifle and began to take stock of your enemy's defenses.

                                            > It was worse than you thought.  Drones patrolled the perimeter of the building like hawks.  Guards were posted everywhere, and they regularly switched positions.  And, from what little you could make out with your x-ray vision, every surface was dotted with motion sensors and alarms.  Even the valet appeared to be packing automatic weapons under their vests.

                                            > You weren't getting within three hundred feet of that building without someone noticing.

                                            (Incoming call)

                                            > You knew who it was, and you didn't have anything to say to them, but you answer regardless.

                                            > "Lieutenant, report your location."

                                            "No."

                                            > "That wasn't a request, soldier.  Now, tell me where you are."

                                            "And I'm telling you that you don't need to know."

                                            > "Grubber told me of what you intend to do and that you were made aware of everything, but I'm telling you that you don't have the whole story."

                                            "Really?  Then you're saying you didn't train me for the sole purpose of killing the Storm King.  That I wasn't a burden that you didn't want to carry and that you didn't have to be convinced that aborting me wasn't the right idea."

                                            > A long silence follows.

                                            "That's what I thought.  Regardless of what you think of me, I'm putting an end to this charade once and for all."

                                            > "You can't do this.  Not alone, you're not ready."

                                            "Then, you will have lost nothing that you value.  Goodbye, mother."

                                            > You hang up.  Hell-bent on completing your mission.

                                            > You give the hotel another look, and conclude that you're not getting in quietly.

                                            > As an assassin, you'd normally take more time to flesh out a plan; however, today, you were on a suicide mission.


                                            > Your mother mentioned that the Storm King rarely left his ivory tower, and from what you could tell, someone was indeed in the penthouse.  Somewhere, but you couldn't pinpoint where.  For some reason, your x-ray vision couldn't penetrate the shades blacking out the windows.

                                            > You had hoped you could have waited for him to come out onto the balcony where he would have been an easy target, but alas, you weren't so lucky.

                                            > In some small capacity, you were almost happy that it wasn't that easy.  It would have trivialized all the work had done over the years.  Plus, it also would have robbed you of the satisfaction of seeing the fear in his eyes before you killed him.

                                            > Stepping onto the roof's ledge, you take a deep breath while looking down.  It was now or never.

                                            > With a leap of faith, you swing through the cityscape as you approach Maelstrom Tower.  Making note of the drones' patterns, you swing high enough that the thugs on the ground didn't notice you but low enough that the drones didn't detect you.

                                            > Not that it mattered, as soon as your feet made contact with the side of the building, a silent alarm went off.  The drones would move to investigate, but by the time they reached you, you would be twenty stories above them.

                                            > More alarms would go off as you climbed, but without any indication as to why you had hoped they would simply write it off as faulty machinery.

                                            > It wasn't until you were about three-quarters of the way up before a drone discovered you.

                                            > Pulling out your pistol, you blast the flying tin can.  The jig was up now.

                                            > With the remaining shots in your clip, you shoot into the empty hotel room in front of you to weaken the glass.  With as much momentum as you could muster, you punch it, but the window barely holds.

                                            > Time was running short in one last-ditch effort you climb to your current grapple point and push off as hard as you could, seeing more drones flying towards you as you reached the apex of your swing.

                                            > You twist and compress as you brace for impact.  Kicking the glass as it shatters into thousands of little shards.

                                            > You roll and run to the door before the drones could get a clear shot.

                                            > Once in the hallway, you reload your gun and brandish your second one.  Now you had to decide, stairs or elevator?

                                            > They probably wouldn't expect you to take the stairs, but you were still more than a dozen floors below where you needed to be, and climbing them would be time-consuming.  Not to mention that they most likely didn't go all the way up to the penthouse.

                                            > Elevator it was then.


                                            > As soon as you reached them you slam the fire alarm.  Knowing full well the amount of trouble headed your way.  Instead, you pry the doors open and look up the elevator shaft.  Finding one that went all the way to the top.

                                            > Once you did, you fire you magnetic grapple hook and zip your way up.

                                            > This was it, the moment of truth.  No longer on the outside looking in, you activate your special sight to look through the door.

                                            > Unsurprisingly, The Storm King had several guards securing the elevator.  Armed and at the ready just outside the door, waiting for you.  If you opened it now you would instantly be riddled with bullets.  But you couldn't turn back now.  You were just a few hundred feet away from your ultimate goal.

                                            > You had to take a gamble.

                                            > Ripping off a vent cover in the ceiling, you move your grapple from the top of the elevator shaft to the inside of the air duct system.

                                            > Looking over, it appeared that the guards could hear the commotion that you were making as they raised their weapons in anticipation of the door opening.  Perfect.

                                            > Swinging over to the doorway, you pull out every concussive grenade that you brought and place it at the foot of the doorway with their pins pulled.

                                            > Quickly, you lightly knock on the door before stepping off and retracting yourself back into the air duct.

                                            > The men inch closer to the door while you cover your ears as best you could.

                                            (BOOM!)

                                            > Right after they go off, you descend and lurch yourself over to the door.  With one gun drawn you make your way through the smoke as your magnetic lasso sheathes itself.  Once it does, you pull out your pistol's twin and silently double tap all the bodies you see writhing on the floor.

                                            > Checking your corners, you identify no other immediate threats.  The only thing you could see was the door leading to your destiny.

                                            > Having lost the element of surprise, you kick the door in and rush through.  Only to be met with fully automatic weapon fire.  Turrets.  There was always a turret.

                                            > You slide behind a kitchen island as the machine shreds everything around you.  With nothing left in your arsenal to deal with it, you scurry along the floor looking for something you could improvise.

                                            > But before you could, the mechanism inexplicably stops.  Why did it stop?  Peaking out from around a corner, you don't see anyone.

                                            > Jutting to another piece of cover, you look around from a new angle.  Still nothing.  Was he not here?

                                            > "Come on out.  I'm waiting."


                                            > The voice was distinctly male.  However, it was in a cadence you had never heard before.

                                            > "You did well to get this far, but in terms of assassinations, this one is probably the worst I've ever seen."

                                            > He's baiting you.  Hoping for you to pop your head out in order to get a clear shot.

                                            > "Don't be a coward now.  You've gone and ruined a special night for me.  The least you could do is die with some dignity."

                                            "The only one dying today is you."

                                            > He laughs at your retort.

                                            > "I've heard that one before."

                                            > From what you could tell, his voice was to your left, less than a hundred feet away.  Looking to your right, you spot the turret coming out of the floor.  If you could outflank it, you could win.

                                            > Holstering your guns, you grab a dish from the counter and throw it at the wall opposite of you, moving just before you hear it crash.  The engineered tool homes in on the disturbance and unloads.

                                            > Reaching for your belt, you flick one of your EMP disrupters at the contraption before it has a chance to correct its mistake.

                                            > It misfires for less than a second, but long enough for you to get behind it and grab it.  With all your might, you shout and tear the metal menace off of its foundation.  Before throwing it aside in disgust.

                                            > "Wow.  What did that thing ever do to you?"

                                            > You freeze.  Looking up, you see four figures gazing at you.  One with a gun drawn pointing at you.

                                            > "I see you."

                                            > With your pistols put away he had you right where he wanted you.  Not wanting to make any sudden movements, you reluctantly hold out your hands in surrender.

                                            > "I've got to say, you had me a little worried.  When I heard that explosion outside my door, I thought there'd be a whole squad of soldiers.  But it turns out it was just a snot-nosed kid."

                                            > "Didn't your parents ever teach you any manners?"

                                            > As he stepped into the light, you took a closer look at the man.  If you could even call him that.  The large imposing figure easily stood seven feet tall with silver hair covering his entire body.

                                            > You knew this because he was naked, as were the three women clinging to him.  They too exhibited characteristics completely foreign to regular humans.

                                            > Scales, long floppy ears with white fur, and feathers, respectively.

                                            > "Hmm.  Have we met somewhere before?  I feel like I've seen your face."

                                            > He lowers his weapon, and you instantly draw yours.  Pulling the trigger.

                                            (Click)

                                            > Nothing.  You pull out your other gun and try again.

                                            (Click)

                                            > Same result.


                                            > "Careful now.  Don't want to blow your load prematurely.  Speaking of."  He snaps his fingers, and all three women get on their knees and begin fellating him in front of you.

                                            > "You've got a few minutes before my boys show up to take care of you.  What you do with that time is up to you."

                                            > He was mocking you.  Not only did he not care who you were, but he also didn't even bother to kill you himself.

                                            > You pull out a knife and get ready to chuck it right between his eyes.  However, mid-windup your eyes go dark, and you throw the knife wide right of your target.

                                            > It was at that moment you realized what was going on.  Netrunners had finally cracked your software.  They had probably been trying to hack you since you got inside the building.  Only now were they able to cripple you.

                                            > "Is it sinking in yet, kid?  This is my castle, and whatever goes on here happens because I say it does.  You see these three lovely bitches here?  Oh wait, your eyes are off.  Forgot about that."

                                            > "But do you remember what they look like?  These insatiable whores are the latest batch of metahumans that I created thanks to my perfect-"

                                            "Gene-splicing technology."  You say simultaneously.

                                            > "How do you know about that?"  He asks, perplexed.

                                            "You sure love to hear yourself talk.  Don't you, old man.  You're the complete opposite of my mother.  Guess I'm glad I took after her in that regard."

                                            > "That's too bad I'd be more than happy to give her something to talk about though.  Once I'm done with these sluts that is."

                                            "She's had enough of you to last ten lifetimes you bastard.  It's because of both of you that I'm here."

                                            > "That would explain why you tried to kill me.  Emphasis on tried.  But you'll have to give me more than that, kiddo.  I've ruined thousands of lives."

                                            "My name is Anonymous Shadow of the Black Shadows, and I've come to take your head, father."

                                            > "Father?  That's not possible.  Wait, shadow?"

                                            > He ponders what you said for a second before a lightbulb goes off in his head.

                                            > "Oooooohhhhhh.  No kidding.  I guess Tempest was smart enough to keep the best thing I ever gave her."

                                            "YOU SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!"

                                            > You step towards him in an attempt to clobber his smug mouth, but your legs lock up and your arms freeze.  Leaving you to tumble ungraciously into the carpet.

                                            > "Hey, Jimmy.  Don't kill this one.  I've got something special planned for him."  You hear him say to no one.

                                            > "Good news.  You're not going to die today.  Better news.  I just thought of a great way we can spend some father-son bonding time together.  And the best news.  It'll make me oodles of eddies."

                                            > "Oh yeah.  I think we'll get along great, son."

                                            > And that was the last thing you remember.


                                            > "Wake him up."

                                            > A small bucket of water is thrown against your face.  Rousing you from your involuntary slumber.

                                            > "Good morning."  The Storm King remarked.

                                            > "Have a pleasant nap?"

                                            > You try to move, only to discover that you've been restrained against a wall.

                                            > "You know.  I always wondered what it'd be like to have a son.  A miniature version of myself causing pain and mischief.  Never bothered because of how long it takes for them to become a tolerable human being."

                                            > "Then you came along.  All grown up and none of the headaches of being a parent.  I should do it more often."

                                            "I am nothing like you."

                                            > "Sure you are.  You've got my dashing good looks and my flawless physique.  Even before I had this gene thing done to me, I was the most handsome man in town.  No lady could resist me."

                                            "No lady, expect my mother."

                                            > He straightens up as you poked at his nerves.

                                            "That angered you, didn't it?  A man who had everything couldn't romance a single woman in her prime.  Pathetic.  Women don't want to sleep with you because they like you.  They sleep with you to get your money, nothing more, nothing less."

                                            > He punches you in the gut so hard that it cracks the concrete behind you.  The force of the blow makes you puke out blood and gasp for air.

                                            > "You'd be wise not to mouth off to your dear old dad like that.  Who knows what's likely to happen.  Now, where was I?"

                                            > "Oh, right.  We're going to spend some time together.  And by time together, I mean I'm going to enter you into the Arena."

                                            "I'm (cough) not going to fight for your amusement."

                                            > "Of course not.  You're going to fight for money.  My amusement is just a bonus.  I figured since you're my son, you'd wreak havoc on the battlefield.  Make me look good in front of the other gangs."

                                            "Do you honestly think I'll play along with whatever bullshit you've planned for me?"

                                            > "I was hoping, but, on the off chance you didn't, I signed you up for deathmatches.  Just to help motivate you.  Don't worry.  Since it's your first time here, I only registered you for two matches today, although your second match is against the current champ.  But that's neither here nor there, I'm sure you'll do great."

                                            > "Sir, it's almost time."  One of his guards informs him.

                                            > "Perfect.  Let's not keep our audience waiting.  Good luck, son."

                                            > He turns to leave, but there was one burning question on your mind."

                                            "Wait!"

                                            > "Yes?"  He says, looking over his shoulder.

                                            "That's it?  You find out you have a son working for a rival gang, and your first instinct is to enter him into a tournament?  No interrogations.  No torture for information.  Nothing?"


                                            > He cackles like a hyena at your inquiry.

                                            > "Calling the Black Shadows a 'rival' gang is giving your mother too much credit.  She's only been a mild thorn in my side since the day she left.  The only reason I haven't squashed her and the rest of her motley crew is because I like her."

                                            > "Sure, I may have asked a lot from her in the past, but I always repaid her in kind.  All she had to do was give me everything I wanted, and she would have been set for life.  But no, she fancied herself better than all that and instead chose the life of a street rat."

                                            > "Now, I'm offering you the same deal.  All you have to do is survive today's matches, and you can come work for me.  You'll love it!  A place where you can do anything and be respected for it.  Couldn't say that about your time with Tempest, could you?"

                                            > "Think on it."

                                            > This time, he exits uninhibited.  Leaving you with nothing but your thoughts.

                                            > Was he telling the truth?  His emotions and mannerisms were so varied you couldn't get a read on him.

                                            > Could he destroy the Black Shadows anytime he wanted?

                                            > Did he mean it when he said you could join him, even though you tried to kill him?

                                            > These questions and others would have to wait as your bonds released you from their grasp.  Dropping you to the floor as two armored men approached you.

                                            > "Choose a weapon."

                                            > The two of them offered you an army knife, a katana, a sledgehammer, and a spear.

                                            > You quickly check your internal systems and confirm that you still had your secret weapon on you, but you weren't sure if it was still a secret to your father or your opponent.  You also didn't know who or what you'd be facing, so you take the weapon you're most comfortable with.

                                            > The knife.

                                            > "WELCOME, SCUM OF NIGHT CITY!"  An announcer shouted.

                                            > "Are you ready to kill!?"

                                            > The crowd responds with various cheers and yells.

                                            > "I'm your host, Powerbomb Tom.  And tonight, we've got a special treat for ya.  The Storm King himself has brought some new blood to the Arena, and he promises to be a show stopper."

                                            > "We don't know a damn thing about him, but if he's any good, does it really matter?  From the streets to our backyard, let's give a warm welcome to, The Mysterious Stranger!"

                                            > A large door rises to let you in and you are met with a cascade of boos and jeers.

                                            > "And his opponent.  A hotshot, looking to keep his seven-night streak of victories intact, Commander Chameleon!"

                                            > Opposite of you, another door opens.  With a man walking out with a spear in some ragtag clothes and scaly skin.  He, on the other hand, receives a standing ovation.  Sounds like he's a local favorite.


                                            > The stage itself was compromised of dirt and dust from the desert, compacted into a circle about fifty meters wide.  Leaving you plenty of room to run around and maneuver.

                                            > Looking up, the stands were packed, bursting with gonks looking for a bloodbath.  A bit higher up were the executive booths where you take stock of where your father was sitting.

                                            > He wiggles his fingers in a mock wave to acknowledge you before you return your gaze to your adversary.

                                            > "You know the rules kids.  THERE ARE NO RULES!  IT'S KILL OR BE KILLED!  NOW, FIGHT!"

                                            > An air horn sounds, and your challenger raises his javelin and chucks it at you.  You easily avoid it, but when you turn to face him, all that's left are his clothes on the ground.

                                            > Taking a defensive stance, you look around frantically in an attempt to find him.  It seems his name wasn't just for show.

                                            > You use your eyes to scan your surroundings but fail to locate your target.  If only you had inferred vision.

                                            > All of a sudden, you feel a heavy weight press against your face.  Throwing you off balance and causing you to roll and scramble away from an invisible attack.  As you spring back to your feet, you see no obvious signs of an attack or your attacker.

                                            > You couldn't fight like this.  You had to change tactics.  If you continued fighting defensively like this, you'd be too battered and bruised to initiate a decisive counterattack.

                                            > With no other options, you flick your right wrist and release your hidden monowire.

                                            > A tool akin to razor floss in centuries past but enhanced by modern science.

                                            > You begin twirling it around you as a means of area denial, but knew you couldn't keep that up for long.

                                            > Luckily, you wouldn't have to, as you notice the discarded partizan begin to mysteriously hover in the air.

                                            > Stopping your random flailing, you hone in on your opponent once more.  Once he was within range, you swing your nanowire at him.  Only for it to be deflected by the sharp tip.

                                            > As your attack harmlessly bounces off his weapon, he charges you full speed, spearhead first.  Retracting your line, you pull out your knife with your off-hand and meet your enemy head-on.

                                            > His weapon narrowly misses your stomach as you bring your knife around at where you assume his face would be but catch nothing but air.

                                            > He swipes his spear horizontally, but you dodge by leaning back, only mere inches from the ground.  Undeterred, he raises his lance again, intending to stab you.

                                            > As he brings its point down, you roll away out of the way just before he pierces the ground.


                                            > Using your momentum to your advantage, you whip your monowire out once more.  You feel a bit of resistance, confirming you made contact.  However, instead of severing whatever the wire comes into contact with, it simply leaves an open gash across his skin.

                                            > No doubt another byproduct of your father's genetic tampering.  If you wanted to do serious damage, you would have to completely entangle him.

                                            > Pulling out his spear from the dirt, he backs off to tend to his wound.  It was faint, but you could tell that you had hit his leg.  Not deep enough to cause open bleeding, but enough to know where he was at that moment.

                                            > Not giving him a chance to recover, you whip your superheated wire at him again, which he catches with his javelin.  The line wraps itself around the metal pole and begins to whine under the stress.

                                            > The two of you pull at each other in a makeshift tug-of-war before your laser thread cuts cleanly through his staff.

                                            > With his primary weapon destroyed, he discards the remaining pieces and returns to his strategy of sneak attacks.

                                            > Only this time, you weren't having it.  Taking your monowire, you begin lashing and whipping at the ground in an attempt to kick up as much dust as possible.

                                            > A low-hanging haze of sand begins to manifest in the middle of the battlefield as you continue to thrash at the dirt.  Once a sufficient cloud of dust was made you begin scanning the area around you.

                                            > At the first sign of movement in the fog, you unleash your nanostring, hooking some portion of his body.

                                            > You shout as you yank the string with all your might.  A foot materializes as a torrent of blood shoots out behind it.

                                            > The man screams in pain as his camouflage finally gives way from the stress of losing a limb.  Once he was in clear view, you dash to his side with brandishing your army knife.

                                            > He tries his best to evade on one foot, but you inevitably land a killing blow by stabbing your knife into his neck upwards into his brain.

                                            > He lands with a thud as you stop to wipe the blood from your blade.

                                            "Next."


                                            > Needless to say, the crowd was less than pleased with the outcome.  Throwing various articles of garbage at you as you walked out of the Arena.  Looking upwards, you saw your father clapping for you.

                                            > And at that moment, you felt prideful.

                                            > You had never killed for sport, only as a means to an end.  You were trained to never feel for your victims, for it would cloud your judgment.  And every time you did it, you were never rewarded or praised.

                                            > It was a job your success was preordained.  No exceptions, yet this time was different.

                                            > You killed that man as a means for survival, yes.  But it was more than that.

                                            > You wanted to kill him.

                                            > You wanted your father's recognition, and it felt good to have it.

                                            > You looked at him as he smiled at you, and that made you happy.

                                            > For once, you could say with absolute certainty that you had a parent that was proud of you.  It almost brought a tear to your eye.

                                            > Upon returning to your cell, you contemplated what you would do if you survived the next round.  In the moment, it would be easy to say that you would join him, but what would that mean?

                                            > If you denounced your clan, everyone you've ever known would become your enemy.  Grubber, Trixie, Thunderlane, Rumble, Sonata, Adagio, and especially your mother.

                                            > He mentioned that he could crush the Black Shadows anytime he wanted.  Would he make you do it?  Just as Tempest was ordered to slaughter the Timberwolves?

                                            > Could you go through with it?  Would you be able to live with yourself if you did?

                                            > "You're up."  One of the guards barked.

                                            > You suppose it wouldn't matter if you died in your next fight, but if you survived.  Then, maybe you'd consider his offer.

                                            > "Well, inputs and outputs.  We had a rather disappointing fight last round, but this next one is sure to have you at the edge of your seat.  Just be sure to hang on for those of you in the splash zone."  The announcer barks.

                                            > "First up, the challenger.  He got lucky in his first fight here at the Arena, but how long will his luck last.  Presenting, the Mysterious Stranger."

                                            > Again, your entrance is only welcomed with boos and taunts.

                                            > "And, his opponent.  A beast whose very presence causes the Earth to shake.  A man who eats steel girders for breakfast.  A champion with over one hundred consecutive wins to his name.  The undefeated, undisputed, unbeatable powerhouse of the Arena, RHINO RAMPAGE!"

                                            > The crowd roars as 'something' makes its way out out of the door across from you.  Another experiment of your father's, no doubt.

                                            > As the spotlights shine down upon him, you take note of every inch of the man's appearance.  If you could even call him that anymore.


                                            > He towered over you at approximately eight feet tall and easily outweighed you by hundreds of pounds.  His skin reflected his name as it was almost identical to a rhino's, probably just as thick too.

                                            > The horn, which would be found above the nose, was absent from his face.  Instead, two horns grew out the back of his elbows.  And if that wasn't enough, it appeared he had cybernetic implants to boost his arms' strength even further.  He could probably bench press a bus.

                                            > You weren't sure how you were going to kill him with the tools that you had, but you'd think of something.

                                            > As he approaches, the hulking mammoth smackes the ground repeatedly, and you feel the soil shake beneath you.

                                            > "I can't believe the boss let a pipsqueak like you in here.  This will be the easiest win of my life, so any last words before you die?"

                                            > You had killed meatheads like this guy more times than you could count, and you came to learn that words were often wasted on their kind.  Despite that, you did have something to tell him.

                                            "People who are fixated on size are always trying to compensate for something.  And you're the biggest gonk I've ever seen."

                                            > He pounds the terrain again before screaming in your face.  His cheeks, red with anger.

                                            > "Looks like our contestants are itching to get it on, so let's not delay!"  The announcer shouts.

                                            > "Not so fast."  Another voice booms.

                                            > "I have a few words that our audience might like to hear."  The Storm King declares.

                                            > The crowd becomes hushed as all eyes turn to the luxury suite above them.

                                            > "I intentionally kept the identity of our new combatant a secret for his own safety.  However, in light of this next match, I would like everyone to know who our champion is messing with."

                                            > "May I present, the Anonymous Shadow, expert killer, and assassin extraordinaire."

                                            > The audience's reaction to this revelation was immediate.  Disdain morphed into outright hatred, as many spectators likely had someone they personally knew die at your hands.

                                            > "Now, I know people have their problems with the Black Shadows, myself included.  But there's something else you should know about our new fighter.  He's not only a famous hitman, but he's also my son."

                                            > Once again, the unrest in the peanut gallery was silenced by your father's words.  Unsure how to process this new information.

                                            > "Crazy, right!  I didn't know either until yesterday.  Not that I should be surprised.  Anyone as talented and as deadly as him had to born of my seed."

                                            > "So let's not count out our sparkling newcomer so quickly.  I brought him here because I believe in him, so let's try this again.  Let's hear it for my son, the Anonymous Shadow."

                                            > The crowd obliges, mostly because they have to.  Still, a half-assed cheer was better than none, you suppose.


                                            > The behemoth in front of you is utterly dumb-struck with the series of events that had just unfolded, looking at you with a mixture of disbelief and confusion.

                                            "What's the matter?  Getting cold feet?  Guess I was right about you having to compensate for something."

                                            > Your insult succeeds in riling him back up as he shouts into the open air.

                                            > "I don't care if you're the boss's son.  I'll still squash you like a bug!"

                                            "You will try."

                                            > "Now, make papa proud.  FIGHT!"

                                            > The Rhino raises his fists and smashes the ground where you once stood.  Unsurprisingly, his incredible strength and size make his movements slow and easy to predict.  You theorize if you can keep your distance, you should be able to wear him down.  Once you've done that, you'll be able to land a fatal blow more easily.

                                            > You put your knife away for now and draw your monowire once more.  Without thinking, your adversary charges you full speed.  You sidestep him again before wrapping your superheated string around his left leg.

                                            > As he stumbles to stop his forward momentum, you pull your line taught in an attempt to sever his foot.  However, his extra-tough skin was delaying the process significantly.

                                            > Then, miraculously, he grabs the nanowire with his bare hand and yanks you towards him like a yo-yo.

                                            > As you fly towards him, he brings his arm around and clotheslines you.  The hit nearly takes your head off as your skull whiplashes from the force.  Once you hit the ground, the monster raises his leg and prepares to stomp on you.

                                            > Even with your head still reeling, you managed to roll out of the way.  Undeterred, he continues trying to trample you as you evade to the best of your ability.

                                            > Eventually, you reach the outer wall, and with nowhere left to run, the Rhino puts all his weight into his next step.  That split second of him winding up gives you enough time to push off the wall with your legs and slide underneath him.

                                            > Once you were back on your feet, you couldn't keep your head from spinning as you struggled to stay rigid.  It was more than simple disorientation that lariat most likely gave you a concussion.

                                            > "Stop running away and fight me!"

                                            > Your body swayed as nausea began to surface from all the gyration.  With all your strength focusing on keeping you upright, you didn't notice your stomach rapidly climbing your throat until it was too late.

                                            > Your knees buckle as you double over into the dirt.


                                            > Your opponent roars with laughter at your misery.

                                            > "What's the matter?  I only hit you once.  You should be able to take more of a beating than that."

                                            > He confidently saunters over as you scramble to get up.  With no energy to dodge, you raise your arms as he puts all his power into a close-fisted backhand.  You could hear the sound of your muscles and bones crunching as the hit sends you soaring.

                                            > "Is this all the great assassin of the shadows has to offer?  I guess I shouldn't be surprised that a group of traitors would be so fragile and weak."

                                            > He lets loose again, and you block again.  Only this time, it felt like he hit you twice as hard.

                                            > Having flown all the way to the other side of the ring, you use the wall to prop yourself up.  Your arms had grown numb from taking such heavy hits, and your legs continued to shiver.

                                            > "Most of my matches don't last more than a few minutes, so I tend to drag them out to give the crowd something to enjoy.  Have to please my fans, you know."

                                            > His voice was beginning to irritate you.

                                            "Why does every one of you gonks love to suck yourselves off so much?"

                                            > "What did you say!?"

                                            > He picks you up by the throat and holds you against the wall.

                                            > "I've had enough of your smart mouth.  I'm going to break every bone in your body until you scream for mercy.  Then, and only then, will I end your worthless life."

                                            > He reels back to punch your face in, but before he does, your eyes shoot open as you upload a daemon into his system.

                                            > His fist veers off course and smashes the wall instead of you.  The brute stares at his hand for a second before trying again.  Same result.

                                            > "What did you do?"

                                            > In his bewilderment, he drops you by mistake.  Unable to control his arms' movements.

                                            > This was your only chance.

                                            > You had to end it now, or else you were as good as dead.  Brandishing your knife, you leap for his face and stab him in the eye.

                                            > His wails of pain fill your ears as you try to pull your weapon out, but it remained lodged in place.

                                            > Having regained control of his arms, he reaches to grapple you, but you jump off and grab the top ledge of the stage.

                                            > Pressing the attack, you leap off the side and attempt to whip your nanowire around his neck as you sail over him.  At the last moment, he was able to sneak his arms in front of the string just before it caught his throat.

                                            > When you landed, you begin pulling with all your might as the strand tightens around his wrists.

                                            > "You can't... kill me that easily."


                                            > You were so close, yet so far.  Holding the cord with both hands, you try your hardest to bring your arms forward and keep up the pressure.

                                            > The Rhino attempted to push back against the superheated thread, but the more he did, the further it cut into his skin.

                                            > Your arms, battered and bruised from the beating you took, begin to pop and rupture because of the strain.  Just a little more.

                                            > Seconds go by as your tug-of-war with the monowire rages, doing its job at an excruciatingly slow pace.

                                            > As sweat poured down your face, you give one last push.  Letting out a war cry that all of Night City could hear.

                                            "DIIIIIIIEEEEEEE!"

                                            > Finally, your line breaks through, slicing off the Rhino's hands.  Blood spews from his stumps as he desperately reaches for the nanowire, even with his hands gone.

                                            > Then, with most of the resistance lifted, Rhino's head jettisons from his body as blood erupts from his limp torso.  His body gradually falls over as his head lands beside it.

                                            > You collapse upon sheathing your deadly rope.  Leaving the audience in stunned silence.

                                            > "I hate to say it, folks, but I think Rhino Rampage is dead, which means."

                                            > "That the Anonymous Shadow is our new champion!"  The announcer shouts.

                                            > For the first time, the patrons cheered.  Not reluctantly, not out of showmanship, but in celebration.  As you lay there, completely spent, all you could do was laugh.

                                            "That wasn't so hard."


                                            > When the cleanup crew came out to do their job, you had them help you up; because your arms were spent.  Most of the synthetic flesh was gone, revealing naked muscles, entangled electrical wiring, and metal bones.

                                            > You wouldn't be fighting again anytime soon.  Not without extensive surgery and painkillers.

                                            > Even so, the rush of adrenaline had left you in a fervor, unlike anything you had felt before.  You had stared death in the face but rarely had it come so close to making you blink.

                                            > As you came down off the high, however, you were beginning to wish more and more that you had some painkillers right this second.  It became so extreme you felt like you were on the verge of crying.

                                            > It wasn't until you noticed your father entering the room did you bite your lip and try to put the feeling of agony in the back of your mind.

                                            "How was that?  Did I make you proud?"  You say, walking closer.

                                            > He smiles before sucker punching you across the face, causing you to kiss the pavement.

                                            > "Proud?  What the hell do I have to be proud of!?  Do you have any idea how much money you cost me!?"

                                            "Wh-what?"

                                            > "Did you honestly think I believed you could win?  You had nothing but a pencil and some wire, and yet somehow you killed one of my best men who could have fought a tank and won."

                                            "I don't understand."  You say while still on the floor.

                                            "You talked me up so much right before the match.  Why?"

                                            > "Do I have to spell it out for you?  Your chances of winning were a thousand to one before I said anything.  Afterward, they were five to four, and Rhino's chances plummeted to five to one."

                                            > "It's never been that low in the years that he's fought here, and he was supposed to crush you."

                                            "But then, your offer.  Was that all-"

                                            > "A lie?  Yeah, DUH!  You're an organic meatbag with about as many implants as a toaster.  You didn't have a chance in hell in winning, and yet you went out there and made me look like a fool."

                                            > "Now you're going to have to pay me back, with interest."

                                            "Wh-what are you doing?"  You stutter as he reaches to pick you up.

                                            > "Leveling the playing field."

                                            > In one swift motion, he holds you over his head before throwing your body down over his extended knee.  As your back connects with his leg, you let out a short howl of pain before passing out.

                                            > The Storm King gets up and stands over you with a smug look on his face.  Content with the work that he's done.

                                            > "Remember now, I'm counting on you."  He says before turning to leave and letting out a sinister chuckle.


                                            > You wake up sometime later, startled, and instantly wish that you hadn't.  Every part of your body screamed in agony.

                                            > While you were out, someone did a half-ass job of bandaging your arms, as well as attaching some type of metal frame to your legs and lower back.

                                            > You try to stand up but realize that you couldn't.  Not because the weight of the metal skeleton was too heavy, but because you couldn't feel your legs at all.

                                            > You slap your thigh a few times to see if it had fallen asleep; unfortunately, it had not.

                                            > He did it.  He really did it.  It was all over now.

                                            > You slump back to the floor and stare, dumbfounded, at the ceiling.

                                            > What were you supposed to do now?  Your father turned out to be exactly who your mother made him out to be, and now you were paralyzed from the waist down.  Waiting to fight another death match, you had no chance of winning.

                                            > Your mother was probably out there somewhere looking for you, but would she even want you back, especially in this state?

                                            > You disobeyed orders, threatened her best man, and lost several valuable items entrusted to you.

                                            > No, she wouldn't bother.  The moment you stormed Maelstrom Tower, you were dead to her, and by extension, the Black Shadows.

                                            > You had no one.

                                            > All there was left for you to do, was die.

                                            > So there you sat, waiting.  Powerless to do anything.  A proverbial tumbleweed in the wind.

                                            > Reaching for your knife, which you had somehow reacquired, you hold it out in front of you and stare at your reflection in the blade.

                                            > A tool made to do one thing.  Serving no other additional purpose.  One was whole, and the other was broken.  And broken tools needed to be discarded.

                                            > Adjusting your grip, you take both hands and place the dagger over your heart.

                                            > If you were going to go out, it would be on your terms, not anyone else's.

                                            > Just before you do the deed, you think of all the people you've met and focus on the one who meant the most to you.

                                            "Mother.  I'm sorry that I let you down.  That I couldn't be what you wanted me to be.  I tried my best.  I really did."  You say with tears in your eyes.

                                            "You deserved a better son.  One that could have made you happy.  One that you could be proud of.  And even though we never really got along.  I'm going to miss you.  I hope you'll find what you're looking for one day."

                                            > With nothing left on the table, you follow through.

                                            ...


                                            > You attempted to thrust the shank into your chest but stopped just short.  Not because you didn't want to but because you couldn't.

                                            > This feeling.  You remembered it from not too long ago.  The complete loss of control when a Netrunner takes over your systems.

                                            > But how?  Who was watching you, and from where?

                                            > You scan the room and quickly find a security camera watching over you from the corner.

                                            "Let me go!  Let me die!"

                                            > A door opens, and two men walk in and take the shiv away from you, as well as place a large metal gauntlet over your right arm.  Once the invisible grip released you, you try to get up and go after them, only to stumble and fall from the clunky machinery attached to you.

                                            > Pathetic.  Some assassin you were.  You couldn't even kill yourself.

                                            > As you lay there, unmoving, all of your thoughts grind to a halt.  Waiting for the end.  In whatever form it took.

                                            > You paid no attention to the mechanical whirling sounds your exoskeleton made, nor gave it much thought as it forced you to stand up.

                                            > Gradually, it guided you to the gate leading to the Arena.  Where you waited for the door to open.

                                            > When it did, a thunderous roar filled the air as you were propelled forward.

                                            > The announcer shouted various things over the loudspeaker as you entered, none of which registered with you.

                                            > As you finally came to a stop, three men stood before you, all with different weapons.

                                            > They said nothing to you, and you said nothing to them.  They desired to kill you, and you were more than willing to oblige them.

                                            > Once the battle began, your legs gave out from beneath you as you crumpled to the ground.

                                            > The gladiators hesitated, unsure if you were trying to trick them into attacking.  Cautiously, they decided to spread out as a means of surrounding you.

                                            > When they successfully formed a triangle around you, they tentatively inched closer.

                                            > You closed your eyes and waited.  For it would all be over soon.

                                            > [spoiler] (VROOOM) (VROOOM) (VROOOM) [/spoiler]

                                            > That sound.

                                            > It couldn't be.

                                            > Suddenly, your body shoots up as you try to pinpoint the origin of the noise.  Your sudden movement causes your foes to back off as you searched the crowd.

                                            > Where?  Where was it?

                                            > Suddenly, one of the gated entrances flies open, and a crimson streak fires out of it.

                                            > In the blink of an eye, your three assailants are cut down.  As a familiar motorcycle parked itself right next to you, with its passenger extending her hand out.


                                            > "Get on!"

                                            "Boss!  What are you doing here?  How'd you find me?"

                                            > "We'll talk later.  Get on, quickly."

                                            "You shouldn't have come.  Leave me."

                                            > "I'm giving you an order, soldier.  Get on the bike."

                                            "I CAN'T!"  You scream.

                                            "He broke me."

                                            > She puts down the kickstand and dismounts before she begins to feel your lower back.  You could faintly feel the touch of your mother's hand as she inspected the vertebrae in your spine.

                                            > "That bastard."

                                            > "Give me your arm."

                                            "Why?  I'm useless to you now."

                                            > "That damage can be undone, lieutenant.  Now, give me your arm."

                                            > You refuse, but she wasn't having any of it.  Letting out a frustrated groan, she lifts you and places you on the back of her bike.

                                            > By that time, a group of armed goons had made their way inside the Arena.   Each one of them armed to the teeth with the barrels of their guns pointed directly at you.

                                            > "Wait here a moment."

                                            > Tempest steps away from her bike and begins walking steadily to the exit, and as the thugs opened fire, your mother disappears.

                                            > A second later, she reenters your vision running through her attackers.  Her arms expanded, and the flesh pulled back to reveal mantis blades.

                                            > A weapon only the most skilled and feared in Night City wielded.

                                            > With her super speed and cutting-edge technology, the gunmen didn't last a minute against her.

                                            > When she finished her work, her twin swords retracted back into her forearms as she walked back to you.  Giving no thought to the carnage she just unleashed.

                                            > "We're leaving, together.  NOW."

                                            > You knew better than to try and talk her out of something once she was in one of her 'moods.'  Resigning yourself to your fate, you lay on top of her ride and stare solemnly at the ground.

                                            > As she got on, she stole a glance at a particular suite above the stands.

                                            > You couldn't see it, but their eyes met.  One filled with fire.  The other with self-righteousness.

                                            > "Next time we meet, it'll be your last."  She said.

                                            > Revving the engine, Tempest spun her wheels before taking off like a rocket.

                                            > You don't remember much after that.  Only that there were several intervals of gunfire mixed with terrified yells and screams.  After that, things quieted down.

                                            > Even though you hadn't done anything, you felt exhausted.  Your eyelids, becoming too heavy to keep open before finally relenting to your fatigue as you cruised the city streets.


                                            > A soft beeping noise was the first thing you heard upon waking up.  You were in bed, but not just any bed.  Your bed.  You were home.

                                            > Hooked up to an IV drip and heart monitor.

                                            > As the haze in your eyes began to fade, you take notice of a dark figure in the corner.

                                            > It was your mother.  Armor still on but slumped over in a chair.  Sleeping.

                                            > How long have you been out, and did she wait the whole time for you to wake up?

                                            "Hey.  Rise and shine."

                                            > Ever the light sleeper, your words coax her from her slumber.  You watch as she stirs before snapping upright.

                                            > "You're awake."

                                            "Yeah, kind of wish I wasn't."

                                            > "How are you feeling?"

                                            "Does it really matter?"

                                            > "Anon, I know things have happened between us, but I need you to listen."

                                            "To what?  More scolding?  Why did you even bother rescuing me anyway?  After everything I've done and all the things I lost, you should have left me to die."

                                            "Look at me.  I'm nothing."

                                            "A broken tool."

                                            "No use to anyone."

                                            "Especially you."

                                            > "Anon."

                                            > She says, before taking a seat on the bed and removing her helmet.

                                            > "Son."

                                            > She places a hand on your cheek and forces you to look at her.

                                            > What she does next utterly floors you.

                                            > She hugs you.  With no reservations, she embraces you fully.  You sit there stunned as you feel the comforting warmth of her body envelope you.

                                            > Before parting and gazing deep into your eyes.

                                            > "I've been too hard on you, and for that, I apologize.  I never knew how to show love to others, least of all you.  That's why I distanced myself and appeared to be indifferent."

                                            > "When I look at you, all I could see was him.  And even though his blood runs through you, he's not a part of your life, I am."

                                            > "It's a mother's job to nurture and take care of their sons, and I failed to do that.  I just couldn't muster the courage to open my heart to anyone.  It felt like if I did, it would leave me vulnerable."

                                            > "Never once did I consider what you must be going through."

                                            > Her eyes grow dark as she stands up to look out the window.

                                            > "It's true what Grubber told you.  I never wanted a child, especially one born of 'his' volition.  And though I had intended to force you into the gang one day, when you volunteered and pledged yourself to me.  I can honestly say it was the happiest day of my life."

                                            > "No longer were you just a device for my selfish revenge.  You were Anon.  A man who I was proud to call my son."


                                            "Liar."

                                            > She had to be.

                                            "I don't know who you are, but my boss isn't as soft and forgiving as you are.  She's fearless and doesn't take shit from anyone.  Least of all me."

                                            "I have to set an example for the rest of the gang.  If I don't, everything falls apart.  If I fail, she fails, and that can't happen, EVER!"

                                            > "That's what I trained you to believe, but what do you want?  You've spent almost a decade trying to bring me the one thing I wanted most, but at what cost?"

                                            > "Look at you.  Can you honestly say you're happy with the decisions you've made?  The decisions I forced you to make?"

                                            > It's true, you weren't happy.  For the longest time, you accepted that fact as a part of living, especially in Night City.

                                            > But you couldn't ignore the honest truth, that most of it stemmed from being part of the Black Shadows.  From the things you've done to people, innocent or no, would haunt a normal person's nightmares.

                                            > "I'm telling you that what you've done is wrong.  I was wrong.  I placed that burden squarely on your shoulders.  And even though you were willing to bear it, I shouldn't have done that to you."

                                            > "From this day forward, I promise to treat you as an equal.  To talk and listen to your needs.  To show you the love and respect you deserve."

                                            > Her words were genuine enough, but you didn't want to believe it.  After everything that's happened, she was willing to forgive you?  You look at your legs and feel like you were about to cry.

                                            "No, it's too late for that.  Even if I believed you, no one else would accept that decision.  I went against your orders and ended up like this.  I'm nothing but a liability now."

                                            > "Son, I didn't become the leader of an infamous gang because I lack the authority to do so.  If I say something, then there is no arguing it.  Besides, Cranky can fix you up."

                                            > "I may not be a ripperdoc, but depending on how bad your injuries are, he may only have to replace a few vertebrae instead of giving you a whole new spine."

                                            "And you're willing to pay for that for a traitor like me?"

                                            > "You've never betrayed me, son.  You've done more for me than anyone else ever has.  I realize that now.  So it's time I returned the favor."

                                            > She leans over and plants a soft, tender, motherly kiss on your lips.  You couldn't even remember the last time she's done that.

                                            > "Now, get some rest.  We'll be going in tomorrow to get you evaluated."

                                            > She moves to the doorway to leave but stops for a moment to look back at you.  Appearing to have more to say.

                                            > "And..."  She starts sheepishly.

                                            > [spoiler] "I love you." [/spoiler]

                                            > She closes the door, and the flood gates open.


                                            > When you got the surgery, you expected the downtime to be considerable, but you weren't expecting to be out of commission for multiple months.

                                            > Every day, you went to rehab, and every day it was torture.  The process of struggling to put one foot in front of the other, the need for someone to cart you around in a wheelchair, was humiliating.

                                            > However, it wasn't all bad.  Your mother took it personally upon herself to help you recover.

                                            > The two of you would talk for hours at a time, something that never would have happened before your injury.  Slowly but surely, she opened up to you, which in turn, made you more honest about your feelings as well.

                                            > She told you about her service in the war and how she lost many comrades in battle.  That she had no family before the service and how losing one she just made tore her apart.

                                            > She also explained how she met your father.  How he gave her purpose after losing what little meaning she had left in life.  It seemed hard to believe, but you remember that you were nearly ensnared in his trap as well.

                                            > You shared your hopes for the future with her and asked if you could spend more time together as a family.

                                            > She welcomed the idea, even though she had no idea how to do that.  In truth, you didn't know either, but you at least wanted to try.

                                            > One afternoon, the two of you were walking home from rehab when you suggested relaxing in the park.

                                            > "That sounds lovely, son."

                                            > The two of you meander for a bit before finding a relatively clean spot in the shade to sit.

                                            > "So...  What now?"

                                            "We could talk about work.  I think I'm strong enough to go out on patrols now."

                                            > "I think so too.  Although, I'd prefer if you started collecting protection fees first.  They are less likely to lead to violence, and even if they do, it would be against civilians who have never fired a gun in their life."

                                            "Speaking of, you haven't told me much about how things are on the frontlines.  How are we doing in that regard?"

                                            > She thinks for a moment before giving you an answer.

                                            > "I won't lie.  Things have been more difficult since you've been out of commission.  The Storm Rulers are constantly pushing against us, and the Hivemind has tried hacking our network multiple times since we stole those nanomachines from them."

                                            "I can understand the Hivemind being a difficult enemy for us to fight, but the Storm Rulers are almost all muscle and no brain.  How are we losing to them?"

                                            > "Because they're getting smarter.  Those nanomachines I mentioned are becoming more and more frequently used in their attacks."

                                            > "They'll plant them at a street corner, a convenience store under our protection, or a major pipeline.  Anything to disrupt our day-to-day routine and keep us guessing."

                                            > "When that happens, they'll swoop in and take advantage of the chaos.  Even our best troops are having a hard time focusing when anything around them could explode for no reason."


                                            "Didn't you say you had someone in the NCPD that was going to stem that problem?"

                                            > "I did, but even so.  The frequency in which these attacks are happening leaves me to believe one of two things.  That he's either created a significant backlog of the stuff, or he has a workshop under his direct control."

                                            > This news didn't sit well with you.  Thinking back to the last time you saw him, you rehash your father's words aloud.

                                            "I can crush the Black Shadows anytime I want to.  Seems like he wasn't bluffing."

                                            > "Don't exaggerate.  We're far from the end of our rope.  Once we can both commit all of our time to our work, we can make up any ground we've lost."

                                            "Still, if we don't do something about those nanomachines we're going to be ice-skating uphill."

                                            > "I agree, which is why I've tasked Grubber to locate the source.  If he could do it once, he can do it again."

                                            > "But we've spent enough time sitting here.  Sunset is approaching, and we both have places to be."

                                            "You finally going to let me spar with you again?"

                                            > "As much as I'd like that, you should save your strength for work tonight."

                                            > She stands up and helps you do the same.

                                            > "Carry on, son."

                                            > You offer a quick salute before parting ways.  You were still getting used to the idea of her calling you son, the same as you were referring to her as your mother.

                                            > You welcomed the change, but that didn't make it any less weird.  Speaking of change, you needed to suit up before going to work.  You thought about heading home but decided to make an alternate stop instead.

                                            > Summoning your old clunker, you drive through the crowded streets until you reach a familiar local in the suburbs.

                                            > You reach your destination just as night began to fall.  Parking alongside the road, you enter through the back entrance as you punch a code into a keypad.

                                            > Finding your locker, you open it and adorn your usual gear, but before heading out, you decide to pay someone a visit.

                                            > Taking the elevator down, you find the man exactly where he should be.

                                            "Grubber, got a minute?"

                                            > "Aaa..."

                                            "Relax, I'm not going to harass you this time."

                                            > "I guess."

                                            > He takes off his headgear as he adjusts himself to talk to you from his Netrunner chair.

                                            "I wanted to talk to you about that, actually.  I never apologized for how I treated you back then.  I was frustrated, and I took it out on you, and you didn't deserve that."

                                            "If there's some way I can make it up to you, I'd be happy to do it."

                                            > Surprisingly, he gets up from his chair and places a hand on your shoulder.

                                            > "Ah, don't sweat it, kid.  I've dealt with worse.  Besides, you had every reason to be mad.  I told Tempest what she was doing was wrong, but she didn't listen to me.  I'm just glad things worked out in the end."

                                            "At a cost, one that could have been avoided had I confronted her directly."


                                            > "That's where your wrong, kiddo.  Tempest doesn't budge on things she believes in; unless drastic measures are taken.  What you did may not have been right, but it was the only solution."

                                            "I'm glad to hear you say that, but I still feel like I should do something for you to make up for past grievances."

                                            > "Then why don't we go for an ice cream run?"

                                            "Really?  That's it?"

                                            > "What can I say.  I'm a simple man with simple needs."

                                            "If that's all, where to then?"

                                            > "We'll go to Sugarcube Corner.  It's at the edge of our territory, but it's well worth the trip."

                                            "If you say so."

                                            > You end up ordering an ordinary vanilla cone while Grubber requests a bucket of triple-scoop birthday cake ice cream.

                                            > Finishing your dessert well before him, the two of you don't talk much as you sit in relative silence.

                                            > While waiting for him to finish, you notice a group of degenerates slinking around the streets.  You didn't recognize them, and they weren't wearing your gang's colors.

                                            > They could have been some street rats looking for scraps, or possibly some rival gang smart enough not to paint a target on their backs.  Either way, you didn't like it.

                                            "I'm going to go check something."  You say, getting up from the table.

                                            > Grubber responds with a thumbs up before digging back into his frozen treat.

                                            > You follow the thugs to a small parking lot, where you find about a dozen of them loitering around.  With vehicles painted with the Storm Rulers banner.

                                            > Some people were feeling big in their britches.  Guess it was up to you to knock them down a peg.

                                            > Normally, you'd use this opportunity for some target practice.  However, that changed when you heard a cry for help.

                                            > "Please don't hurt me.  I was just looking for a friend."

                                            > "I'll be your friend, baby.  Hell, I'll be more than a friend."  One of them snickers.

                                            > "I don't want anything to do with you meanies."

                                            > An audible slap caught your ear as you stole a peek around a corner.

                                            > "You don't get to decide what you want around here.  This is our turf, and that means you have to do what we say."

                                            > You couldn't see who was being interrogated from this angle, but you did see one of them break off from the group.  He walked down a separate alleyway and fiddled with his pants to relieve himself.  An easy target.

                                            > Staying in the shadows, you crept up behind him and locked your arms around his neck.  Before he could muster any response, you twist your arms in opposite directions and snap his neck.

                                            > Catching him as he fell, you pulled at his jacket as you dragged him into the darkness.


                                            > Once you pulled him into the shadows, you pull out your twin pistols and attach a silencer to each.

                                            > "What's taking him so long?"  One of them asks.

                                            > "Maybe he found some homeless guy to beat up."  Another one remarks.

                                            > "I'm going to go check on him."

                                            > Another foolish soul wanders alone into the depths to find his friend.  Only to find a single bullet waiting for him.

                                            > Now was the time to strike.  Very soon, the cattle would grow wise to your actions, so you had to act while you still had the element of surprise.

                                            > Using your unique vision, you scout out your remaining victims.  In the process of doing so, you also find the civilian.  They had her pinned against a wall in a compromising position.

                                            > It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what they were going to do next.  Too bad you weren't going to give them a chance to do it.

                                            > "Hey, fat ass.  Where do you think you're going?"

                                            > "T-to my car."

                                            > That voice.  Grubber, what was he doing?

                                            > Peeking around the corner, you notice all the thugs' attention was placed squarely on him.

                                            > A perfect opening, one that you did not hesitate to take.

                                            > Focusing on one group at a time, you neutralize the targets around the innocent bystander and notice it was Sonata.

                                            > That fact, however, doesn't distract you from your work.  Dispatching the goons around her, you swiftly but silently pop each thug you see in the face.

                                            > By the time you got to the gunmen heckling Grubber, he had taken notice of your work and used his netrunning skills to hack and disable their retinas and weapons.  Making them blind and defenseless.

                                            > With nothing stopping you, you quickly dispose of them all.

                                            > Surveying the carnage, you double-tap a few of the bodies to be safe.

                                            > "ANON!"  Your ears ring.

                                            > "You saved me.  I was so w-

                                            "What the hell were you doing?"  You interject.

                                            "Do you have any idea how dangerous these few blocks are?  At least a dozen people die around here every night.  You might as well be walking into a war zone."

                                            > "You know this bitch?"  Grubber asks.

                                            "Barely."

                                            > "You saved my sister's life, Anon.  And when you didn't call back, I came to find you.  Sis told me that you'd call, but you never did."

                                            "Does Adagio even know you're here?"

                                            > She looks away.  Her legs, fidgeting.

                                            "Of course not.  Go home, Sonata.  I appreciate your concern, but these streets aren't safe.  If it wasn't for me, you'd have been violated and dead in a gutter."

                                            "Come on, let's go."  You tell Grubber.

                                            > "Right behind you, kid."


                                            > "Wait!  You just said these streets were dangerous.  You can't leave me alone."

                                            "Then call a cab.  I'm not a charity, Sonata.  Despite what you think of me, I only helped your family because they promised to pay me.  You should know nothing is free in this city."

                                            > You turn to leave, but she stops you again.

                                            > "Okay, I'll give you a reward.  Just, please don't leave me."

                                            > You let out an annoyed sigh.  You know you were going to regret this.

                                            "Fine, let's go.  I've got a car waiting."

                                            > "Wait, wait, hold up."  Grubber interrupts.

                                            > "I need to get back to work protecting our servers.  I can't be taking field trips around town with you and this joytoy.  Especially in the middle of the Sirens' territory.  I bruise easy."

                                            "Don't you have a car?"

                                            > "No!  Why would I?  I never go anywhere.  If I get food, I order delivery."

                                            "So what do you suggest?"

                                            > "Anon could walk me home.  My apartment isn't too far from here."  Sonata says.

                                            > You didn't like it, but if you were getting paid, you suppose you could suck it up.

                                            "Lead the way."  You say half-heartedly.

                                            > "Yay!"  Sonata cheers.

                                            > You toss Grubber your keys and begin your arduous journey.

                                            > As you coast the streets, Sonata talks your ear off by giving you her whole life's story.  Talking about everything from her favorite color to how she grew up and everything in-between.

                                            > She practically ran circles around you with the amount of energy she told her tales.  Just watching her was exhausting.

                                            > "We're here!"  She says, standing in front of a tall concrete skyscraper.

                                            "Great.  Now, pay up."

                                            > "Not here, silly.  Your prize is waiting upstairs."

                                            "You're meaning to tell me, you asked for my protection without a single eddie to your name?"

                                            > "Don't worry, I've got something better than eddies to give you."

                                            > You doubt that, but you've come this far, and you can't leave empty-handed now.

                                            "You better."

                                            > Following her to the elevator, she stops just short with a worried look on her face.

                                            "Something wrong?"

                                            > "I forgot.  Our floor is being flagellated today."

                                            "W-what?"

                                            > "One of our neighbors had bedbugs, and they plan on extra mining them today."

                                            > You pinch the bridge of your nose and groan.

                                            "That's not-  God, you're killing me, Sonata."

                                            > "Yeah, sorry, I totally forgot."

                                            "So, what are we supposed to do?"

                                            > "We can go to the Silent Serenade.  I'll give an even bigger reward there."

                                            "Sonata, that's almost another dozen blocks from here.  You're running up a really big tab with me.  Are you sure your sister will be okay with you wasting this much time and money?"

                                            > "No, but she's going to yell at me anyway.  Besides, I want to make it up to you."

                                            > Under any other circumstances, you would have cut your losses by now and headed back home.  Yet, Sonata's childlike behavior and innocence were crushing your ironclad demeanor.


                                            "I don't know why I'm doing this."

                                            > "Thank you!"  She screams before hugging you.

                                            > "Good guys like you are hard to come by in this city."

                                            "I already told you I'm NOT a good guy."

                                            > "Deny it all you want, but I've got a sixth sense when it comes to judging people."

                                            "I doubt that, highly.  Now, can we please get a move on?  We're burning moonlight."

                                            > "First things first.  You need to hold my hand."

                                            "No."

                                            > "W-why?"  She says like she's going to cry.

                                            "I need both my hands at the ready to react to potential dangers.  If someone tries to mug us, I can't have you weighing me down."

                                            > "But it'll make me feel safer."

                                            "I don't care."

                                            > She pouts a little but otherwise doesn't raise any further objections.

                                            > As you continue walking, your curiosity gets the better of you.

                                            "Say, Sonata.  Why are you so happy and bubbly all the time?"

                                            > "What do you mean?"

                                            "You're a hooker, and yet you have this unrealistic view of everything.  I'm a trained killer, and you think I'm some kind of saint."

                                            "You walk the city streets alone at night and don't think anything bad is going to happen.  How?  Did your parents spoil you or something?"

                                            > She stops and ponders this for a second.

                                            > "I never really knew my parents.  They both died when I was young, so if they spoiled me, I don't remember it."

                                            "I'm sorry."

                                            > "Don't be.  I've never really known another life, but that's okay.  My sisters are all the family I need.  We've been through everything together."

                                            > "That's why, when you brought Aria back I-"

                                            > "I was overjoyed."  She struggled to say.

                                            > "If I lost her.  I don't know what I would do."

                                            > Crazy to think people like her still existed in Night City.  Living here one night is usually enough to turn the sweetest of hearts black and bitter.

                                            "Well, I'm glad it worked out then."

                                            > "Me too."  She says, trying to sound chipper.

                                            "How is your sister, by the way?  Were there any complications after her; experience?"

                                            > "Nope.  Aria is tough as nails, so she bounced back like it was nothing."

                                            "Good to hear."

                                            > An hour later, you finally reach your destination.

                                            > "Sonata, where you been?  The boss was getting worried about you."  One of the bouncers said.

                                            > "I know.  She's been calling me nonstop, but I couldn't tell her where I've been."

                                            "What?  We walked half the city because you were embarrassed to tell Adagio you were alone in enemy territory."

                                            > "You what!  Sonata!  What were you thinking!?"

                                            > "I know!  But I had to.  I was looking for him."

                                            > "Him?  Why?  Wait, you look familiar?"

                                            > "He's the one who saved Aria."

                                            > "Oh, so you found your knight in shining armor.  Confess to him yet?"


                                            > "NO!  NO!  SHUT UP!  I HAVEN'T TOLD HIM YET!"

                                            "Confess?  What is she talking about?"

                                            > Sonata pulls her hair over her face.  Embarrassed to make eye contact.

                                            > The bouncer laughs as she watches her companion squirm.

                                            > "Forget I said anything.  The boss is waiting for you two inside."

                                            > Tentatively, you both enter.  Unexpectedly, you didn't have to give up your weapons this time, so you both go straight downstairs.

                                            > "Why were you dodging my calls!?"  Adagio exclaims.

                                            > "I can explain Dagi!"

                                            > "I already know why you were out, but that doesn't excuse you from failing to check in with me first!"

                                            "Sorry to break up your family squabble, but Sonata promised me compensation for my efforts."

                                            > "Yeah, can't we do that first?"  Sonata pleads.

                                            > "He wants to get paid, Sonata.  He doesn't want 'that.'"  Adagio remarks.

                                            > "But all guys want that, and I'm really good at it."

                                            > In the back of your mind, a few gears were beginning to turn.

                                            "Wait.  You were planning to pay me with sex?"

                                            > "Of course."

                                            "But I don't want that."

                                            > "Seriously."  Aria chimes in.

                                            > "Why not?  I'm pretty, aren't I?  Plus, I'm the best out of everyone in this club at doing it."

                                            "That's not the issue here."

                                            > "Then, maybe you'd like to do it with all three of us."

                                            > Of all the things she could have followed up with, that was the last thing you were expecting.

                                            > "That's not up to you to decide."  Adagio interjects.

                                            > "Why not?  The three of us haven't done it together in such a long time, and he's perfect for it."

                                            > "Perfect for you, maybe."  Aria adds.

                                            > "The only reason we do that is when we get a customer who's willing to pay for it.  That's not something we offer for free."

                                            > "But I thought you liked it when we spent time together having sex."

                                            > "I do, but not enough if it means I'm not making money."  She answers reluctantly.

                                            > "I'm with her.  If we can pay him eddies, I'm fine with leaving it there."  Aria replies.

                                            > "But that's not what I want.  Can't we give him a big discount?  For saving mine and Aria's lives?"

                                            "Sonata, it's not about the sex.  I appreciate the offer, but I can't afford to be selfish right now.  Besides, I couldn't handle the three of you anyway."

                                            > "Why?  Are you a virgin?"  Aria asks.

                                            "That's not-  Well..."

                                            > Shit, why did you say that.

                                            ...

                                            ...

                                            ...


                                            > Adagio and Aria try to stifle their laughter, but you could still hear both of them giggling over their covered mouths.

                                            > "For realsies?"

                                            "Yes, but that's not the point.  What I was going to say is.  I'm still on the mend from an injury the Storm King gave me.  Hell, I just gained the strength to walk on my own a few weeks ago."

                                            > "It's okay, Anon.  I can teach you how to please a woman."

                                            > There was just no winning with her.

                                            "Why are you being so nice to me?  We're from rival gangs.  If anything, you should despise me."

                                            > "Wow, no wonder you're a virgin.  You're clueless when it comes to women."  Aria mocks.

                                            "What's that supposed to mean?"

                                            > "It means she's-"

                                            > "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"  Sonata shouts.

                                            > Everyone was taken aback by her sudden outburst.  You didn't think she was even capable of swearing.

                                            > "Anon."  She starts timidly.  Looking deep into your eyes as she straddles your lap.

                                            > "I know you think I'm kind of weird and that I can be a bit of an airhead sometimes."

                                            > "Sometimes?"  Aria whispers under her breath.  Only for Sonata to shoot daggers at her.

                                            > "But the reason I'm like that is; because I want to make other people smile.  Everything in my life kind of sucks, so I try to make other people feel better to make me feel better."

                                            > "Especially, when it comes to my family.  But that's why I want you to be part of my family."

                                            > Wait, what is she asking?

                                            > "Anon, w-will you be my boyfriend?"

                                            > The whole room grows silent as everyone waits for you to answer.

                                            > You NEED to tell her no, but for some reason, you couldn't.  It would never work between you.  Anyone with eyes could see that this would only end in tears.  And yet.

                                            > Even though she was the polar opposite of you in nearly every way.  There was something strangely attractive about that.  Like two ends of a magnet.

                                            > As you look at her, she desperately needed you to tell her something, anything.  Realizing you've been sitting there completely gobsmacked, you speak up.

                                            "I don't know what to say.  I really don't."

                                            > "I do.  Turn her down."  Adagio says.

                                            > "Adagio, I may put up with a lot of things, but this is not one of them."

                                            > "You put up with them because I'm the leader."

                                            > "You can't tell me who I can and can't love."

                                            > "I CAN, and I WILL.  Have you thought about this at all?"

                                            "Yeah, Sonata.  Even if I said yes, I wouldn't want you to continue doing 'this.'"

                                            > "See!"

                                            > "I can make money doing other stuff."

                                            > "Yeah, like what?"

                                            > "I can sing.  I can make money doing that."

                                            > "Not nearly as much as you do now."

                                            > You needed to stop this.  It was against your better judgment, but you'd be damned if you didn't get a say in this.

                                            "Adagio, do you trust your sister?"


                                            > "That's a loaded question, and you know it."  She replies sternly.

                                            "A question that needs an answer."

                                            > She mumbles and grumbles a little before replying.

                                            > "Yes, even though I shouldn't."

                                            "So you trust she can make her own decisions."

                                            > "With my permission."

                                            "Well, I'm in favor of dating your sister, and you can't tell me what to do.  So how about it?"

                                            > "Ugh, fine.  Here's your fee for bringing her back.  Now leave me alone.  All of you."

                                            > "Yay, I win."

                                            > Aria didn't need to be told twice before vanishing.  While Sonata immediately turns to you and gives you a passionate kiss.  You were caught off-guard by her sudden boldness but quickly adapt to her movements.

                                            > "I so happy, Anon.  I can't wait to show you my appreciation."  She teases in a sultry voice.

                                            > "Not here you're not.  If you're not on the clock, I'm not letting you use one of our suites."

                                            > "Can't I do it with him right here?"

                                            > "No!  I need to work, and I can't do that while watching you."

                                            > "You could always join, Dagi.  I don't mind."

                                            > "We've been over this."  She says with growing frustration.

                                            > "Ohh."  Sonata says suddenly.

                                            > "Looks like someone likes that idea."  She muses while looking and touching a certain part of you.

                                            > Things were moving so quickly you didn't notice.  You attribute it to hormones, but then again, she did offer both of her sisters to you.  Multiple times.

                                            > "Since we're both in the mood, let's go home and do magical things together."

                                            "We can't.  Remember?"

                                            > "Darn it, you're right!"

                                            > "Just go to the alleyway out back or whatever.  The faster you're out of here, the better."  Adagio complains.

                                            > "That's gross, Dagi.  I'm not some curbside whore.  Plus, I want Anon's first time to be special."

                                            "We could always go to my place.  Although, we're going to have to call a cab."

                                            > "Take my car.  Get out.  Now!"  Adagio commands while throwing her keys."

                                            > "I'll drive.  Come on, boyfriend.  Our chariot awaits."

                                            > She pulls you up and rushes you out the door.  Struggling to contain her excitement.

                                            > "Thank god,"  Adagio huffs.  Before reaching into her desk and grabbing her favorite toy.

                                            > "Fucking horny animals."

                                            > Adagio's wheels were a significant step up from your ride.  Not that you were surprised.

                                            > A Herrera Outlaw GTS with a custom paint job.  Primarily black with orange hotrod flames on the front.

                                            > Once you were both in, Sonata puts the keys in the ignition but doesn't turn the car on.

                                            > "You know.  No one will bother us here if we lock the doors."  She suggests while leaning towards you.

                                            "As much as I relish the idea.  I don't think we'd be able to get the stains out afterward."

                                            > The mental image makes her shiver, but she mentally shrugs it off.

                                            > "Fuck, you really know how to get a girl going."  She laments before peeling out of the parking lot.


                                            > Next thing you knew, you were home.  Carrying Sonata to your bedroom as she clings to you like a monkey.  On top of giving her smooches all the way there.

                                            > She tries to pull you down onto the bed, but a sharp pain shoots down your back as she does this, causing you to yelp from the shock and tumble into the sheets.

                                            > "Are you okay."

                                            "Yeah," you exhale.  "Hand me my painkillers; they're in the nightstand."

                                            > She hands you the container, and you pop a few pills.

                                            "Got to be careful with my back.  I still haven't healed yet."

                                            > "But Anon, you need your back for what we're going to do."

                                            "I know.  Just don't surprise me like that again, and we'll be good."

                                            > "Which begs the question.  What should we do first?"

                                            "I don't know.  You're the expert.  How do you normally..."

                                            "Start."  You ask, embarrassed.

                                            > "I don't know either.  I just do what I get paid to do.  There's almost never any in-between  So I'll let you decide.  Since this is my way of thanking you after all."

                                            "Then, we should start slow.  Would you mind giving me a strip-tease?"

                                            > "Sure thing."

                                            > You get comfy near the top of the bed while Sonata gets off and begins her task at the foot of the bed.

                                            > It was almost hard to believe.  Only a few hours ago you saved her life, and now this cute and curvy temptress was now under your complete control.

                                            > She starts to dance a little, similarly to the way she did the first time you met.

                                            > Swinging her chest around, allowing it to bob and bounce inside her tight-fitting shirt.

                                            > Shaking her hips at you, as her skirt barely contains her butt.

                                            > The sight makes you lick your lips in anticipation.  You felt like a kid looking through the window at a toy store.  Desperately wanting to touch and play with everything.

                                            > Sonata playfully tugs at the edges of her clothes as her hands caress her feminine features.

                                            > The shirt is first to go.  Agonizingly, you watch as she lifts the cloth, ogling her tits as they escape from their fabric prison.

                                            > They were perfect.  Not too big, not too small, and firm with no sag to speak of.

                                            > She giggles, as she jostles them together to demonstrate their springiness.

                                            > "You like my boobs, Anon?"

                                            "Like doesn't even come close to how I would describe those."

                                            > "Then, you'll love this too."

                                            > She turns around and shimmies out of her miniskirt.  Giving you a perfect view as she shakes her ass for you.

                                            > You didn't realize until now, but she wasn't wearing any underwear.  Top or bottom.

                                            > "Now what?"

                                            > You simply raise a finger and beckon her closer.

                                            > Wearing nothing but a smile, she crawls leisurely up the bed.

                                            > Taking the time to tease you, as the tips of her nipples grazed gently against your pants.  A surge of lust fires up your leg and takes hold of your crotch.  Causing it to pulse and leak ever so slightly.


                                            > She was now only a foot away, and you could see the growing hunger in her eyes.

                                            > "Here I am.  What's next?"

                                            "Kiss me."

                                            > Wasting no time, she cups your cheeks with her hands and smothers your face.  With your hands free, you explore the smooth valley of her back before taking hold of her plump butt.

                                            > She moans into your mouth as you knead her cheeks like dough and lets out a short yip when you give her a playful spank.

                                            > "Anon, I don't think I've ever been this horny in my life.  Tell me to do something sexy.  Anything.  I need you.  I need you NOW!"

                                            > You wanted her too.  Every fiber of your being wanted to pin her down and force her to take everything you had.  But your training superseded it.  Helping you to keep your composure.

                                            > You were in command, not her.  At this moment, she would do anything for you, and she would do it happily.

                                            "If you're that eager to do something.  Why don't you suck my dick?"

                                            > She quickly withdraws to your waist, where she wastes no time fishing out your dick.

                                            > "Oh."  She says unexpectedly.

                                            "What is it?"

                                            > "Your cock is so normal."

                                            "Normal?"

                                            > "Yeah, guys I do it with usually have some type of mods done to them.  Crazy length enhancements, added bumps, or at least some piercings."

                                            > "But yours seems so natural by comparison."

                                            "Do you think I should get those things done?"  Suddenly feeling subconscious.

                                            > "No way.  Every time I did it with one of those jerks, it hurt like hell, and it's not because they didn't soften me up with some foreplay first.  I'm pretty sure their monster dicks would hurt no matter what they did."

                                            > "Besides, it's not the size of the tool; it's how you use it.  Right, Anon?"

                                            "Right."

                                            > "Now, where was I?"  She knowingly muses.

                                            > Softly holding your manhood with the tips of her finger, she drags her wet tongue along the underside of your cock from the base all the way to the top.

                                            > Once there, she stops for a second to taste the cum trickling out of your urethra.

                                            > Smattering your tip with kisses, you shudder as your glands adjust to these new sensations.  All the while, never breaking eye contact.

                                            > Testing the waters of your endurance and probing certain spots for weaknesses.

                                            > An expert of her craft, making sure to leave no stone unturned.  Or, in this case, no surface unsucked.

                                            > Not satisfied with pleasing you alone, she uses her free hand to entertain herself as well.  Taking several of her fingers and shoving them inside her love tunnel to stave off her growing desire.

                                            > You lose track of time, as Sonata begins to hastily deepthroat your cock with wild abandon.  Eager to finish her appetizer and move on to the main course.

                                            > Sensing the end was near, she lets go of your length with her lips and deliberately strokes your girth to keep up the growing tension.

                                            > "Where do you want it?"

                                            "Inside.  Take it all."  You answer under long, labored breaths.


                                            > More than happy to oblige you, she resumes her prior task of vacuuming out your sinful essence.

                                            > As the pleasure you feel skyrockets, all you could do in response was moan louder and louder until you reached the point of no return.

                                            > Never, had you ever, felt such pure bliss.  Every instinct culminated at that moment to raw orgasmic ecstasy.  A feeling that Sonata was all too happy to prolong and enjoy.

                                            > You didn't know how she did it, but somehow she was able to chug every ounce of lifeblood you had discharged into her.

                                            > More than satisfied with her work, she licks her lips and asks you a devilish question.

                                            > "Tasty.  Can I have more?"

                                            "You can have as much as you want."  You say, excited for more.

                                            > "Good, cause I'm really close, and I want you to finish me off before we start playing for real."

                                            > Ascending to the top of the mattress, she straddles your face and instructs you to suck her clit.  You do as your told, and not a minute later, she's drowning you with a flood of her nectar.

                                            > Not content with one climax, Sonata flips over and spreads her pussy with one hand.  Urging you to make her yours while resting against the headboard.

                                            > With no lingering doubts, you take it and complete your journey into manhood.

                                            > The two of you scream in happiness as you push in and out of her restrictive walls.  You didn't believe your peers when they said that sex was the best thing ever.

                                            > You thought they were exaggerating their stories as a means of increasing their social status; how wrong you were.

                                            > Sonata locks her legs around you to keep you close.  While you lean over and grab the bed frame for added leverage.

                                            > Looking down at her, you watch as every thrust sends waves of pleasure through her body, causing her breasts to bounce and jiggle enticingly in front of you.

                                            > Giving in to temptation, you pick her up and pin her against the wall.  Lifting her up and down gradually as you attempt to suck on her tits.

                                            > Finding it difficult to perform both tasks, you throw her back onto the bed.  Placing your hands on her shoulders, you hold her in place while your lower half hammers away and your mouth clamps down on her breasts.

                                            > With the inability to stop or slow your pace, Sonata quickly becomes a blubbering mess of words and fluids.  Not even the bed helped soften blows your dick were giving her cervix.

                                            > Realizing your climax was fast approaching, you redouble your already extreme efforts to hasten your inevitable finisher.

                                            > If Sonata objected, you couldn't tell, not that you would have stopped for her anyway.  The sensation of fucking her brains out was just too good.

                                            > With a few more hard thrusts, you cum inside her.  Having sensitive nerve endings following your second ejaculation, you gently wane your thrusts to ride out the high.


                                            > With your stamina depleted, you plump down on the bed next to her, trying to catch your breath.

                                            > It wasn't until you hit the bed did you realize that you may have pushed yourself too far.  Even lying there, completely still, your back was starting to act up again.

                                            > "Anon.  That was amazing.  Can you do that again?"  She says.  Her voice, quivering ever so slightly.

                                            "I'd love to, but I don't think I can."

                                            > "Well, this guy seems like he's ready for more."  She states while holding your still erect cock in hand.

                                            "I mean my back.  I think I'm going to have to lie here for a minute."

                                            > "You mean we're done already?"

                                            > You'd hate for it to end like this.  It was your first time, after all, and you wanted more, but your body wasn't having it.

                                            "Sonata, there's nothing I'd like more than to keep going, but If you want more, then you're going to take charge."

                                            > "Hmm, I think I can do that."

                                            > Sitting up, she straddles your waist and begins rubbing her entrance against your still hard rod.

                                            > "Are you sure you can handle it?  I can be pretty wild when I want to be."

                                            "Babe, if I can't walk for a month after this, it'll be worth it."

                                            > "That's the spirit!"

                                            > Needing no more confirmation, she quickly impales herself on you and begins riding you like a bucking bronco.  She wasn't kidding when she said she liked to go hard.


                                            > Nearly an hour later, and several low effort positions on your part later, Sonata was ready to call it quits.  The sex itself was great, but you couldn't help but feel like you would have enjoyed it more had you been a more active participant.

                                            > As the two of you cuddled in bed, Sonata started asking questions about you.  Since all she ever talked about in the short time you've known each other is herself.

                                            > "I noticed you have a lot of scars, Anon.  Where'd you get them all?"

                                            "Dogfights in skirmishes against other gangs mostly.  I remember almost all of them.  Want to hear them?"

                                            > "Sure."

                                            "Pick one."

                                            > "This one."  She chooses, touching your right hamstring.

                                            "Car explosion when I was fourteen years old.  We were raiding a Storm Ruler stronghold when a guy walked out carrying a Gatling gun."

                                            "He reduced the car I was using as cover to swiss cheese, and when it exploded, it nearly killed me.  Luckily, the shrapnel lodged itself into my femur, so they were able to save my leg."

                                            > The look on Sonata's face was one of disbelief.  Mostly shocked and somewhat horrified.

                                            "Most of them are stories of that caliber.  Want to hear more?"

                                            > "No.  I'm good."

                                            > Sensing you had somehow soured the mood, you inquire further.

                                            "Did I say something wrong?"

                                            > "That sounds really scary.  Weren't you afraid you were gonna die?"

                                            "Of course.  I could die at any time, for any number of reasons, but if I do, it'll be for something I chose.  Not everyone can say that."

                                            > "And what did you choose?"


                                            "To live and die for someone else's happiness.  And that meant I had to become a criminal, to fight and grow stronger every day."

                                            "For years, I was miserable, and all I thought about was what I'd do if I could quit.  That is, until recently."

                                            "My mother acknowledged my suffering and shared it with me.  Thanks to that, I found meaning and purpose in my work.  Now, I feel like I couldn't stop even if I wanted to."

                                            > "Would you do it if I asked?"  She pleads.

                                            "She's my mother.  I've known her my whole life.  You, I've met twice.  Having sex doesn't change that."

                                            > "I know, but this city is dangerous.  If we had enough money, we could leave and live somewhere safer."

                                            "You're right, but that's not the life for me.  You're part of the Sirens, and I'm part of the Black Shadows.  It may sound crazy, but being part of a gang is the safest option in this town."

                                            "Your sisters will protect you, and now so will I."

                                            > She smiles and gives you a soft kiss.

                                            > "I'm going to hold you to that."

                                            > Finding comfort in your words, she rests her head against your chest and wanders off to dreamland.  You were feeling pretty tired too.  It was a little early for you to be calling it a day, but with Sonata glued to you, you weren't going anywhere.


                                            > The next thing you hear is some sounds emanating from the kitchen.  Looking over at your clock, you see it's just past noon.  A few hours before you normally got up, but that's not what you were worried about.

                                            > If your mother saw you like this, she might do something drastic.  Sneaking out from under Sonata, you throw on some casual shorts and a wifebeater before heading to the kitchen.

                                            > "Good morning.  You're up early."  Your mother greets you.

                                            "Yeah, went to bed early too."

                                            > "You feeling alright?  Back acting up at all?"

                                            "A little, yeah.  Say, can we talk?"

                                            > "Sure.  Here."  She says, handing you a cup of coffee.

                                            "I met someone the other day."

                                            > "Someone I know?"

                                            "No, her name's Sonata.  Really cute and bubbly.  She's with the Sirens, but she herself is relatively harmless."

                                            > "The Sirens aren't harmless, son.  Whatever notions you have about this woman are wrong.  Most of them may work as strippers and joytoys, but the second you let your guard down, they'll slit your throat."

                                            "Not this one.  She's more of a victim of circumstance, like any civilian.  I'd like you to meet her?"

                                            > "Why?  What does she have to offer us if she's a victim."

                                            "Personal fulfillment."

                                            > "If you're suggesting we help some hooker down on her luck, you should know what my answer will be."

                                            "I do, but that's not what I'm asking."

                                            > As you take a sip of your drink, the door to your room swings open.  Seeing Tempest tense up, you knew exactly what was going to happen.  In the blink of an eye, your mother reaches for the knife block and throws a single dagger.

                                            > Having no time to stop her, you throw your mug and intercept the deadly blade in midair.  Causing coffee to spill everywhere.


                                            > Completely oblivious to what just happened, Sonata offers a humble 'good morning.'

                                            > "Why did you do that?  Who are you?  How did you get in here?"

                                            > Before your mother could throw another knife, you stand up and shield Sonata.

                                            "Mom, relax.  This is Sonata, my girlfriend."

                                            > "Hi."  She says flatly.  Still in the process of waking up.

                                            > "Girlfriend?  You just said she's with the Sirens.  Why are you conspiring with the enemy?  How long has this been going on?"

                                            "We just made it official yesterday.  And it's not like that."

                                            > "So you're saying that you didn't sleep with her.  Even though she just came out of your room wearing nothing but your jacket."

                                            "I'm not saying that.  I'm saying I'm not conspiring against you."

                                            > "Then explain why you slept with this hussy."

                                            "She offered, and I like her.  What was I going to say, no?"

                                            > "Yes.  I trained you better than to be seduced by some streetworker's feminine whiles.  Now get her out."

                                            "Mom, calm down.  I know I just sprang this on you, but don't exacerbate the situation."

                                            > "We'll talk about this later, but for now, she needs to leave."

                                            > "Did I miss something?"  Sonata inquires.

                                            "She's staying."

                                            > "No, she's not."

                                            > She walks towards you, and you step in front of her.  She attempts to push you aside, but you grab hold of her wrist before it makes contact.

                                            "Let it go."

                                            > Without making eye contact, Tempest moves to counter your grapple, but you spin her around and grab her other arm.  Crossing her arms and locking them against her chest.

                                            "Why are you being so difficult about this?"

                                            > Still not answering, Tempest's body begins to violently fluctuate.  Loosening your grip little by little until she breaks free.

                                            > She jabs you with her right elbow before swing her left into the side of your head.  You stumble but swing your fist at her face as you regain your balance.

                                            > She ducks underneath your attack and marches towards Sonata with hostile intent.

                                            > Being too focused on her target, you slip behind her and put her in a full nelson.

                                            "GET OUT OF HERE, SONATA!"

                                            > "Can't we talk about this?"  Sonata begs.

                                            "You can't reason with her when she's like this.  We'll talk later, but for now, run!  I'll hold her off."

                                            > Sonata darts for the door as Tempest struggles to loosen your hold on her.  She manages to pull you towards the spilled coffee on the floor.  Making you lose your footing.

                                            > She swings her legs up and locks her thighs around your head.  She pulls at you with all her strength, and judo flips you onto the ground.

                                            > Now, free of your grasp, Tempest tries to pursue Sonata, but you grab her ankle as she runs by you.  She slips and falls, but catches herself just before her face kisses the floorboards.

                                            > Yanking her back, she spins her legs for a roundhouse kick, but you catch her attack with your other hand.

                                            > Having both limbs in hand, you whip her back into the kitchen, where she rolls and lands on her hind legs.


                                            > You had never seen her this angry.  It was rare enough to see any emotion on her face, but it was even more unusual to see her so worked up about something pertaining to you.

                                            > She makes her way to the loveseat and tosses it at you as if it were tissue paper.

                                            > Not thinking, you lash out your monowire and cut the furniture in half as the pieces of it fly past you.

                                            > With your vision obstructed, Tempest charges and shoulder tackles you into the couch, leaving you dazed.  Thinking she's won, she gets up and attempts to make a break for it.

                                            > Shaking off the impact, you lunge at her again and grapple her from behind.  Pulling her into a bear hug, you roll around on the rug as she squirms desperately to get free.

                                            > Once on your back, you wrap your legs around hers to prevent her from kicking out.

                                            > "W-wait, Anon."  She pleads.

                                            "Yield!"

                                            > You tighten your grip around her, and you can feel the resistance she's putting up begin to fade.

                                            > "N-no, stop."

                                            > She lets out a small moan, but you thought nothing of it.  Putting all your power into holding her tight.

                                            > "Ah, Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh."  This time, her screams come through loud and clear.  They weren't ones of pain or agony, however, but far more guttural.

                                            > Realizing what was happening, you release her in an instant.  The two of you roll onto your sides and steadily stand up.  Too embarrassed to say anything.

                                            > "I told you to stop."

                                            "I know.  I just didn't think you meant..."  You say, unsure of how you wanted to finish that sentence.

                                            > "That's why I wear armor.  To protect them from rubbing up against something."

                                            "Have you... calmed down now?"

                                            > "I'm still angry, but forget about that for now.  I'm going to shower up.  Then, we'll discuss what to do about your 'situation.'"

                                            > As she makes her way towards her room, the adrenaline coursing through your veins begins to fade.  And the discomfort in your back starts to surge like a tsunami.

                                            > You couldn't help be let out a short howl of distress as you plant yourself on the couch.

                                            > "What's wrong?  Are you alright?"

                                            "Just some muscle spasms.  It'll pass."

                                            > "I'm sorry.  I got you all worked up.  It's my fault.  I'll go get your meds."

                                            > She brings you the container, and you inhale one of the capsules.

                                            > "I think we should skip your rehab today."

                                            "I think so too."

                                            > "Need anything else?"

                                            "I'm fine.  I'll wait for you here."

                                            > Content with your answer, she retreats to her chambers to freshen up.

                                            > Not exactly how you planned to resolve your predicament, but you suppose it could have been worse.


                                            > Your talks with Tempest after the incident weren't very fruitful.  She was too embarrassed at the time to ask any questions of a personal nature.  Primarily because of your accidental experience with her.  You did get her to promise to apologize, but that was it.

                                            > Later that night, you stood waiting along the sidewalk, patiently.  Biding your time, you purchase a caffeinated drink from a machine to help build up energy.

                                            > "There he is.  What's good, man?"  Thunderlane asks.

                                            "Nothing.  And you're late.  Again."

                                            > "If I'm late so much, I'd say I'm right on time.  How's your back doing?"

                                            > He attempts to slap your lower back, but you block it with your hand in a makeshift high-five.

                                            "Fine.  Thanks for asking.  Now, are you ready to go?"

                                            > "Can't sit still for one second, can you?"

                                            "We have people waiting for us, and I know you all have other things you'd rather be doing.  I feel the same way."

                                            > The two of you start walking, but Thunderlane jumps ahead of you with a puzzled look on his face.

                                            > "You've got places to be?  First time I'm hearing it."

                                            "What can I say.  I've changed over the past few months; in more ways than one."

                                            > "But you're still a bitch momma's boy."

                                            "Least MY mother respects me?"

                                            > He doesn't offer a retort, and his face grows more and more perplexed.

                                            > "You don't seem that different.  What do you got going on after this anyway?  Another mission?"

                                            "A date."

                                            > "Wiiiiiith?"

                                            "My girlfriend."

                                            > Thunderlane's reaction made you think his head was going to explode when you said that.

                                            > "Get the fuck outta here.  What bitch would be desperate enough to bang you?"

                                            > You always hated your interactions with Thunderlane.  Most other gang members were smart enough not to talk down to you; because you outranked them.  But since Thunderlane was your equal, he made it a point to show everybody what a stiff you were.

                                            "A bitch smart enough not hang around street trash like you."

                                            > "Where'd you meet her?  At the hospital?  Some old hag of a nurse jerk you off, even though you couldn't feel it?"

                                            "I met her doing a job, and I saved her life.  Now, she thinks I'm her guardian angel."

                                            > The last thing you needed to tell him was that she was a joytoy.  You'd never hear the end of it if he found out.

                                            > "So, she's acting like a princess who thinks some knight in shining armor has come to sweep her off her feet?  Boy, is she going to be disappointed."

                                            "Still not as thick as you, Blunderlane."

                                            > The two of you continue to bicker and quip at each other until you reach your destination.


                                            > When you get there, a small group of hustle awaited you in a back alley.  Your objective for today, collect protection fees while investigating a shopping plaza for tampering or espionage.

                                            > Your group roles out like a convoy and parks on the sidewalk when you arrive.  Doing so gives you some cover in case of an ambush and is a show of force saying that you own the place.

                                            > Any and all potential customers make themselves scarce when you showed up, making your job much easier.

                                            "Fan out.  You see anything suspicious; you holler, understood?"

                                            > The men take up positions around the perimeter while you and Thunderlane begin the process of shaking down the store owners.

                                            > He would do the talking while you scanned the stalls.

                                            > A few stands in, one of the managers was bold enough to start talking back.

                                            > "Why are you doing this?  You're making it impossible to make your payments when you scare our customers away like that!"

                                            > "We're not that scary.  Besides, we're offering an essential service here.  We came all this way to make sure you all were safe.  The least you could do is show a little gratitude."

                                            > "It's BECAUSE OF YOU that we AREN'T safe."

                                            > Thunderlane kicks over a moveable table and looms over the distraught man.

                                            > "That's a really mean thing to say.  You hurt my feelings.  And when my feelings get hurt, I lash out."

                                            > Thunderlane takes a clothes rack and chucks it out onto the sidewalk.

                                            > "I think you should apologize."

                                            > "Thunderlane.  Anon.  We got trouble."  One of your underlings communicates to you via phone.

                                            "What is it?"

                                            > "Someone called the badges, and they were stupid enough to show up."

                                            "Keep them busy we're on our way.  In the meantime, make sure no one leaves the area, we're not done yet."

                                            > As it turns out, only a single patrol car was present at the entrance.  One of the deputies was talking to one of your men, and the other was speaking into his radio at their vehicle.

                                            > "What seems to be the problem, officers?"  Thunderlane says casually.

                                            > "We received a report of a public disturbance in this area, and all of you here are in violation of us conducting an investigation."

                                            > "Well, somebody is lying to you.  Besides, I'm a free man, blue.  I pay my taxes.  Which means I can go where I want.  So why don't you go on your way and help some little old lady cross the street."

                                            > "I'm your better civilian.  And you will show me the respect I deserve."

                                            > The two proud men approach each other with hostile intent.  If you didn't step in, things were going to get nasty.  You needed to defuse the situation and fast.

                                            "THUNDERLANE!"  You shout.  Stopping him dead in his tracks.

                                            "Stand down."

                                            > "I don't take orders from you.  Especially, those coming from-"

                                            > As you step forward, you draw your pistol and aim right between his eyes.  Cutting him off before he could finish his sentence.

                                            > Everyone else also draws their weapons, but otherwise, don't say or do anything.


                                            "You're lucky I don't blow you away for being the most despicable piece of shit alive.  Now, finish up what we were doing, and I'll handle this."

                                            > Reluctantly, he submits and makes his way back to the marketplace with one of your men.

                                            "Sorry about that.  My colleague is a dumbass and doesn't know how to properly talk to people."

                                            > With both their iron still drawn, he answers you.

                                            > "Regardless of what he said, you're all still interfering with the law."

                                            "Do you know about the mysterious explosions that have been happening?"

                                            > "How do you know about those?"  The man asks, bewildered by the sudden change in topic.

                                            "They're caused by nanomachines created by Militech.  We believe that the Storm Rulers are in league with them.  Using the munitions on their enemies.  That is why me and my 'friends' are patrolling the area for potential targets."

                                            > "That doesn't..."

                                            > "I still need to know-"

                                            "No, you don't.  Unless this is your first day, you should know how this works.  You don't interfere with business, except when someone dies.  Everything up until then is not your concern."

                                            "Besides, you two are alone, and I don't want to have to kill you.  And you don't want to have to fill out a bunch of paperwork.  So let's leave at that and continue living our lives without all that hassle."

                                            > "You got a name, son?"

                                            "Anon."

                                            > "Well, Anon.  It's your lucky day.  I'm going to let this little incident slide, but just this once.  Don't make me regret it."

                                            > He finally holsters his gun and turns to make his way back to his car.

                                            "Have a good night, officers."

                                            > As the two policemen enter the vehicle, you scan their faces to make note of who they were.

                                            > Their ICE blocked you from getting their names, but you had their faces locked in.

                                            > As you were doing so, you notice a strange liquid pooled around one of their tires.  You were sure it wasn't there a minute ago, and there was too much it to be from the exhaust.  Then, how did it get there?  The fact that any water was present on the street baffled you even more.

                                            > It hadn't rained in weeks, and you were nowhere near any sewage spouts to create runoff.  That's when you thought you noticed it move.

                                            > (BOOM)

                                            > The car explodes with enough force to knock you off your feet.  You cover your face as you are hurled towards the ground.

                                            > Shrapnel digs into your clothes and skin, but nothing pierces your flesh.

                                            > Quickly scrambling to your feet, you survey the area.  As far as you could tell, no one was around, and no more of that substance was present.


                                            > "What happened!?"  Thunderlane yells while running onto the scene.

                                            > "Motherfucker, did you kill those pigs!?  I wanted to do that."

                                            "No, but their backup won't know that, and when they get here, they won't be asking questions.  We have to disperse."

                                            > "You afraid of a few fuzz.  I say, let'em come.  We'll be waiting."

                                            "Our job is to patrol and collect our cut, not get into shootouts with the law."

                                            > "And I say, we show everyone here who owns this turf.  And we do it loud and proud."

                                            "That car exploded because our enemies are nearby.  If we cause a scene, we'll be like fish in a barrel."

                                            > "Is this what you do every time something happens?  Turn tail and run home?  Because a REAL Black Shadow stands and fights when trouble comes knocking.  So you're either with us or against us."

                                            > You look around, and everyone else seems to be siding with Thunderlane.  Not that you're surprised.

                                            "Fine, you do what you want, but I'm not going to be a part of it.  Any last words to your brother before you go and get yourself killed?"

                                            > "Yeah, don't be a bitch, like Anon."

                                            "I'm sure that'll be some great comfort to him when they write that on your gravestone."

                                            > And like that, you storm off.

                                            > In the heat of the moment, you nearly forgot that someone had to be controlling those nanomachines.  A Storm Ruler, most likely, but where?

                                            > You weren't sure how far the range was on these things, but you figured that the operator had to be within line of sight to be effective.

                                            > A netrunner could use surveillance cameras, but they'd have to hack into the city mainframe to see in real-time.  Unless they were hooked up to a local terminal to avoid getting traced.

                                            > You look up and don't see any cameras aside from the ones hanging from traffic lights, and those couldn't move.

                                            > Meaning...

                                            > (BOOM)

                                            > As soon as you left the area, you hear the marketplace roar like a clap of thunder as the air erupts into a small mushroom cloud of flames.

                                            > Overlooking a ledge, you survey the damage.  The convoy was destroyed, and all that was left was the blown-out husks of their frames.

                                            > Charred pieces of your squadmates littered the ground like overdone steak.  You would have said a few words in their honor if you felt like they deserved it, but they didn't, so you don't.

                                            > As you scour the wreckage, you notice a figure skulking in the shadows above you.  Once you take notice of him, he darts up the fire escape like a frightened kitten.

                                            > You give chase, but without your grappling hook, you decide to stay streetside.  Following him to the more urban areas, he attempts to leap from one rooftop to the next.

                                            > He misjudges the distance and slams face-first into the metal wall.  You watch as he desperately tries to get back up, only to fail and begin ping-ponging down at least six stories.


                                            > With your weapon drawn, you close in and prep for a close encounter, only to be disappointed when you reached him.

                                            > A bloody smear on the ground oozed out from a part of his face that caved in during his fall, not to mention his neck was twisted much further than was possible.

                                            > The bastard was dead, which meant you couldn't interrogate him for information.  Hopefully, he was carrying something that could tell you where he was going and how he got those nanomachines.

                                            > Holstering your gun, you prop him up and begin taking stock of his possessions.  Aside from a few weapons, he wasn't holding anything that would give you a clue.

                                            > That is until you pulled out a data shard from his neck.  It looked a little worse for wear because of the fall, but you slot it in easily enough.

                                            > Inside, it contained a list of locations.  Storehouses, areas of interest along the borders of rival gangs, and a map of the sewage tunnels.  Some of the data had been corrupted, but you could tell where he was going.

                                            > A storage locker a couple blocks up the road, time to see if you hit paydirt.

                                            > Scouting the area, you find no signs of traps or gangbangers to contend with.  Only a single security camera overlooking the entrance.

                                            > Taking no chances, you give Grubber a call for extra backup.

                                            > "Yello?"

                                            "Grubber, I need you to hack into the Kowalski Lockers on Judith and 12th."

                                            > "Alright, might I ask why?"

                                            "I think the Storm Rulers are using one of the lockers as an armory.  Can you hack the mainframe and see if it's being monitored?"

                                            > "Can do."

                                            > You wait a minute as he does his thing before he offers a response.

                                            > "Doesn't look like it, from what I can tell."

                                            "Then, can you shut off the cameras while you're in there?"

                                            > "Done."

                                            "Thanks."

                                            > Wasting no time, you enter the building and locate the unit in question.

                                            > "Say, how'd you find out about this place?"

                                            "Picked it off the corpse of a guy who killed my squad."

                                            > "Your squad?  You mean the group you and Thunderlane were leading?"

                                            "Yeah, they're all dead.  The guy used nanomachines to do it.  With any luck, I'll find some here and return the favor."

                                            > You open the garage door and quickly close it behind you.  When you flipped the lights on, you do a double-take to make sure you weren't hallucinating.

                                            > Militech.  The whole thing was filled with the stuff.  Crates of all shapes and sizes filled the little metal box with everything you could imagine.  You let out a short whistle of amazement.

                                            > "What do ya got?"

                                            "What don't I have?  Rocket launchers, rifles, mines, armor, medical equipment, the whole nine yards."

                                            > "Better get that stuff out of there quick.  Who knows who will show up to take inventory.  I'll send a team your way.  In the meantime, you hang back and keep watch."

                                            "I've got a better idea.  You do that while I go give our neighbors a thank you present."

                                            > "Kid, we've done this once before.  Don't go looking for a fight you can't win."

                                            "You worry too much.  I'm older and wiser now."


                                            "Besides, I've got the perfect weapon now, and the perfect target."

                                            > Grubber just sighs in resignation.

                                            > "Why do I even bother."

                                            "One last thing, I flicking you the detes I found earlier.  See if you can rally the troops to these locations while I'm running my errands.  If we're lucky, we'll put the Storm Rulers back on the defensive after tonight."

                                            > "Wow.  You really hit the jackpot, kid.  If this map is accurate, I've got a lot of calls to make.  I'll talk to you later."

                                            > He hangs up, and you find a particular container in the corner with exactly what you were looking for.

                                            > Grabbing what you can carry, you summon your car to your location and throw what you could carry into the trunk.  Time for some payback.

                                            > "Maelstrom Tower, this is Kathleen.  How can I help you?"

                                            "Yes, can you connect me to the Storm King?"

                                            > "I'm sorry, Mr. King isn't taking any calls right now."

                                            "This can't wait.  Tell him it's an urgent message from his son."

                                            > "Okay, one moment, please."

                                            > You sit patiently in your car as you await a response.

                                            > "Son!  How's your back doing?"

                                            "Fine, thanks for asking."

                                            > "Good to hear.  I look forward to breaking it again the next time we meet."

                                            "Do you recall what you said to me back at the Arena?  You said that the Black Shadows were nothing but a thorn in your side.  An ant on the side of the road for you to step on when the mood struck you."

                                            > "Yeah, I remember that.  I still can-"

                                            "No, you can't.  Not anymore."

                                            > "Someone's feeling even bigger in their britches now.  You better watch yourself, or else I might just have to pay you a visit."

                                            "In the flesh, or would you send more of your nanomachines after me."

                                            > There's a slight pause as he doesn't offer a rebuttal.

                                            "Yeah, I know about those.  And I also know you're sucking off Militech to get them.  I knew you were scum, but working for corporations is sad, even for you."

                                            > "So you think you've got it all figured out, do you?"

                                            "Enough to know how to take you down."

                                            > "Man, how does someone of my genes end so stupid?  I don't know how you learned about the nanomachines, but you're in over your head if you think you can stop me from acquiring and using them to my heart's content."

                                            "And how would you use them?  Like this?"

                                            > You enter a command into your metal gauntlet and trigger an explosion that rocks Maelstrom Tower.

                                            "That was the parkade, and by my estimates, should have weakened the structural integrity of your beloved skyscraper.  Leaving it compromised."

                                            "Which means you'll have to find somewhere else to perch your nest for the time being."

                                            > "Now, you listen here-"

                                            "No, YOU listen, you piece of worthless shit.  Consider this an act of war.  No longer will the Black Shadows be just 'a thorn in your side.'  We are equals that will fight tooth and nail for every inch of this city."

                                            "So, keep that in mind the next time you decide to take that ugly mug on the streets because the brighter you shine, the darker your shadow becomes."


                                            > Satisfied with your work, you hang up and get out of your car.

                                            > With that done, you decide to look over what goodies you swiped.

                                            > The rocket launcher was a nice score.  With the conflict to come, you were going to need superior firepower.

                                            > A bulletproof vest.  Good for soldiers, but not for someone who relied on mobility during combat.  You'd probably give it to one of your mother's captains.

                                            > And lastly, a medkit.  You weren't an expert in medicine, but even you could tell the stuff inside was insanely valuable.

                                            > You rummage through the various vials and bandages and read a particularly interesting drug.  You couldn't pronounce the name of it, but under the description, it was labeled a painkiller.

                                            > Neuroblockers, said to dampen the signals the nervous system sends when under duress.

                                            > Curious about its effects, you ingest one of the pills and wait.  What you were expecting was not even close to what happened.

                                            > A sudden tingling sensation reverberates through your whole body.  The same type of feeling you'd get if it were to 'fall asleep.'

                                            > The shallow pain from the injuries you gained earlier that night vanished.  You tap your arm and almost don't feel it.

                                            "Wow," is all you could say.

                                            > Feeling confident in its impact, you begin to test your abilities by performing a series of acrobatic feats.  Ones that you had been unable to manage with your back pain.

                                            > And you were elated to find that none of them posed a significant challenge.

                                            > You felt like a million eddies.  Like you could take on the world and laugh in its face.  As much as the thought excited you, you had another idea of how to spend your time.


                                            > "Welcome back, good lookin.  Here to see your girl?"

                                            "Yep, she here?"

                                            > "Sure is.  Go on in."

                                            > Thinking you'd find her downstairs, you were flabbergasted to see her working a pole.

                                            > "Oh, hey, Anon.  I know I said I'd give up working here, but Adagio said I have to work the floor until my new career takes off."

                                            > Makes sense; however, that didn't concern you at the moment.  Stepping onto the platform, you swing Sonata around into a romantic pose and makeout with her.

                                            > She doesn't resist; in fact, she goes on the offensive.  Snaking her tongue into your mouth, which you happily reciprocate.

                                            > "That was nice and all, but I'm on the clock."

                                            "Then we better put you to work."

                                            > Picking her up, you jump off the stage and begin carrying her to one of the club's luxury suites.

                                            > "Wow, Anon.  I thought your back was bothering you."

                                            "I got better, and I'm going to show you how much better."

                                            > Sonata giggles playfully as you enter the plush living space.  Prepared to give her a night she won't forget.


                                            > "You're boy really came through this time Temp."  Grubber said.

                                            > "Yes, he did."

                                            > She looks at you while she says this but doesn't even crack a smile.  Even in front of her captains and other most trusted allies.  She didn't lower her guard for even an instant.  At least on the outside, but on the inside, you could tell she was proud of you.

                                            > "The loss of Thunderlane is unfortunate, but this discovery more than makes up for it.  So far, we've been able to recover several hundred pounds of the Storm King's favorite toys."

                                            > "From what we can tell, there's still plenty out there, but this is an excellent start.  Not to mention everything else we've been able to steal."

                                            > "I know not all of you will agree, but in light of Anon's actions, I think now is the time."

                                            > Her top men look at each other with conflicting expressions.  Leaving you completely in the dark as to what she was referring to.

                                            > "Son, step forward."

                                            > You do as you're told, but stay on guard just in case this was a test.

                                            > Your mother reaches over and picks up a metal suitcase.  She opens it up and, to your surprise, pulls out your grappling hook.

                                            > "This was among the items we recovered in the last forty-eight hours.  I think you've earned the right to wear it again."

                                            > She hands it to you, and you slide it on.  Still fits like a glove.

                                            > "With this gift, I now grant you the title of captain.  You will be in charge of our Northwest district.  Since you are quite knowledgeable of the Sirens.  Thus, you will be the best one to manage future endeavors between them and us."

                                            > "I've waited for this day for a long time, and now, I'm pleased to say you've earned it.  Congratulations."

                                            > You didn't know what to say.  You were speechless.  As you glance at everyone, you take stock of their reactions.

                                            > It was an even split among them, meaning you still had work to do to gain their trust.  However, the two most important people, being your mother and Grubber, were well onboard.

                                            > You crack a smile and, without thinking, wrap your arms around your mother.

                                            > Her stiff reaction makes you recoil as you remember that you're in the presence of others.

                                            "T-thank you, commander."  You stumble to say as you attempt to play off your awkward faux pas.

                                            > Then, when you were least expecting it, she hugs you back.

                                            > "No.  Thank you, son."


                                            > "In commemoration of this day, we will celebrate.  Men, pull out all the stops.  I want this to be a night to remember."

                                            > The men roar with excitement as they begin to file out of the room, leaving you with Grubber and Tempest.

                                            "I thought for sure you were going to spend the next few hours grilling me about my new responsibilities."

                                            > "In the past, I would have, but today we will rejoice."

                                            "It may be asking too much, but do you mind if I ask Sonata to join us?"

                                            > Her demeanor sours as she bites her lip.  At odds with herself and how she felt versus what you wanted.

                                            > "Fine, but both of you must remain within my sight at all times.  I don't want the two of you using this occasion as an excuse to leave the festivities and have sex."

                                            > It still bothered you that your mother was so hostile towards Sonata, yet maybe tonight you could make your first baby steps towards an understanding.

                                            "Fine.  Where we having this shindig anyway?"

                                            > "The Memorial State Park.  All of our fallen comrades must witness this joyous event."

                                            > "Sounds like fun.  You guys go and enjoy that.  I'll be here if you need me."

                                            > "Grubbeeerrr."

                                            > "What?  You know, social outings aren't my thing.  I love the food, but not enough to have to put up with the people who go there."

                                            > "Don't make me have to pull rank, Grubber.  You're going, and that's final."

                                            > "Yes, ma'am."  He says, defeated.

                                            > "If it makes you feel any better, I'll have Sugarcube Corner cater the party and have them put it on my tab."

                                            > "Okay, but it's your funeral."


                                            > You weren't sure what you were expecting, but it sure as hell wasn't this.

                                            > What was normally a peaceful scenic vista was converted into a makeshift parking lot.  Dozens of cars all crammed together and blaring shitty rock music.

                                            > Trailers serving as makeshift bars, drag races on the strip, shooting competitions near the brush, and a bonfire, where all the illicit substances were being tossed around like candy.

                                            > Not exactly your scene, but what the hell.  Tonight was a night for cutting loose.

                                            > You head to the alternative style gun range and knock back a few shots before showing your stuff.  You've never drunk alcohol before, and you were already starting to feel its effects.

                                            > Your aim wasn't as steady, and your trigger finger wasn't as quick.  Now you understand why your mother demanded you never touch the stuff.

                                            > Deciding to quit while still mostly dry, you meander for a while when you notice a familiar face.  One that you were least expecting to show up.

                                            > A kid, far too young to be here, was getting harassed by some patrons who were already completely wasted.

                                            > "Please stop!"  He pleaded.

                                            > "If you want us to stop, then stop us."  The fully grown man said.

                                            > Keeping a level head, you march towards the group and contemplate the best way to defuse the situation.

                                            > You couldn't stand when someone abused their power over others.  You saw it all the time in this city, but that didn't mean you could do anything about it.  You had to pick your battles.

                                            > In this case, you had complete control, so playing the diplomat was your best option.

                                            "Is everything alright here?"

                                            > "Anon!"

                                            > "This b-baby thinks he can come to our party and do what h-he wants.  Just walk around like he owns the place."

                                            "Well, we can't have that.  I guess someone should make him leave."

                                            > "Yeah, but we got to teach him a lesson first."

                                            "I agree.  We should get the boss and make an example of him."

                                            > "T-That'd be great, b-but we don't know where she is."

                                            "Well, you're in luck.  I just saw her by the statue.  You guys tell her what's up, and I'll keep an eye on this runt."

                                            > "YEAH!"  They all shout in excitement before stumbling away, muttering things to themselves.

                                            "Fucking idiots.  You alright?"

                                            > "Yeah."  He says before picking himself up off the ground.

                                            "What are you doing here Rumble, this isn't a place for you."

                                            > "I overheard some guys going to a party, and I thought maybe they were going to commemorate my brother's death.  But all anyone is talking about is getting back at the Storm Rulers or getting new iron."

                                            > "They're not sad that my brother's dead or that I'm all alone now."


                                            > You felt bad for the kid.  He, too, was influenced by a family member who had made questionable life choices.  The only difference was, they were dead, and he was still a child.

                                            "So, what are you going to do now?"

                                            > "I came here to ask you something, Anon.  How are you going to remember him?"

                                            > That was a question you didn't want to answer, but given his situation, he needed to know the truth.

                                            "Listen, Rumble."  You say while kneeling and placing your hand on his shoulder.

                                            "I never liked Thunderlane, and the reason why he's dead is that he had a chip on his shoulder.  All he cared about was his status, whether it was killing people, banging hookers, or selling Glitter.  Even you were just a means to an end for him."

                                            > "How can you say that!?"  He says, angered while brushing off your shoulder.

                                            > "My brother was super cool.  People respected him, and he didn't take shit from nobody!"

                                            "And look where that got him.  He's dead, and he left you with nothing.  The only people who even recall or care he existed are you and me.  Is that how you want to live your life, Rumble?"

                                            > "I can do it.  I'll show you."

                                            > He reaches for his lower back, pulls out a pistol, and aims it at you.

                                            > "If I kill you, people will respect me.  And then everyone will remember my name."

                                            "No, they won't.  If you kill me, you'll never leave this place alive.  Look around you.  You're surrounded by people who have no idea who you are but recognize me as a leader."

                                            "The second you pull that trigger, your life is forfeit.  They'll torture in ways you can't even imagine.  You'll scream blood as they tear you limb from limb.  And not just you, but everyone you've ever known, your friends, parents, cousins, aunts, and uncles.  They'll all die because you were selfish enough to think your brother mattered."

                                            > "He does matter!  I loved him, and he loved me!"

                                            "Really?  And what did he do to prepare to follow in his footsteps?  He obviously didn't show you how to wield a gun."

                                            > "How do you know that?"

                                            "You're not practicing trigger discipline.  When holding a gun, you rest your index finger on the guard, not the trigger itself."

                                            > "That's because I'm going to shoot you."

                                            "Then do it."  You say, pulling the barrel to your head.

                                            > He hesitates.  Confused by your actions.

                                            "What are you waiting for?  DO IT!"

                                            > Steeling his resolve, he attempts to pull the trigger, only to find that it's stuck in place.  He squeezes as hard as he can several times before you swipe the weapon out of his hands.

                                            > "Hey, give that back!"

                                            "What are the five rules of engagement!?"

                                            > "The what?"

                                            "The five rules for fighting an enemy, what are they!?"

                                            > "I don't know."

                                            "Exactly.  Thunderlane never taught you anything."

                                            "He didn't teach you how to hold a gun."

                                            "He didn't teach you how to fight or kill someone."

                                            "And he most certainly didn't teach you to know when a gun's safety is on."


                                            > Embarrassed by his lack of knowledge, Rumble's demeanor completely deflates due to your schooling.

                                            "This life isn't for you, Rumble.  You still have a choice.  Follow in your brother's footsteps until it kills you or make something of your life."

                                            > "But I don't know any other life.  All I ever wanted was to be like Thunderlane.  What am I supposed to do?"

                                            "I can't tell you how to live your life, Rumble.  All I can tell you is that this isn't it.  Being a gangster isn't all it's cracked up to be.  I chose this life of my own volition, but I can't recommend it to anyone."

                                            "You're still a kid with your whole life ahead of you.  You don't need to have all the answers for a long time yet.  Go home.  Hug your mom.  Finish school.  Just don't be here."

                                            > "So that's it?  I'm just supposed to give up?  Pretend he didn't exist and move on to do something else?"

                                            "No, you should never forget him.  If you do, you'll end up making the same mistakes he did."

                                            > You take his pistol and hand it back to him.

                                            "It's never too late to change, Rumble.  You just have to be strong enough to want to."

                                            > He takes the gun, and while he examines it, you send him a couple of hundred eddies to his personal funds.

                                            "This should be enough to cover bus fares and keep you from going hungry.  Take some time to think about what I said."

                                            > "Thanks, Anon.  Even though you said all those bad things about Thunderlane, I can't hate you for them.  So, take this.  I'm not going to need it anymore."  He says, trying to hand back the pistol.

                                            "No.  It belonged to your brother, and he would have wanted you to have it.  Besides, you may need it one day; better to be safe than sorry."

                                            > Reluctantly, he holsters the weapon and turns to leave.

                                            > "I'll see you around, Anon."

                                            "Take care, Rumble."

                                            > After that emotional monsoon, you could use a drink.  Making your way to one of the trailers, you find your mother already knocking back the booze like water.

                                            > "Son, there you are.  I've been waiting.  Join me.  I wish to propose a toast."

                                            "Didn't take you for an alcoholic, mom."

                                            > "In a past life, I used to be a barkeep, so I'd serve and drink fairly often.  Made a mean margarita, which is why they used to call me Fizzlepop Berrytwist."

                                            "That's a hell of a name."

                                            > "Yes, now sit down."

                                            > You pulled up a lawn chair and watched as she poured two shot glasses of vodka.

                                            > "To new beginnings as equals and brighter tomorrows."

                                            > Her saying that made you think of Rumble.  He, too, had a chance for a better life thanks to you.  And Sonata would be auditioning for a vocalist somewhere shortly as well.  Life couldn't be much better.

                                            "To new beginnings."


                                            > You were never married to the idea that drinking made you feel better.  However, in your line of work, you never drank enough to test that theory.

                                            > Now that you're giving it a fair shot, it wasn't so bad.  Similar to sex, don't knock it til you try it.  Speaking of, you've been knocking back shots with your mother for a while now, and Sonata still hadn't shown up yet.

                                            > Your head was swimming, but you managed to send her a quick message.  She replied that she was here, and you tell her to meet you by the parked trailers.

                                            > "We should do this more often.  I haven't been this relaxed in years."  Tempest declares.

                                            "I'll drink to that."

                                            > The two of you clang your glasses together and gulp down another one.

                                            > Except, this was one too many.  The swirling in your head had made its way to your stomach, and you knew you weren't going to be able able to keep it down.

                                            > You stood up quickly and proclaimed.

                                            "Bathroom!"

                                            > "Go over to the bushes, son.  Let nature do its thing."

                                            > You stumbled away from the table and began desperately searching for these elusive bushes.

                                            > While you were away, a beautiful woman approaches.

                                            > "Excuse me, have you seen Anon?"  She asks the barkeep.

                                            > "There you are.  The hussy has arrived."

                                            > She turns, and to her displeasure, makes eye contact with Tempest.

                                            > "Oh, hello, Miss Shadow.  Is your son around?"

                                            > "He's busy dealing with his weak stomach.  One of the few things I didn't train.  Have a seat.  We'll wait for him."

                                            > "Um, I think I'll go check on him.  See if he's okay."

                                            > "Nonsense, he'll be fine.  Besides, we haven't had a chance to talk."

                                            > Sonata fidgets in place as she tries to think up an excuse not to.

                                            > "Relax, I won't try and kill you this time."

                                            > Reluctantly, she sits next to her and braces herself for the worst.

                                            > "Why'd my boy have to go and fall for some useless hooker like you?  I'm his mother.  I gave him everything he could have wanted.  Training, a job, guns, implants, a purpose, and this is the thanks I get!"

                                            > "I'm sorry.  It wasn't my intention to drive a wedge between you two.  But men need something more than big and shiny toys."

                                            > "Oh yeah?  Like what?"

                                            > "L-Love?"  She answers shyly.

                                            > "AHHHHH, who needs love!"  She drunkenly shouts.

                                            > "Love is overrated.  I took care of him.  All by myself, I might add.  And now he's the most feared assassin in this city.  Can love do that?"

                                            > "But didn't you do those things out of love?"

                                            > "Maybe."  She answers solemnly.

                                            > "I don't even know anymore."


                                            > "Things were finally starting to get back to normal; until you showed up.  He relied on me, and I, him.  It was nice."

                                            > "Then, you had to go and sink your fangs into him.  Tell me, whore.  What can you do for my son that I can't?"

                                            > "Weeell..."  Sonata says sheepishly.

                                            > "Besides 'that.'"

                                            > "I mean, sex counts for a lot."

                                            > "Bullshit.  I had sex once.  It was awful.  I lost my arm, my virtue, and my pride all at the same time."

                                            > "That's not sex; that's rape.  Sex is supposed to be the purest expression of affection.  It's why they call it love-making."

                                            > Tempest downs another shot before answering.

                                            > "How would you know?  You give yourself away for a pretty Enny.  What would you know about love."

                                            > "Give me that."  Sonata says before swiping the half-empty bottle and taking a swig.

                                            > "I don't do that anymore.  And aside from that, every time I do it with Anon, it's been the best I've ever had."

                                            > "That's my boy.  Doesn't even need experience, and he's the best fucker in town."

                                            > "You can say that again.  The last time we did it, I thought I was never going to stop cumming."

                                            > "Well, count yourself lucky, bitch.  The only reason I let you fuck my son is because I allow it."

                                            > Tempest takes back the bottle and chugs the rest of it down.  When she finishes, she slams the flask down before motioning for another one.

                                            > "And what about you?  Do you have a man that can satisfy you?"  Sonata inquires.

                                            > "No man has enough of my trust to know me in such a way."

                                            > "Maybe...  A woman then?"

                                            > "Don't be ridiculous.  Women are even worse.  They suck the life out of you, and the minute you run dry, they move onto someone else."

                                            > "Then what do you do to get off?  Toys?"

                                            > "It's always sex with you, isn't it.  I find satisfaction in other things that don't require useless plastic."

                                            > When the next container of vodka arrives, Sonata is quick to grab it before Tempest has a chance.

                                            > "I talk about it all the time because of how amazing it can be.  If you found a partner, like Anon, you'd see I'm right."

                                            > "There IS no one like Anon.  I trained him to be the best, and he is the best.  He's the only one who I believe in, so there."

                                            > The two of them take turns drinking straight from the bottle.  Staring each other down.

                                            > "What about-"

                                            > "No joytoys."  Tempest shoots down.

                                            > Sonata was at a loss.  She wanted to make nice with her boyfriend's mother, but she was making it difficult.  Then, a devious idea came to her.

                                            > "Well, what about Anon?"  She suggests.


                                            > "What about him?"  Tempest replies, confused.

                                            > "If you don't think any other man is worth sleeping with, why not just do it with him?"

                                            > "Are you suggesting I have sex with my son?  I think someone's getting a little too loose with their drink."

                                            > "I'm perfectly fine, thank you.  And why not?  You said it yourself; he's perfect, and you know him better than anyone."

                                            > "First of all, Anon would never agree to it.  Second, I would never agree to it, and third, it's just disgusting."

                                            > "I don't think so.  I used to eat out my sisters all the time.  How is this any different?"

                                            > "You're lucky Anon isn't here to listen to your repugnant suggestions."

                                            > She takes another swig before placing the bottle on the table.

                                            > "What the hell does he see in you?"  Tempest grumbles.

                                            > "Maybe he was sick of listening to some old hag tell him what to do.  You ever think of that?  That he wanted someone who could think and see outside of the sheltered box that he was crammed into."

                                            > "You watch your tone, slut.  You may be my guest, but you are treading on thin ice."

                                            > "Fine, I'll just leave.  And I'm taking Anon and his fat cock with me."

                                            > "You will do no such thing."  Tempest challenges as they both stare each other down.

                                            > "You can't stop me, and you know as well as I that I can be VERY persuasive in making Anon do what I want.  So what's it gonna be?"  She taunts with suggesting she'll give him fellatio.

                                            > A weighty pause builds between them; until Tempest's demeanor finally falters.

                                            > Knowing she's powerless to stop her, she screams in frustration and throws the clear flask against the mobile home, where it shatters into a thousand pieces.

                                            > "It's not fair."  Tempest sighs.

                                            > "I finally had him back.  After nearly losing him, he came back.  He depended on me.  He looked up to me.  I was happy."  She revealed as her voice began to crack.

                                            > "Why can't things just stay the way they are?  What more do I have to give to keep him in my life?  Haven't I done enough?   I've always been there when he needed me, but still, it isn't enough?"

                                            > Tempest was trembling at this point.  As soft tear-drops fell from her face.

                                            > Being so caught up in her emotional turmoil, Tempest didn't see Sonata until she was on her knees hugging her.


                                            > "I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have said those mean things.  I never wanted to take Anon away from you.  I was just really mad."

                                            > Tempest sits there shocked.  Doing her best to try and keep her composure while slightly intoxicated.

                                            > "If I'm being honest, I'm kind of jealous of you two.  I never really knew my parents, and the thought of being able to spend my whole life growing up with them gives me butterflies."

                                            > "But I'm never going to get that chance, you did.  And I would never take that away from you."

                                            > "That was a dirty trick, tramp."  Tempest laments before hugging her back.

                                            > "I should have seen through it, but you weren't the only one who was angry."

                                            > "It happens."  Sonata muses before returning to her seat.

                                            > "We girls say a lot of things we don't mean.  So, can we call it even?"

                                            > "Yes.  However, let us not mention any of this to Anon.  I'd rather we keep this between us."

                                            > "Sounds good to me.  I'm sure he would have loved to hear our plans to get you laid, though."

                                            > "I don't know why you think that.  Your suggestion is still outrageous."

                                            > "Is it?  You said it yourself; he looks up to you.  Why wouldn't he want to have sex with the woman he respects most."

                                            > "Aside from the obvious?"

                                            > "I don't know.  If I was your son, I'd consider it.  Even for your age, you still got it going on, girl."

                                            > Tempest blushes a little before looking away.

                                            > "You talk too much."

                                            > "It's true.  I wish my tits were that big, but the only way I'm getting any bigger is with implants.  Plus, they don't sag at all.  How do you keep them up like that?"

                                            > "I workout."  She offers, trying to cut the discussion short.

                                            > "Is it the same for your ass?  Because I took one look at that thing and thought daaaaaaaamn.  You could squeeze a guy dry in seconds with those steel buns."

                                            > "You know for a prostitute- excuse me.  'Former' prostitute, it's unbecoming to speak to your possible mother-in-law in such a way."

                                            > "Well, we've been pretty upfront with each other so far; why stop?"

                                            > "I'm just not used to such compliments spoken to me so casually is all.  Especially from another woman."

                                            > "You're overthinking it.  It's way better to just be honest.  Try it.  Say something nice about me."

                                            > Tempest purses her lips as she contemplates her next words.

                                            > "I've heard tale that your skills with your..."  Tempest struggles to find the words.

                                            > "Mouth.  Are second to no one."

                                            > "You heard right.  See, that wasn't so hard.  I could even demonstrate for you if you'd like."

                                            > "Please don't."


                                            > "I could teach you, so you'd be able to get a man."

                                            > "That is unnecessary."

                                            "I'm back.  Sorry about- BABE!"

                                            > "ANON!"

                                            > Sonata leaps from her chair and attempts to kiss you, but you put your hand over her mouth.

                                            "That's not a good idea, after what I just did."

                                            > "Don't care."

                                            > She wraps her arms around your neck and stands on her tippy toes as she gives you a smooch.

                                            "When did you get here?"

                                            > "A little while ago.  I've been chatting with your mom while you were away."

                                            "Oh?"  You say nervously.

                                            > "We talked about a bunch of stuff.  Most of it is dirty.  You wouldn't believe the things that come out of her mouth."

                                            > "Hey!"

                                            > "Relax.  I won't tell him."

                                            > You're floored that your mom and Sonata were able to hit it off.  Especially after what happened last time.

                                            > "Speaking of, our talks have made me really horny.  You mind if I suck your cock?"

                                            "Sorry, babe, but my mom says no, and those are the boss's orders."

                                            > "Oh, we talked about that, and she said it's okay."

                                            > "WHAT!"  Both you and Tempest say in unison.

                                            > "She said it'd be okay as long as she could watch to make sure I didn't try and stab you.  On top of that, she has a friend who's had her eyes on you that I agreed could join us."

                                            "Seriously?  You never mentioned that to me!?"

                                            > "She didn't want anyone putting their hands on her precious baby boy, but I convinced her otherwise."

                                            "Is that all true?"

                                            > "Now you see here-"

                                            > "Of course it is.  The only requirement she had was that you be blindfolded.  It's her first time ever doing this, so she's a little shy."

                                            > Even with a moderate buzz, you still weren't believing what you were hearing.  You look back and forth from Sonata and Tempest and sensed no deception as your mother continued to say nothing.

                                            "You're really okay with this?"

                                            > Tempest, being forced on the spot, stumbles to offer a response.

                                            > "I said no, but she wouldn't accept that."

                                            > You felt like it was your birthday and Christmas all at once.  Getting blown by not one but two chicks was a dream come true.  Your mother apparently was going to watch, but since you'd be blindfolded, you tried not to think about that.

                                            "Well, what are we waiting for?"  You offer eagerly.

                                            > "Take it easy, my big hunk."  Sonata says before pushing you up against the trailer and kissing you.

                                            > "First things first."  She takes a step back and removes her tanktop.  Not knowing the concept of a bra, Sonata was now topless as she handed you her shirt.

                                            > You clumsily fumble with the fabric but still manage to wrap it around your eyes.  As you're doing this, you can feel Sonata's dexterous fingers undoing your pants.

                                            > Even after doing this a number of times, you still felt anxious with excitement.  Or maybe it was alcohol in your system.  Either way, you hope you purged enough of it to not have to make a repeat trip to the shrubs.


                                            > As Sonata pulls your junk free, you stand patiently against the metal wall waiting for stimulation.

                                            > "Come on now, don't be shy."  Sonata says, egging on your mother.

                                            > Tempest motions that she wants nothing to do with it, but Sonata continues to press the issue.

                                            > "She's a little nervous.  Could you say some words of encouragement to her?"

                                            > Not exactly sure what to say, you try to be honest.

                                            "Look, I'm sorry I never noticed your feelings before, but if my girlfriend and my mother trust you enough to be here, then I'll trust you too.  You've got nothing to worry about."

                                            > Tempest reluctantly gets up and makes her way over to you.

                                            > (I did not agree to this.)  She mouths to Sonata.

                                            > "Don't be like that.  You'll love it, and I'm sure Anon will too."

                                            > Gritting her teeth and glaring at her, Tempest takes a second to compose herself.

                                            > (Don't think this changes anything between us.)  She says inaudibly while getting on her knees.

                                            > "Don't worry, I promise you won't regret it."

                                            > (So what now?)

                                            > "First, we need to get our man hard, but that's the easy part.  So you can help with that."

                                            > (How?)

                                            > "Use your tongue and follow my lead."

                                            > Sonata starts by taking her mouth and dragging it from the underside of your balls to the tip of your dick.

                                            > Naturally, you crane your neck downwards to look.  Even though you were temporarily blinded.  That's when you remembered that you had x-ray vision.  Dare you take a peek at your secret admirer?

                                            > Tentatively, Tempest inched closer.  She was so close she could smell it.  The pure musk of a man, the man she loved, her son.

                                            > She cursed herself for getting into this situation.  A small part of her was curious about sex, but the thought of losing you outweighed those primal urges.

                                            > If she had to do this forbidden act to conquer those obstacles, then so be it.  Steeling her nerves, she closes her eyes and gives your member an experimental lick.

                                            > She wasn't sure what she was expecting.  Given that her only experience was forced upon her, a memory she often had to suppress.  She had expected it to be grotesque, but the only thing she could describe it as was; salty.

                                            > No longer fearful of the taste, she continued to trace her lips around your jewels.  Even opening her eyes to watch as your length steadily grew before her.  Feeling the blood rush through your veins as your glands pulsed and throbbed.

                                            > Once you had reached peak stiffness, Sonata indicated to Tempest to stop.

                                            > "This is it!  He's ready!  Eager to become a world champion cocksucker!"

                                            > (No.)

                                            > "Well, watch and learn."  She says, ignoring her.

                                            > With her forefinger and thumb wrapped around the base of your cock, Sonata plunges herself down on your dick.  Taking the whole length in one go.  Causing you to groan in pleasure.

                                            > Your mother watched in awe as you placed your hands on the back of Sonata's head and kept her there for several seconds.  Forcing your girth to violate her throat.


                                            > Over time, tears began to well up in her eyes as she struggled to retain control of her gag reflex.  Her eyes began to flutter rapidly as her body began to cry for release.

                                            > What your mother wasn't seeing was Sonata's tongue thrashing about in her mouth with monstrous power and precision.  Running circles around your rod and massaging your tip.

                                            > During this time, you moan as she hits all of your weak spots.  However, knowing it wasn't just the two of you, you release her as she gasps for air.

                                            > Looking dazed, Sonata turns to look at Tempest, who's a little concerned for this girl's safety.

                                            > (Are you okay?)

                                            > "Huh?  Oh, yeah.  Usually, he has me go longer, but we don't want to keep you out of the fun."

                                            > (I can't do that!)

                                            > "Don't worry, it's not as hard as it looks.  Once you learn to control your gag reflex, it's pretty easy.  Here start with the tip."

                                            > Putting her arm around Tempest's shoulder, she holds your penis in place, directly in front of your mother's nose.

                                            > Having nowhere to go, Tempest opens her mouth and gently accepts your turgid member.

                                            > You fought the urge to glimpse at her face through the shirt as an unfamiliar pressure began sensually touching your crotch.

                                            > Her technique was uncertain and timid, nothing at all like Sonata.  Content to wait a bit longer, you let your girlfriend coach your guest on how to proceed.

                                            > "Not bad, but make sure to tease his balls too.  They're just as important as the cock itself."

                                            > Doing as she's told, Tempest begins to gently play with your sack.  Doing her best not to hurt you.

                                            > "Good, now, let's test how well you can deepthroat him."

                                            > Your mother gives Sonata a concerned look.

                                            > "Don't worry, you're here to learn, remember.  He'll love it no matter how good you are at it.  Just be mindful of your teeth."

                                            > Having already come this far, Tempest wraps her fingers around your member and steadily pushes it down her gullet.

                                            > Getting about halfway before encountering resistance.

                                            > "Just a little more."

                                            > Sonata moves her hand to the back of your mother's head and gives her a soft nudge.  Tempest, surprised by the sudden maneuver, starts to choke and cough as her eyes begin to water.

                                            > "I know.  Hold it for a little longer.  Breathe through your nose."

                                            > Fighting every instinct to slap her shit, Tempest instead focuses on controlling her breathing.

                                            > Content with her progress, Sonata lets her go, and Tempest jumps off of you.  She inhales sharply, only to start coughing from ingesting her own saliva.

                                            > Worried any noise might give her away: she quickly covers her mouth with her hand.  Once that was over, she sits back up.  Ready to continue.

                                            > "How was that?"

                                            > (Awful, never do that again.)

                                            > "Don't be like that.  You did great on your first attempt.  A little more training, and you'll be able to take the whole thing.  Besides, Anon wants you to try again, don't you, sweetie."


                                            "Please.  It felt great."

                                            > Not as good as Sonata, of course, but still very gratifying.

                                            > (I don't think I can.)

                                            > "Not with that attitude?  Why don't we let Anon guide you this time?  I swear it'll be worth it.  Once you know the sweet tanginess of his cum you'll be begging to savor its deliciousness."

                                            > (Do I have to?)

                                            > "If you back out now, I'm telling him who you are."

                                            "Babe, be nice.  As much as I'm loving the attention, if she's having second thoughts, don't force the issue."

                                            > "Dawwww.  Such a gentleman."  Sonata says before kissing your tip.

                                            > "See.  Isn't he the best?  Now, help me collect our prize."

                                            > Your words helped ease your mother's worried mind.  Even if they weren't directed at her specifically, Tempest still appreciated them all the same.

                                            > Wrapping her lips around your cockhead, your mother reaches up and grabs both your wrists and directs your hands to the sides of her head.  Allowing you full control of how fast and hard she would take you.

                                            > It was a shame you didn't realize who this girl was before.  With a bit of prodding, she was as malleable as a doll.

                                            > As your fingers coursed through her hair, you visualized what she might look like.  She had a mohawk, the same as your mother.  And even the same ear piercings.

                                            > After a while of tutoring the new girl, you let the two of them work in tandem, sucking you off.  Running their tongues up and down your shaft like an icy pop.  One, tending to your sack while the other choked on it.  You wished it could go on forever.

                                            > Alas, all good things come to an end, and yours was growing near.  Sonata knew it too: as she recognized how your stomach muscles were constricting and the climbing audibleness of your breathing.

                                            > "Get ready, girlfriend.  He's going to let out a big one.  Make sure you don't spill a drop."

                                            > Your mother takes you into her maw and starts bobbing her head up and down while Sonata pumps you faster and faster with her left hand.

                                            > You were reaching the end of your rope; in more ways than one.  You decide that you'll be damned if you don't get to see your own money shot paint two sexy girls white.

                                            > And as soon as you look, you immediately wish you hadn't.

                                            > Too preoccupied with the task in front of her, Tempest doesn't notice or feel Sonata's right hand snake it's way down your mother's backside until she starts kneading her aching lower lips.

                                            > She hums in surprise, and that sensation, regardless of how you felt, was enough to send you over the edge.


                                            > Taken aback once more, the first shot lands on her lips and nose before she recovers enough to cover your fire hydrant with her mouth.

                                            > Working on full instinct, she holds her jaw locked in place as she swallows and siphons out your jizz.

                                            > Excited by the predicament she was in, both Sonata's hands moved even faster to prolong your orgasm and to encourage Tempest to keep going.

                                            > It wasn't until your faucet died down to a slow leak did Sonata stop.  Your mother's mouth was positively filled with your spunk, and it took her several tries before she was able to chug all of it down.

                                            > "Fuck, that was hot.  Here, let me clean up your face."

                                            > Your girlfriend quickly laps up the little your mother initially missed that landed on her face.

                                            > "Rich as always.  Want some more?"

                                            > Tempest, too stunned by the latest series of events, quickly stands up and walks back to her table and washes down your seed with a swig of vodka.

                                            > "I'm leaving."  She says.

                                            > "Wah, why?"

                                            > "I need to take care of some things.  Feel free to do as you wish."

                                            > Too shocked yourself to say anything you watch as she walks away before realizing that Sonata was still here.

                                            "So, what do we do now?"  You say, hoping she didn't notice.

                                            > "Well, our playmate left too, so it's just the two of us."

                                            "Does that mean I can take this thing off now?"

                                            > "Sure."

                                            > Sonata undoes the tie to your blindfold, and you're greeted again by her beautiful naked chest.

                                            "Damn.  I'm so lucky to have you."

                                            > "Not as lucky as I am to have you."

                                            > The two of you make out again before Sonata undoes her pants.

                                            > "You're still good to go, right?"

                                            "For you, always."

                                            > "Good, because we haven't properly celebrated your promotion together yet, and we've got A LOT to celebrate."

                                            > Even after what you just witnessed, you were able to enjoy the rest of the evening.  By ending the night finishing inside your girlfriend.


                                            > "You want to strike a deal?"  Adagio questions.

                                            "That's the idea."

                                            > "And you think just because you're a captain now, you can make it happen?"

                                            "My mother gave me this position explicitly to nurture our relationship going forward.  The only thing keeping this from happening is you."

                                            > "It's not as simple as you make it sound.  My girls have been fighting the Black Shadows for a decade-plus.  I can't just change people's feelings about you or your group overnight."

                                            "I'm willing to put in the work; both me and your sister."

                                            > Adagio lets out a heavy sigh as she contemplates her next course of action.

                                            > "I'm not saying it's impossible, but it'll take time and money to change people's minds.  I can't just release a braindance of you two having sex and say I approve of your union."

                                            "Can't hurt, can it?"

                                            > "Yes, but my people are going to want more than that."

                                            > Adagio's eyes light up as she sends you a file.

                                            > "This is a map of our frontlines.  Our fights with the Phantom Bloods are getting worse and worse.  I lose people that I can't replace, and they seem to have an endless supply of fresh meat to throw at us.  I need you to level the playing field."

                                            > "If you can stop them from taking any more of our territory, I'll put out the word that the Black Shadows are no longer our enemies."

                                            "If I send my people to fight your battles for you, it's only going to make you look even weaker.  On top of that, if we start marching around waving our flag as we take back your turf, what's to stop your people from accidentally shooting us in the back?  No one but you or I are going to know the reason behind our actions."

                                            "Not to mention, we're trying to keep this alliance on the down-low.  If other gangs figure out, we're in bed together, they may team up and do the same to keep us in check."

                                            > Adagio says nothing as she deliberates on your analysis.

                                            "I may have offered to do things for you that greatly favored your side in the past, but I can't afford to do that this time.  Even though I'm the one asking for this partnership, you need to make it worth my while."

                                            > "I liked it better when you did things out of the kindness of your heart."

                                            "I'm sure you did.  Now, what do you have to offer me?"

                                            > "I could get me and Aria to join you and Sonata during one of your escapades, and I know how much you enjoy her company.  Now, imagine that, but three times as good."

                                            > As much as the thought of fucking the three most powerful members of the Sirens enticed you.  You're immediately reminded of your encounter in the park not too long ago and resolve to not complicate matters further.

                                            "Thanks, but I'll pass.  I may be different from when you first met me, but not that different.  How's your money situation, by the way?"

                                            > "Plentiful.  Will that really be enough?"

                                            "Money is money.  But enough about that, you come up with a better idea?"


                                            > "You specialize in covert operations, right?"

                                            "Indeed, I do."

                                            > "Good.  There's a TV station under the Phantom Blood's protection.  I want you to sneak into it.  It's home to a top-of-the-line antenna array built for protecting their means of communication across the city.   Nothing short of hacking a satellite can penetrate it."

                                            "So, what do you want me to do?"

                                            > "Infiltrate the site and plant a bug for us to tap their systems.  Once we've successfully piggybacked off of their signal, we can observe and plan around their movements."

                                            > "Then, when we've found a suitable target, we'll start our counterattack."

                                            "Do you want me to be a part of that too?"

                                            > "Probably not.  This operation, you'll be going it alone.  So, if you get caught, they'll think your gang is behind it.

                                            After that, it'd be best if you kept your distance to avoid any suspicion."

                                            "Does that include Sonata and me?"

                                            > "Obviously.  The two of you can't be seen together that often without it raising some red flags."

                                            > You hated to admit it, but she was right.

                                            It was a good plan, and if it worked, The Sirens would be better off for it.

                                            > The only hitch would be that you and Sonata would need to take a break.  And even though you two have only been dating a short time, you were going to miss her bubbly spirit.

                                            > That, and the sex.

                                            > Speaking of which, you hadn’t confronted her or your mother about what happened that night.  You wish you could forget about it and move on, but the image of both your mother and your girlfriend on their knees blowing you is etched in your mind.

                                            > The more you try to forget the more you remember how it felt.

                                            > And that gets you excited.  Even if you don’t want to be aroused by it.  The fantasy of having multiple women pleasuring you is too great.

                                            > You had to say something, but who should you confront?  If you asked Sonata, she would probably blow it off as no big deal.  Considering how casually she talks about sex.

                                            > If you asked your mother, you run the risk of undoing months of genuine bonding time.  On top of ruining any chance of having a ‘normal’ parent-child relationship.

                                            > “So, do we have a deal?”

                                            > You were so deep in thought that you nearly forgot you were in the middle of planning an important mission with Adagio.

                                            “Yeah, sounds good.  I’ll message you when it's done.”

                                            > You get up to leave, but she quickly stops you.

                                            > “Hey, hold on a second.  You’re going to need this.”

                                            > She says before handing you a small metallic device.

                                            > “Something up?”  She asks quizzically.

                                            “Yes, but nothing you need to concern yourself over.

                                            Like I said, I’ll let you know when the job’s done.”


                                            > A few hours later…


                                            > You were back at your base in North Oaks cleaning your guns after a successful mission.  Trying to keep your mind busy when you notice a group of your people approaching you.

                                            > “Boss, we got a problem.”  One of them remarks.

                                            “What kind of problem?”

                                            > “Some of our guys have noticed Militech trucks making a few unscheduled stops at a couple of ‘not so abandoned factories’ in the industrial district of Watson, offloading crates.”

                                            “Do we know what’s in them?”

                                            > “Not military rations I’ll tell you that.”

                                            “That’s NOT an answer!  How big were these crates?  How many were there?  I need specifics soldier.”

                                            > “Uh…”  He looks to his posy for help, and they confer quickly.

                                            > “About a dozen crates at each location.

                                            All of them as big as dining tables or bigger.”

                                            “So, they’re not hiding it anymore.”

                                            > “Sir?”

                                            “Go to the base in Charter Hill and inform my mother of what you just told me.”

                                            > “Okay…wait.  Can’t you do that?”

                                            “No, I’m going to confirm my suspicions before I inform the boss of anything.  Are your orders clear?”

                                            > “Yes.”  He says but continues standing there wanting to know more.”

                                            “Is there a problem?”  You say with growing frustration.

                                            > “Is there something going on between the Storm Rulers and Militech?”

                                            “Yes.”  You reply before cocking your gun and aiming it at him.

                                            “But you’ll never know what it is unless you GET MOVING!”

                                            > They all quickly rush out of the room, not wanting to try your patience any further.

                                            > Part of you felt bad for them because they reminded you of yourself.  Just wanting to be useful and not left in the dark.

                                            > However, you couldn’t afford to show weakness.

                                            That was your gang’s- no, your family’s motto.  Things were heating up, and you needed everyone at their best.  Yourself included.

                                            > That’s why you ordered those men to report to your mother because you couldn’t look her in the eye.  Not after what happened.

                                            > You knew you couldn’t keep avoiding it forever, but you still hadn’t parsed together a plan of attack.  Should you force the issue or take a more delicate approach.  You weren’t sure.

                                            > You needed more time to think about it, but the more you contemplated it, the heavier it weighed on your mind.  You needed a distraction.  One more pressing and life-threatening than cleaning your guns.

                                            > Luckily for you, you had one.

                                            > An excuse to not think about what happened.

                                            And an excuse to not see your mother, but when that’s over, what then?

                                            > You suppose you’ll cross that bridge when you come to it.  For now, you needed to gear up and head out.  There were things to be done.


                                            > Looking through the scope of your sniper rifle, you survey a former meatpacking plant.  What you see doesn’t surprise you.  Armed guards.  All wearing Storm Ruler colors or logos.

                                            > What did surprise you was the equipment they were sporting.  Militech.  From head to toe.

                                            > You had found a small cache not too long ago, but now it looks like the weapons dealers were outfitting your biggest rivals to go to war.

                                            > A reasonable thing to do, considering you made an official declaration yourself.

                                            > On top of the fact your father probably took the near destruction of his favorite ivory tower personally.  Good, but also bad.  Good, because it showed that you could rattle his cage.  Bad, because it was a BIG cage.

                                            > After a few minutes of watching from afar, you find a suitable entry point and grapple hook your way there.

                                            > You disable a security camera with one of your EMP beads and pick the lock to a door leading to the fire escape.

                                            > Once inside, you b-line for the open floor and immediately zip yourself up to the skyline.  The place was big and crawling with goons.  None of which you recognize as big hitters, unfortunately.


                                            (Incoming Call)

                                            (Boss)


                                            > Great, just what you needed.  You’d ignore it given the circumstances, but you didn’t want to make her worry over nothing.  So, reluctantly, you answer it.

                                            “Can I call you back?  I’m busy.”  You whisper.

                                            > “Busy doing what?”  Your mother asks.

                                            “What do you think?”

                                            > “You know I don’t like it when you don’t inform me of these things.”

                                            “I did.  That’s what those jackoffs are for.”

                                            > “I mean in person.  BEFORE we decide on a course of action.  You may be a captain now, but I’m still your boss, and a development of this magnitude requires a council meeting.”

                                            “By that time the shipments could have been long gone, and the last thing we need is more nanomachines on the street.”

                                            > “So, you’ve confirmed that they are indeed shipping out nanomachines?”

                                            “Not yet, but I’d bet money on it.”

                                            > Your mother lets out a reluctant sigh before offering a rebuttal.

                                            > “Fine, I have a plan, but you need to wait until I get there before you do anything.”

                                            “Too late for that.  I’m already inside.”

                                            > “Why am I not surprised.”  She muses.

                                            > “In that case, I’m calling the police to organize a raid on the place.”

                                            “So, you can earn brownie points with your contact on the force?  How do you know he won’t just sell them himself?

                                            > “Because SHE is as strait-laced as they come, and I've spent years gaining her trust.

                                            “I STILL don’t like it, but it’s your call.”

                                            > “Good.  Confirm that the nanomachines are there, and wait.  I’ll be there with my contact in twenty minutes.  When we arrive, assist us from the inside.  We’re going to need it.”

                                            “Roger that.”


                                            > Never in a million years did you ever think you’d be assisting in a police raid.  But then again, you’d never thought you’d get blown b-.

                                            > …

                                            > You need to get moving.

                                            > You attach your magnetic grapple to a support beam and slowly descend.  Once on the ground, you sneakily check each crate you come across of its contents.

                                            > Guns, armor, mines, more guns, but not what you were looking for.  You ascend back up to the ceiling and contemplate your next move.

                                            > They had to be here somewhere.  If not here, where?

                                            > Maybe they kept a manifest of everything they received.  If so, it would tell you where they’re keeping the good stuff.

                                            > You were about to head towards the offices when some unusual movement grabs your attention.

                                            > Two of the thugs on the floor seemed distraught.  Having a tense exchange before heading over to one of the far corners of the room and opening a secret entrance underneath one of the large metal shipping containers.

                                            “That’s more like it.”

                                            > You follow, shortly after they disappear, and stumble upon an elevator.  How far down does this thing go?  Only one way to find out.

                                            > With your pistols drawn, you descend further into the depths.  Time was running out, if you didn’t find what you were looking for this mission would be a bust.  A fact that your mother would never let you live down.

                                            > As the doors open, you slide to cover and scan for movement.  The elevator had taken you to an underground club.  You didn’t see anybody, but you use your enhanced vision to be doubly sure.

                                            > As your eyes make sense of various stimuli, you make out the profiles of six people.  All in various rooms in front of you.

                                            > Not good.  That was too many in such a small amount of space to deal with quietly.

                                            > You were going to need to get around them somehow.  Not to mention you still hadn’t found any nanomachines.

                                            > Then, all the criminals begin moving to a room in the back.  The two guys who you followed must have called a meeting.  Allowing you a chance to listen in on their little pow-wow.

                                            > You approach cautiously, checking your corners for security cams or any other unwelcome surprises.  When you reach the end, you see a heavy-duty door with a security pad attached to it.

                                            > You could try and crack it, but you muse it would take too long and opt to wait outside and ambush the group when they come out.  Assuming they don’t have an alternate escape route.

                                            > You put your ear up to the door on the off chance you could eavesdrop on some juicy intel but only hear muffled voices.

                                            > Nothing you could make heads or tails of.

                                            > Ambush it is then.

                                            > You weigh your options and decide on how best to dispose of the six problems you currently had in front of you.


                                            > You couldn’t take them all head-on, so you either had to pick them off one at a time or create a substantial diversion that would thin their numbers.

                                            > Then, you remember seeing a few flying drones on your way in.  Giving you an idea.  When you were younger, you used to scalp them from the police and reprogram them to fight for you.

                                            > It had been a few years since you’d last done it, so you hope you remember how to do it.

                                            > You open a hatch to one of the metal bots, and your heart sinks.

                                            > Either you didn’t remember anything about your childhood experiences, or this was an entirely different type of drone.

                                            > You didn’t recognize any of the nodes, none of the colored wires were the color you remember them being, and worst of all, the thing started beeping the second you opened it.

                                            > You hastily begin pulling out wires to silence the blasted bot, and hopefully, find something you recognize.

                                            > What should have taken less than thirty seconds takes over a minute for you to figure out.

                                            > After much tinkering, the little flying death machine beeps in confirmation that it’s synced with your commands.  You power it down, and suddenly hear the thugs approaching.  It wasn't much, but it would have to be enough.

                                            > You jump behind the bar and wait for the right moment to initiate your ambush.

                                            > You listen to the men’s voices and parse together a little of what they say.

                                            > They talk about moving the equipment.

                                            > About finding out who snitched them out to the cops.  And whether it was worth trying to save the gear in the first place.

                                            > When you were certain that the gang members were in a prime position, you execute your attack.

                                            > As soon as the drone opens fire, you pop up from behind the table and unload your clips as fast as possible.

                                            > Between the two of you, half of the goons go down without firing a shot.  However, the other three are able to get to cover before you reload.

                                            > Not a bad ambush, but now you’ve lost your greatest advantage, and there were still more of them than there were of you.

                                            > You sneak a peak just long enough to see one of them pull out a rocket launcher and aim it at your robot counterpart.

                                            (BOOM)

                                            > The metal menace is reduced to nothing but scrap metal.  Leaving you to fend for yourself against three very angry and heavily armed enemies.

                                            > Your current shelter couldn’t withstand that kind of firepower, but if you made a run for it, they’d simply gun you down.

                                            > Leaving you only one place to go.

                                            > You toss a smoke grenade over the counter and wait for the gunfire to die down before grappling to the catwalk hanging from the ceiling.

                                            > Once you had found some stable footing, you pop another smoke grenade and make a mad dash for one of the ceiling corners.  Jumping off just as another rocket blows up the walkway.


                                            > You reach the edge and hold yourself up by pushing against the walls with all your might.  Thanks to the added explosion, your two smoke grenades had now dispersed their contents all over the room.

                                            > Plus, the idiots below you had continued to shoot into the air wildly in hopes of hitting you, but only succeeded in shattering all the light fixtures instead.  Only leaving the neon lights that accentuated the club to illuminate the room.

                                            > “Did we get him?”  One of them asks.

                                            > “I don’t know.  I can’t see anything.”  Another proclaims.

                                            > “One of you go get backup.  We don’t have time for this.”

                                            > Damn it.  If you don’t finish them off now, there’d be too many of them for you to handle alone.  That is if the rest of the base hadn’t already been alerted by all the commotion you were making.

                                            > Not to mention your reinforcements would be walking straight into a hornet’s nest.

                                            > You had to take a gamble.

                                            > Fight to keep your backup a surprise or stay hidden and risk being found in the meantime.

                                            > As an assassin, you were trained to be patient.

                                            > To always let the moment present itself to you before acting.

                                            > But as a soldier, you were trained to fight.

                                            > To take matters into your own hands and shape the outcome to your desire.

                                            > And right now, you desire not to be found.

                                            > So, you decide to kill them before they had a chance to alert anyone else.

                                            > With your special eyes, you were able to see all three of your assailants.  And as one of them slowly made his way through the haze to the exit, you drop from the ceiling.

                                            > Once your feet touch the ground, you dash toward the unsuspecting thug.

                                            > The other two, upon hearing you land, shoot in a vain attempt to kill you.  Missing wildly, but you didn’t even notice.  There was only you and your current target, and in one swift motion, you get behind him, pull out a knife, push his neck against your blade, and slice his throat out.  Like you’ve practiced a million times.

                                            > As he attempts in vain to stave off his own death, you quickly duck for cover behind a box of supplies as the remaining goons’ gunfire fills their now dead buddy full of holes.

                                            > With your hands now free, you reload your dual pistols with your last magazines.

                                            > Time was running out.   Once the smoke cleared, you’d be out of options.

                                            > Plus, now that the thugs knew approximately where you were, you couldn’t catch them off guard now that you’ve exhausted your arsenal.

                                            > The only thing left to do was to take them head-on.  A bold, but desperate maneuver.  One that required more luck than skill, which is why you opted to never do it unless your hand was forced.

                                            > And this was one such occasion.

                                            > You peek from behind the crate and get a lock on their heat signatures.  Taking a deep breath, you launch your final assault.


                                            > You step forward.

                                            > They react.

                                            > You exchange fire.

                                            > One runs for cover.  The other stands tall.

                                            > One of them drops dead.  The other narrowly escapes.

                                            > Your clips run empty, but his do not.

                                            > You see the muzzle flash but don’t feel the pain.

                                            > Your mind says retreat, but your body moves forward.

                                            > Drawing a knife to your hand, you go for the closer.

                                            > His surprise is brief, yet his reaction is stalled.

                                            > Your movements were too swift, and they cause him to fall.

                                            > With no hesitation, you bring an end to his days.

                                            > As you had done for countless others as your mind grows unhazed.


                                            > It was done.

                                            > It was slobby work.

                                            > An embarrassment even.

                                            > But you didn’t have time to think about that.

                                            > Your mother was almost here, and you needed to be ready for her.

                                            > Then, just as you take another step, your body falters.

                                            > All the adrenaline you had built up was now wearing off, and it was at that moment you see the blood.

                                            > Your own blood.

                                            > It seems your gamble came at a cost.  You feel yourself to inspect the damage and breathe a sigh of relief.

                                            > No vitals were hit.  You just need to find yourself a Bounce Back injector, and you’d be right as rain.

                                            > You rummage through the Storm Ruler’s goods until you find what you were looking for.  Once that was taken care of, you bust down the security door in the back and find a room filled with servers and a couple of computers.

                                            > This looked promising.

                                            > You jack into the most important-looking thing in the room and call your buddy.

                                            “Hey, Grubber found a server room underground filled with goodies.  Think you can work your magic?”

                                            > “Can do.  What am I looking for?”

                                            “Nanomachines.  What else?  Can you tell me if they’re here?”

                                            > “Oh yeah, they’re there alright.”

                                            “Where?”

                                            > “Right in front of you.”

                                            > That didn’t seem right.  The last time you found a case of these things they were in a bulletproof box.  But you didn’t see anything like that here.

                                            “You sure?”

                                            > “Yep, those big coffers are filled with them.”

                                            “You mean, these aren’t servers filled with data?”

                                            > “Nope, they’re basically giant metal beehives for storing nanomachines.”

                                            > You unplug from the outlet and look back at the room you completely glossed over the first time.  There were over a dozen of these refrigerator-sized containers, and they all were packed to the brim with little monstrosities.

                                            “Holy shit.”

                                            > “Yeah, your instincts were on the money, but you better get moving.  Temp is almost there.”

                                            “I know.  I just need to-“

                                            > Your sentence is cut short upon feeling a sharp pain in your back.

                                            > Damn it!  Not now!

                                            > “What’s the matter, kid?  Are you okay?”

                                            “I’m fine.”  You force yourself to say.

                                            “Tell my mother I’ll be ready for her when she arrives.”

                                            > “Okay.  Be safe out there.”

                                            > As soon as you hang up you bellow out in frustration.

                                            > You thought you were past this.  Those neuroblockers did wonders for your back affliction, but apparently, it was only good for masking the problem.

                                            > Which is exactly what you needed right now.

                                            > Just to fight through the pain for a little longer.

                                            > You pop one of the pills and are immediately relieved of your agony.  However, the aching is replaced by an intense burning sensation in your gut.  Coupled with a tingling sensation that you could feel all over your skin.

                                            > This was new, and you kind of liked it.

                                            > All your weariness was seemingly cut out of you and replaced with a razor’s edge focus.

                                            > You wish you could feel like this all the time.

                                            > You felt like you could rip this place apart with your bare hands.

                                            > In fact…

                                            > It was at that moment, that your senses grew numb, and your spatial awareness grew hazy.  You started to lose all sense of time as minutes became seconds, and your concentration became fixated on one thing.

                                            > Killing.

                                            > You grab whatever weapon was closest to you and use it until it no longer worked.  It didn’t matter what it was, hammers, shotguns, machine guns, knives, you used them all.

                                            > With no sense of time, you lose yourself in the onslaught.  Unable to remember how long you had been at it, but it seemed to be getting quieter.

                                            > You didn’t like that.  The noise kept you focused.  It meant you had a purpose.  People that needed to be killed.

                                            > Another shadow enters your vision, and you move to immolate it.

                                            > But this one was different.

                                            > Its movements were fluid and filled with resolve.  A mirror image of yourself.  For each strike you offer, it reciprocates with two of its own.

                                            > The two of you dance until the shadow outpaces you and pins you to the floor.

                                            > “Sta…dow…sold…”

                                            > The shadow was speaking to you, but you couldn’t tell what it was saying.

                                            > With your head locked in place, the world grinds to a halt, and your clouded vision begins to clear.

                                            > The thumping in your chest begins to gradually subside.

                                            > “Get a hold of yourself.”

                                            > You understood that last part.  And the voice.  You knew that voice.

                                            > It was a voice you were compelled to respect.

                                            It held strength, passion, and strangely, love.


                                            “C-commander?”

                                            > The masked assailant releases you, and the two of you spring to your feet before the dark figure removes her helmet.

                                            > “What’s wrong with you, son!?  You weren’t answering my calls, and you were fighting to kill me just now.”

                                            “Sorry didn’t recognize you.”

                                            > “How!?  I’m wearing the same gear I always do when I’m working.

                                            > It was true.  Her skin-tight latex and leather jacket were unmistakable.  Even her motorcycle helmet had its own unique and customized look to it.

                                            “I-I don’t know.”  Was all you could say.

                                            > “You look like hell.  Did those brutes really put up that-“

                                            > “You’re bleeding!”

                                            “A little, yeah.  Don’t worry, I took some meds.  I’m fine.”

                                            > Not convinced, your mother gives you the once over before backing off.

                                            > “Seems like you were too brazen by going on your own.”

                                            “Hey, I’m in one piece, aren’t I?”  You say through gritted teeth.

                                            > “Barely.  Though thanks to your efforts, the area seems secure.  Come.  I wish to introduce you to someone.”

                                            > You make your way past dozens of police officers before stopping at a patrol car where a single woman stood barking orders to the others.

                                            > “Are we clear, Tempest?”

                                            > “Yes, thanks to my son.”  She says, gesturing to you.

                                            > “You look like you’ve had a long day.”

                                            “No longer than most others.”  You say dismissively.

                                            > “Anon, this is Commissioner Sparkle.  My inside source for the NCPD.”

                                            > “I wish you wouldn’t call me that.  People are going to suspect that I’m dirty if you say things like that.”

                                            “All cops are crooked.  Some are just more crooked than others.”

                                            > “Well, I see we’re going to get along great.”  Twilight says sarcastically.

                                            “The stuff you’re looking for is in a secret room underground.  I’ll let you figure out the rest.  As for me, I need a nap, so I’ll be going home.  Long day and all that.”

                                            > “Just a minute, son.  We have some things to discuss.”

                                            “Then, we can talk at home.  You may trust your ‘informant,’ but I don’t.  And besides, we’re not exactly alone out here.  So, I’ll see you later.”  You say, doing your best to walk away without limping.

                                            > “Boy, he sure takes after you, doesn’t he?”  Twilight remarks.

                                            > “That’s what people keep telling me.  And as much as I’d like to stay and catch up, I have something I must attend to.”

                                            > “Sure, we’ll try again when neither of us is busy.  That way, we won’t have to talk about work.”

                                            > “Agreed.  Until then.”


                                            > The first thing you do when you get home is clean up.  With your clothes stained with blood and you nursing a few bullet wounds, the last thing you wanted to do was make a mess of your apartment.

                                            > As the water cascades down your body, you do your best to try and recollect what happened.  You replay everything from the very beginning, over and over but never come any closer to an answer.

                                            > Why does your memory stop after you took those neuroblockers?  All they did was suppress pain.  They shouldn’t cause lapses in your memory.  Nor should they cause you to confuse your mother with an enemy.

                                            > What happened to you?

                                            > Finding no answers at the bottom of your shower drain, you dry off and patch yourself up before taking a seat on the couch.

                                            > You weren’t sure when your mother would be back, so you decide to try and catch a few winks.

                                            > The next thing you know, you’re at full alert as you hear the front door sliding open.

                                            > You reach for your pistol but don’t pull it out upon seeing who it is.

                                            > You look at the clock and see that it hadn’t been thirty minutes since you dozed off.

                                            “Guess I made you worry.”

                                            > “That would be putting it mildly.  Now, are you going to explain your actions, or are you going to make me beat it out of you?”

                                            “Why so harsh?  I thought you were beginning to trust me more?”

                                            > “I was, that is until you put on tonight’s performance.  When you attacked me earlier, you weren’t the son I raised; you were something else.  An animal.  Not the trained killer I spent countless hours to forge, but that’s not even the worst part.”

                                            > “The worst part is that you say you ‘don’t remember what happened.’  And you’re either you’re lying to me, or you’re secretly doping from me.”

                                            > “So, which is it?”

                                            > Nothing gets past her.  Not that you’re surprised.  You just wish you had a better answer for her.

                                            “I not using anything illicit.  They’re neuroblockers.  They help with the pain.”

                                            > “Neuroblockers are still dangerous!  If used incorrectly they can cause cyberpsychosis!”

                                            “Well, Cranky’s stuff wasn’t cutting it, so unless you want me out of commission again, it’s either this or nothing!”

                                            > “I…”  She says but doesn’t continue immediately.  Giving herself a moment to consider what she wants to say.

                                            > “I care about you more than what you could do for me.  Things ARE different now.  I may still ask a lot of you because you’re a captain, but your health still comes first.

                                            Promise me you won’t use those neuroblockers anymore, and I’ll make sure Cranky gets you some better medication.”

                                            “So, you really think it was the neuroblockers that did this to me?”

                                            > “Without a doubt.  I’ve told you stories about the war, but what I haven’t told you is how many soldiers went out ingesting those things.”

                                            > “Not from overdoses, but from hysteria.”


                                            > “Troops believed themselves to be invincible when they consumed enough of that stuff.  The keyword being ‘believed.’”

                                            > “They’d lose limbs from artillery fire or gallons of blood from bullet wounds and feel nothing.  Once the sensation of pain was lost everything else gradually went with it.  Smell, hearing, vision, and lastly, sanity.”

                                            > “Naturally, the corporations loved the idea of people crazy enough to die for them, just not the part where they’d lose all ability to fight FOR them.  Which is why the more ‘fanatical’ troops were sent to the frontlines with the biggest chrome.”

                                            > “Life expectancy for those people was less than ten seconds.  Just long enough to unload all their ammunition on full auto.  And that’s it.”

                                            > “And if by some miracle they lived long enough to load a second clip, they were probably past the point of no return one way or another.”

                                            > “So now you understand why I don’t want you using that stuff.  It will kill you, and you won’t even be cognizant enough to know it.”

                                            > Everything your mother said sounded dark and callous.  Which is why you believed it without any skepticism.  Corporations were trash, and this was right up their MO.

                                            > “Now, was that all you were taking, or is there more you’re hiding from me.”

                                            “No, that was it.  Now it’s your turn.  What are you hiding from me?”

                                            > Your question catches Tempest off guard, though her face doesn’t show it.

                                            > “I don’t take any supplements if that’s what you’re asking.”

                                            “It’s not.”

                                            > You wanted to give her as many chances to come clean as possible.  Since you were being honest with her, now was as good a time as any to clear the air.

                                            > “Then what are you implying?”

                                            “That you’re keeping a dirty secret from me, but I already know what it is.”

                                            > “That being?”

                                            “Quit pussyfooting around this, you KNOW what I mean!”

                                            > “I DON’T!  Why are you suddenly angry with me?”

                                            “Because I have eyes, mother.  Special eyes.  Eyes that can see through just about anything.  Including blindfolds.”

                                            > It was then that your mother understood.  Her cheeks grew flush with embarrassment as she struggled to respond.

                                            > “Oh.  That’s what you meant.”  She offers.

                                            > “I suppose an explanation for that is warranted.”

                                            “Then?”  You say patiently.

                                            > “It’s not as simple an answer as you might think.”

                                            “I’m not going anywhere.”  You say, pulling up your feet.

                                            > “Well, it wasn’t my intention to do what I did, it just sort of, happened.”

                                            “Then what was your intention?”

                                            > Tempest takes a seat adjacent to you as she summons the courage to speak again.

                                            > “To keep you close.”  She speaks finally.

                                            > “Things were moving and changing so fast I was afraid of losing control of the situation.  And you would leave me again.”


                                            > Your expression softens, as you weren’t expecting to hear something so heartfelt.

                                            > “I just wanted us to be a normal family.  One that loves and cares for each other.  One that doesn’t keep secrets or fights daily.  One that…”  She trails off.

                                            > “Does whatever normal parents and their offspring do.”

                                            > You smile at that last part.

                                            “Is it even possible for us to be ‘normal?’”

                                            > “Maybe not, but I would at least like to try.  We came close not more than a few weeks ago.  What say we try again and leave this messy business in the past.”

                                            “I’d like that.  Did you have something in mind?”

                                            > “No.  I was hoping you had a suggestion.”

                                            > Something ‘normal’ mothers and sons do.  What was something you wanted to do as a kid but never did because of who your mother was?

                                            “We could go to the amusement park in Pacifica.”

                                            > “I don’t believe that place is operational anymore.  If it ever was, to begin with.”

                                            “We won’t know unless we go there.  And if it’s not open, then we’ll spend a day at the beach.”

                                            > “And swim?  Do you have any idea how toxic that water is?”

                                            “We don’t have to swim.  You can do other things on the beach.”

                                            > “I suppose.  Not that I have any better ideas.”

                                            “It’ll be fine, as long as we’re together and relaxing.  We could both use a day off.”

                                            > “Agreed.”