Chapter 2: Trigger

June 15th, 2072

Every city is built upon a dream. Even the most hopeless, agonizing cities filled with the torturous cries of innocents were built upon dreams of a better life, a better future, and better lies.

Founded in 1994, Coronado City was another city with its bricks cemented on the hopes of the people. Designed and funded by Richard Night and his corporate sponsors, the city imagined a utopian future where the plagues of mankind could be free within their city walls. An imitation, perhaps, of some of the safest and wealthiest parts of the EEC (European Economic Community) in the failing United States of America. In a way, it was ironic although some may find it unsurprising that the city never came to be what it was meant to be. From the city's very infancy, the worst that humankind had to offer crept through the city's open doors. The mafia, the triad, and the corporations who had come to collect their dues. Still, Richard Night endured as he put his life into turning this city into the city of his dreams. Alas, his assassination in 1998 put those dreams to rest.

In the decades since Richard Night's untimely end, the dreams of the founder have wilted, warped, and ultimately decayed. A city of peace riddled with entire zones sectioned off and labeled as 'Combat Zones'. A city of people so pure and happy is infested with soulless corporations, indoctrinating legions of their own while leaving those unfit for service to suffer. In the times following the founder's death, the dreams turned to nightmares.

Inside an abandoned warehouse on the edges of Santo Domingo, a crime was just finishing up. Scavengers feeding scraps and the bottom feeders of the city never to be found, never to be missed. Hundreds disappear each year and thousands more are unaware that they have attracted the eyes of the bottommost predators of the city.  To be taken by the scavengers was considered one of the worst ways to go, even by Night City standards. Considered second only to being burned alive by Black ICE while Netrunning; alas, it was a story all too common.

In this specific case, it was an orphan girl who had just escaped the clutches of her orphanage. 'Orphanage' being an incredibly liberal sense of the word. Her first attempt at a free life, to make something of this chance only to be snuffed out by the pits of despair the scavs had thrown her into.

At the very least, she could close her eyes in peace knowing that she had escaped that hellhole. She could only pray for a miracle once more…just like that time. Just like when the Arasaka soldiers had thought her dead, allowing her to crawl to survive.

… …

Some deaths are but a moment. A bullet to the head, a knife through the heart, a charge of electricity through the body. As far as deaths go, these could be considered merciful.

Some deaths take a little longer. Perhaps one would bleed out from a wound, or an infection takes its time, or death by fire. These deaths are not merciful.

Finally, there are deaths that feel eternal. Where death is no longer a finality, but rather an agonizing process in which stretches for what may feel like an eternity. Their tormentors keeping the victims alive for their sickening amusements. When death is no longer something to avoid, but a prayer on the victims' lips.

That is death.

A body tangled in chains was dragged out from the recording studio. The large woman pulling the body behind her like a rag doll and dumping it onto the orthodontic chair like one might see at a Ripperdoc. The said body was still alive, barely, as the shallow breaths were slightly audible as well as the occasional whimpers from her parched lips. The large woman began untangling the girl from the mess of metal chains as she lassoed the length before throwing them gently to the side.

It was a pitiful sight, a pitiful sight. Her bones were almost visible through the skin showing the sheer amount of time that she had been locked up in this place…although in some other parts, bones were literally visible. Her left hand had been severed at the wrist and a crude cauterization attempt had not done much good in closing the wound. Signs of infection already making up her arm, it was a miracle the girl was alive at all.

Her body showed signs of pain through purple bruises, whip slashes, cigarette burns, and worse all over. Some of her teeth had been pulled out, her optics brutally removed forcing her to cry tears of blood, and her only possession of value…her cyberdeck had been brutally removed from her head and the hole stuffed with rudimentary nanobots and cotton.

"Vwat's zis one?" A heavy Eastern European accented man came from her left.

"Snuff. Maybe guro." The woman replied.

"Zis one vwouldn't doo much good." Something sharp prodded her legs, drawing blood. She couldn't even move anymore. "No rheaction. Bwaindhead."

"Snuff then. Record first, find customers after. There's always a market in this city"

"Vhery vell.

A small red light from the large woman's optics showed that she had begun recording as the doctor took out a bloody machete. "Zee old vways"

The doctor's blade fell, cutting deep into the left shoulder of the girl, stopped only by the collarbone. Her body twitched slightly from the force…and suddenly drew in a deep breath as if shocked by defibrillators. Her lips shaking and the legs quivering, unable to do anything.

"Vweird" The doctor commented as his grip around the machete tightened. As he tried to remove the blade to strike again, he heard a single phrase.

"I don't wan… die…I won't die." It was barely audible, less than a whisper, but it was there. The doctor turned to his companion who was recording the whole thing with a visible smile now. She gave him a thumbs up at the reaction.

A jolt from her limp body as her mouth opened all the way…as if her optic-less eyes had witnessed something grand. As if it had seen god.

Before he could twist the blade for something more, he heard another whisper.

"Path to survival."

The girl's right hand jerked to life as her thumb pressed directly into his left optic. The electronic system was overwhelmed as the nerves in the back of his head were crushed by the force.

"Faaaucckkk!!" He withdrew his hands as he covered his bleeding eye. His last mistake, as the girl's one good hand reached for the machete still stuck in her shoulder, twisted it out, before stabbing it into his exposed neck between his arms. His one functioning optic was frozen in shock as he witnessed the girl rise from her chair like an undead from a bad horror braindance.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Years as a scavenger had prepared the large woman for many emergencies. While this was something that had never happened before, she was capable of reacting fast. She reached for her sidearm, safety always off, as she began to unload shots into the monster.

The monster held up her dead companion with her one good arm as he absorbed the bullets before ripping the machete out and jumping behind the chair for cover. For just a single second, she stopped her fire to see if she had landed any hits on the girl…

And the next she saw a long blade and the handle sticking out from somewhere above her. In front of her, the girl with her hand outstretched as if she had just thrown…

Oh.

She fell backward and didn't get back up.

… …

A vision of something impossible. A sight of beings greater than anything she had ever witnessed.

Everything hurt. Everything burned.

What was happening? Why couldn't she see anything? Where were her eyes?

She was going to die. She was going to die!

Was her arm cut off? Why couldn't she move?

She didn't want to die. 

Why did she deserve this?

Who was she? 

Who am I?

Live. Live!

"Path to survival"

[Designate length and control]

"Now!"

And her body moved.

[Step 1: Move right arm up, position thumb upwards, push, then twist]

She felt her thumb feel some resistance before pushing into something she couldn't recognize. An uncomfortable warm yet slimy feeling giving her an idea of what she had just done.

[Step 2: Free machete from shoulder and stab upwards]

Something was happening…every movement, every action. She was somehow so sure that it was the right thing to do. A feeling of knowing that this was going to work.

[Step 3: Roll over, use your hand to grab Bratislav's neck, and take position under the body]

She felt the bullets collide with the body in front of her as her mind tried to follow what was happening.

[Step 4: Hide behind the chair for cover. Wait]

[Step 5: Throw machete]

Path Complete.

Just like that, the feeling of…sureness, the confidence, the safety was gone.

Still stuck in the darkness, she tried a thought.

Path to seeing.

And the feeling was back.

[Step 1: Walk over to Susan's corpse]

Even though her legs shouldn't even be able to hold her weight at this point, her steps were perfect. Each step was executed with such purpose and confidence. She felt as if she could walk for miles like this.

[Step 2: Reach down. Gently put three fingers around the right optic]

[Step 3: Push down and put fingers around the optic. Unlatch]

A soft click indicated that whatever she was doing, it was working.

[Step 4: Take out the optic. Turn it around and wipe with her shirt. Remove dust and residue.]

[Step 5: Plug into the right socket. Twist until latched]

Click *zzt*

Path complete

A single eye went online as her world came to light. Through reflexes, she lowered the brightness as she took in the room around her.

It was a room straight out of a horror film. Dirty concrete floors were wet with all sorts of fluids, trash piled into the corner with white plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling to indicate that this was a medical room. Two dead bodies, scattered organs, and cybernetics hanging on shelves and crude-looking devices along with ice baths to preserve whatever had been harvested.

Her stomach lurched at the sight as she fell to her knees, now weak without whatever was helping her. Her one good hand and her stump, on the ground as she began to dry hurl. Gulps of air and whatever little fluids she had left in her system came coughing and hacking up as she further dirtied this already defiled room.

Her thoughts at this point were flying at a thousand miles. Hundreds of unanswered questions…and at the forefront

Who was she?

[Step 1: Recall memory]

Path Complete

Her thoughts reorganized as memories, almost echoes, were pulled from the madness inside her brain. A life before this. A Choose Your Own Adventure…a different world…a video game? Animation on a streaming platform? The choices she made…and the memories stopped.

But who was she?

[Step 1: Recall memory]

A more specific memory surfaced. Drawback: Amnesia. Forget everything about your life. Personalities and traits will remain. 

Path Complete

*bang!* "She's in here! Kill the bitch!"

"Path to survival. Eternally" She mouthed.

She felt nothing…this couldn't be good.

[Path to immortality set to passive. Beginning path]

[Step 1: Pick up the gun]

[Step 2: Reload] A magazine was thrown into the air with her feet before she swiped her gun midair as the mag popped into its slot.

A bullet pricked her calf, drawing blood.

"Path to avoiding injury. Eternally."

[Path to avoiding harm to host set to passive. Beginning path]

She fired a shot through the wall knowing that it would hit the scavenger between the eyes. She kicked a small stool with wheels towards the entrance knowing it would trip the next one.

And yet, she felt nothing.

But, who was she?

[Path unavailable.]

How did she get here?

[Path unavailable]

What was her name?

[Path unavailable]

Even through the tears blinding her optics, she failed to not miss a shot.

… …

[Step 47: Sound out words. Push gun barrel into her face]

Sofiya, the scavenger ripperdoc, obediently patched up the last of her wounds. She now had a cybernetic silver arm attached to where they amputated her arm shoulder down, a lot of bandages and nanobots throughout her body, and her cyberdeck reinstalled to her neck.

All the while, she had used her new power to keep conscious through the surgeries while holding a gun at the ripper docs' head.

What would happen if I just leave now?

[Path to finding out if host leaves site peacefully.]

A thousands steps flew through her mind as she looked through the future. Not a single soul alive in this building would keep quiet. Every single one of them would snitch on what had happened…and she would have people following, trying to capture her, trying to kill her. Again.

"Please…" Sofiya begged her as the last of her wounds closed. "I have children."

[Path to finding out if Sofiya is telling the truth]

[Steps…] She scrolled to the end.

[False. Sofiya does not have any family or children]

Her new optics blinked red unconsciously in displeasure. Something Sofiya was quick to understand as she got on her knees. The doctor was tempted to use the syringe to try and poison the monster…but she had watched the monster rip apart her entire den.

She couldn't try it.

"Please…"

[Path to ensuring Sofiya doesn't share anything about what happened here or me]

She realized too late as the path, only a single step, executed itself.

*BANG!*

Path Complete

The scavenger doctor dropped dead like the others in this worn down building.

The nameless girl's hand shook before she dropped the damn thing as well. High on pain medication and no longer feeling the threat of immediate death, she ran out of the room, limping as she did so, and into the deepest part of the building she could find. Back into the studio.

She crawled to the corner of the wall as she curled up in the dark. Her knees brought up to her head and her arm…and her new metal arm holding herself. Here she allowed herself to cry.

Only to be interrupted as her path activated her cyberdeck and called for help. It felt like an eternity before she saw the flashing lights searching through the halls of the building.

"..eful, might be a cyberpsycho attack."

"Think we should call NCPD on this?"

"Patient first. We got a distress call from inside this building somewhere."

A beam of light passed her, temporarily blinding her as her optics adjusted for the brightness automatically.

"You think it's her?"

" …yeah, gotta be. Location indicates it's her."

She didn't look up as she heard footsteps approach her.

"Hello?" A woman asked her. She didn't respond. A small light flashed into her optics. "Okay, she's responsive."

"Thank god for small mercies." Her partner responded. "I'll see what else we've got on our hands. You keep watch over her."

"Mmhmm." Two hands held her by the shoulders, making sure she didn't tip over. "Stay with us, okay hon? It's gonna be alright."

She flicked up optics slightly to get a better look at the paramedic.

Gloria Martinez

"Everything's gonna be okay."

In a moment of idle thought, she looked at the paramedic's future. Years into the future.

Screams. Animals. A Sandevistan. A promise.

No, it wasn't. Everything was not going to be okay.