She really shouldn't have chosen the 'Bad First Day x 10' drawback. Even if the memories belonged to whom the body had once belonged, they never truly left, and those scars were hers to bear now. Even years later, the shadows of their memories still unnerved her…not that anyone knew, of course. Path to good mental health had done a fantastic job, better than any shrink, but even space whale supercomputer bullshit magic had its limits.

From another perspective, taking that drawback was necessary. She had lacked the 'points' to purchase the one ability that would guarantee her absolutely anything, victory after victory…given time of course. It was a gamble which had paid off. She had done it, and now she held the world in her palm. To do as she wished as if it was her oyster. She could path anything, she could see everything, and as far as she knew, she was omniscient.

She could give herself her well-deserved consolation prize for that shitty first day in this Walmart of a world…and a lot of people were about to die.

Just as they deserved.

… …

Clairvoyant (Real identity unknown)

The most powerful and skilled netrunner alive. Spoken in the same breath as those of the likes of Rache Bartmoss, Altera Cunningham, and Spider Murphy.

Her acclaim to fame is the creation of the Crossroads program which is the only method to this date that could safely pierce a pathway through the Blackwall and allow for communication and exploration of the WorldWide Net.

It is at the center of the remains of the Old Net in which Clairvoyant conducts her business as the most prominent information broker to this day.

… …

How long has it been since she awoke in this shithole? How long did it take for her to get here? How long since she began to walk down this path?

3 years to drag herself out of her penthouse to give herself a life beyond brain dances, hard drugs, a capable shrink to help her cope with the depression, a couple of MILF joy toys to fuck her into the mattress, and consulting her own mind powers (space whale magic) to heal her mental scars.

2 months to develop the greatest piece of software the world has ever known and put her name among the Netrunner legends. Soul-killing the deep frozen preserved brain of Rache Bartmoss himself, indoctrinating it into becoming her Host AI (her second mind, constantly in sync), and reverse engineering the RABIDs to grant her safe passage in the old net.
Within a month, from the lowest of netrunners to the greatest of the world's corporations, they were all eating out of her hand. Begging for a single scrap of information, a single line of code, a single word from her digital lips.

1 week to permanently cripple the entirety of the Scavengers' economy and market. Replacing their international demand for Night City's cyberware with cheaper sources, removed the operations' eyes by frying the brains of all of the Scavenger's netrunners and downloading every byte of data that they had compiled.

0 seconds until the beginning of their last day in this city.
August 22nd, 2075

All across Night City, hundreds of Holocalls were made simultaneously as every fixer worth their name received a message. From nameless fixers who served under others, barely calling a single street their 'turf' to others who had their names associated with legends. Even the Old Dragonlady of Watson to the Queen of the Afterlife, all received the same call.

"This is Clairvoyant" A full-face mask with the eye of the Egyptian god appeared, an obvious digital construct as the eye moved and blinked across the white mask. A deeper voice, belonging to a woman, sounded across the call. Slowly, deliberately, each word sounded out with purpose.

"This is an open contract for 500 Million Eurodollars." Every fixer in Night City turned to attention as they tried to comprehend what they were hearing. To understand the gig they were being offered and by whom.

"For the total eradication of the Scavengers." Clairvoyant continued. "Seven thousand three hundred and ninety four hit targets across Northern California. Every confirmed death has a bounty depending on who they were."

Fixers across the city immediately began calling their most trustworthy mercs, calling in favors from across town, nomad packs were brought into the city, gangs counted up their ammunition, and corporations bunkered down.

"Scavenger Ripperdocs, Scav fixers, couriers, scouters, scav den bosses, baiters, and cleaners." The holo call was being shared live as some Fixers had sold their numbers to Mediacorps. "For their deaths, I am willing to pay a premium."

*ding* A huge file was transferred to every individual on the call. A live updating file containing the details of every hit target for the gig. Their last known location, appearance, and most importantly their assigned bounty. A truly ludicrous amount for even the lowliest of targets.

"The first fixer to send proof of a hit target's death will claim the target's bounty." A short pause. "The list will update on the life or death status of the hit targets."

The Afterlife roared as named drinks were poured and shared. Laughter rang through the hall of legends as the best mercenaries the city had to offer finally had a challenge worth their time. Perhaps this would be the time when their names would be remembered forever on the lips of those who came after them.

Street kids, not a single kill to their name, drooled at the eddies offered by their street fixer. Ten times worth their normal price, completely unaware that even with that price the fixers were still withholding 90% of the bounty. They realized…just one kill…it was enough to turn their lives around, completely forgetting the last three times the same fixer had fucked them over for less.

Shop owners and stall keepers thumbed their knives and budget arms handguns hidden under their jackets. Perhaps they could leave this city after all.

Gang grunts, street samurais, and elders screwed their gorilla arms tightly and sharpened their glowing katanas. The Tyger Claws swept across their turf as they hunted the scum to the last man, leaving behind severed limbs and heads. There was profit to be made, and the bosses knew this.

The Animals emerged from Pacifica, clashing their fists together, as they were directed from den to den by Mr. Hands. Leaving behind them a trail of mashed bodies, twisted necks, and crushed skulls.

Maelstrom's maniacal laughter echoed throughout the city as the harvesters became harvested. Their cyberware ripped from limbs and sockets to be taken for their own. The ominous glow of red optics infected with the madness of cyber-psychosis was the last thing the scavs ever saw.

The Mayor of the city covered his smile. If this went well, this would guarantee another term for him. This could be what he would be remembered for.

"For decades they had preyed on this city. Tonight we hunt them to extinction."

Victims who had miraculously survived their heinous crimes screamed hoarsely at the giant monitors across the city as their prayers were answered. Families of the victims of the Scavengers took up their arms from their walls, basements, and vending machines across the city.

A former Valentino and his corporate bitch of an amiga counted up the heads as they sent their kills to Padre and Wakako respectively.

"Come on Chica! Where's the next den?"

"Padre's not answering? I can't reach Wakako either."

"¡Guau! The digital hermana really shook up this city, ehh?" The legend wannabe street kid held up his La Chignona Dorada. Smiling at his partner.

"I think I may know a few places we can try." The woman suggested.

"Oh? How's that?"

"Arasaka. Counter-intel. Don't forget that."

"Dice la Puta." He received the finger for that.

A MaxTac lieutenant smiled as a scavenger 'Cyberpsycho' had so unfortunately resisted arrest. The lights of their optics went out as her Mantis blades carved deep into their bodies. So unfortunate indeed…she would have to write a full report afterward of this sudden unexpected incident. A coincidence, for sure, that it happened to coincide with the Scavenger purge.

A purple-haired net runner looked up to the night sky as she basked in the light of the full moon. The taller blond net runner put her hand around the shoulder of her protege. Both pairs of eyes gleaming as thousands of lines of codes wrote themselves with lethal intent. A pool of glowing string unraveled itself from the younger net runner's wrist, its lethal length drenched in rubies.

A Sandevistan hummed to life as cyberpunks across the city answered the call to hunt.

"Good hunting." The call closed.

And the city washed itself in blood.

… …

A reincarnated soul basked in her peace of mind as she changed into her night clothes. Her digital mind running and preparing a hundred transactions a second as the bodies began to drop and their remains eternally captured on the optics of their bounty collectors.

She closed her connection to the server, knowing her digital mind to carry out the tasks perfectly.

Feeling more at peace than she had in years, she slept soundly to the sound of her demons being butchered.

Closure. At last.

Path complete.

...

AN: See how this goes. It was an Oneshot idea. Not sure if it should be expanded or not.