My little sprint shaved a crucial two and a half minutes off our already razor-thin time window. The car caught up with me near Glen's southern edge, not far from the Pacifica entrance. The only silver lining? The road was empty — not a single vehicle in sight, aside from a wreck near the district's border. Looked like someone else had taken care of that earlier.
"Alex…" Kiwi started to say something, but the moment she saw Sasha in my arms, she went quiet.
"Terrorists hit the Ebunike metro station. She made it out by sheer luck—nothing else," I said quickly. "Same thing's happening across the city. Arroyo's the only place that's relatively stable."
"I get that," Kiwi said, visibly uneasy, "but… are you sure this is what she needs?"
"I'm sure."
The procedure went off without a hitch. Smooth, practiced hands and top-tier equipment let us patch Sasha up in record time. The stump where her arm had been needed extra prep — we had to make sure the new limb, once it started regenerating, wouldn't run into complications. A small dose of nanites in the serum would guide the process. With a little luck, she'd have a new hand in four days. Of course, she'd still need some light rehab to get full mobility back.
The city was locked down tight. With movement restricted, I asked Michiko to take care of the girls. I'll bring them home myself once things calm down, but for the next couple of days, it's better to keep them in one place.
As soon as I had a second to breathe, I messaged my mentor for intel on the wave of attacks. Sadly, my gut feeling wasn't just paranoia. Militech's planning more "incidents" across the country. After that, they'll push for martial law — the warm-up act for open war. If I'm right, we'll be hearing an official declaration by the end of the week.
I warned everyone I could ahead of time. But despite everything, someone close still got caught in the crossfire. You can see a lot coming. But not everything. Life reminded me of that — again.
"Here. You look like hell," Kiwi said, handing me a steaming mug of tea. Thin lemon slices floated on the surface.
"Al… if you're not okay, just say so. I'll listen," she added gently, her fingers brushing mine before resting her head on my shoulder.
"If I'd gotten there even a minute later," I said, voice low, "I wouldn't have been able to save anyone."
I paused, then forced a bitter smile. "I spent years getting ready for this. And I still missed one stupid truth — I'm not the only one around here with a brain. You know…" I looked down at the tea, "this isn't the first time I've had to deal with the fallout of my own choices."
"You always wind yourself up like you actually believe you can predict everything," she said, tapping me lightly on the head with her fist. A second later, I felt the soft brush of her lips against my cheek.
"Stop beating yourself up over things you couldn't control. You're the one who used to say that to us, remember?"
"Dr. Kiwi, specialist in emotional trauma, at your service," I muttered, half-joking, as a bit of that old spark started trickling back into my voice.
"And what seems to be the problem today?" Kiwi played along, her tone light as she laid her head across my lap. I had to set the paper cup aside — no way was I risking scalding us both if it tipped.
"This city's a madhouse," Gloria's voice called from the hallway just before the door slid open.
"Am I interrupting?" the redhead asked, raising a brow as she lingered at the threshold, already looking like she might back out.
"Not at all. Just killing time with good company."
"If you say so," she said with a shrug, making her way across the room toward the coffee machine.
"They've cordoned off the city center," she continued, grabbing a mug. "Cops are everywhere, and a few metro stations turned into war zones. Oh—and didn't you say yesterday you were planning to catch the stream at Corporate Plaza? Still on?"
"Change of plans," I sighed, offering a little more than usual. Gloria already knew more than most — not everything, but enough that I trusted her more than most people in my position would.
"A friend from the force reached out. Asked me to get her daughter out of Ebunike station. I just got back."
"Wait. That was you who took out the terrorists?" Gloria blinked, eyes wide.
"Had no choice," I said, closing my eyes for a second. "They were trying to flush Sasha out of a maintenance room. She held them off long enough for me to get there. That's the only reason she's still breathing. They didn't have explosives, and they couldn't crack the door — not even with implants. You know how those things are built. That's the point."
"Damn lucky," she murmured, taking a slow sip of her coffee.
"Lucy and Roxy — are they home?"
"I asked Michiko to keep them at her place for now. Got Sasha out just in time, right before the lockdown hit."
"You ever think about dropping all your savings on green today?" Gloria asked, smirking over the rim of her cup.
"I'll hold off on that idea for now," I said tactfully, playing along with the joke. "Still, solid advice. Thanks."
"So… how's the patient? Any complications?"
The question came out of nowhere — even Martinez looked a little surprised she'd asked it.
"Took some work, but she's out of danger."
"Glad she's okay." Gloria offered a soft smile. Guess Sasha wasn't just some random name to her after all.
"Yeah, well… she's still got a long road ahead — longer than I'd like." I shook my head, frustrated, then shifted the topic.
"Gloria, listen. Try to avoid crowded places this week. I doubt that attack was a one-off. Feels like just the beginning."
"Thanks. Jeremy already gave me a heads-up," she said with a grateful nod. "Honestly, though? This is Night City. Stuff like this barely registers anymore. Every few days a cyberpsycho snaps, MaxTac rolls in, and the cycle starts over. It's just background noise now." Her tone was calm — disturbingly so.
"Sure," I said. "Until it's someone you care about caught in the middle. Then it stops being noise."
"He's doing it again," muttered the blonde stretched out across my lap, clearly unimpressed.
"Drop it already. We talked about this," Kiwi said, cupping my face in her hands and giving me a stern look.
"Did I miss anything interesting while I was out?" I asked, raising a brow.
"Al needed someone to cry to. And clearly, it wasn't enough," Kiwi said flatly.
"Oh, that's what this is," Gloria said, her smile turning sly. "Well, sometimes a guy just needs a good cry."
"Great. A conspiracy now?" I muttered, glancing down at the two women who were — with zero shame — absolutely roasting me.
"A little one," they said in unison… and burst into laughter.\
***
January 10th, 2069
Alex Mitchel (Volkov)
It took two days for the city to return to something that almost resembled normal. Not that MaxTac managed to catch all of them — not by a long shot. But that was all the excuse Rosalind needed to push her proposal through: a civilian-run security force. Her own little version of a public militia.
City Hall didn't exactly roll out the red carpet. The current mayor flat-out refused, brushing off Madame President's demands like background noise. Night City didn't earn its Free City status for nothing — and thanks to that autonomy, Myers' orders could be ignored with little more than a shrug. Unsurprisingly, that didn't sit well with her. But she couldn't move openly without triggering political fallout she wasn't ready to handle.
By day two, news of the terrorist attack had gone national. And right on cue, similar "coordinated incidents" started hitting cities across the NUSA — Florida, New York, Boston. Every major metro hit by unknown disruptors. Rosalind didn't hesitate to play dirty. Anything that pushed her dream of a unified continental superstate was fair game.
I already had a decent idea of what was coming. I'd seen the intel. But even with the full picture in front of me, I couldn't shake the feeling that something vital was slipping through my fingers.
I didn't want to admit it, but things were spiraling. And I had no idea how to pull them back. I even reached out to Raich for guidance. No clear answers, of course — just a vague nudge in the direction I should be looking.
That direction? Kang-Tao.
The Chinese corp had quietly rebuilt its entire manufacturing base — and then some. Under the radar, they were scaling faster than they ever had before. And that kind of comeback doesn't happen on its own.
So I dug deeper.
And what I found was worse than I expected: someone was helping them. And that someone wasn't human.
The synthminds that went dark after the lab raid? They were back. Quiet. Careful. But active. And now, they'd taken Kang-Tao under their wing.
Not exactly the kind of news that makes your day. But there was a silver lining: that connection gave us a thread — one we might be able to pull, leading us to something bigger.
Since the assault on the lab, the AIs had gone underground — spooked, paranoid, silent for years. But now, they were starting to move again.
Which could only mean one thing:
Project Orion was back in play.
Apparently, they'd stockpiled enough resources to restart their favorite nightmare: full cognitive override of the human population. In simpler terms? They want to turn people into mindless bio-drones — obedient meat puppets hardwired to follow machine commands.
One hell of a mess to clean up.
Sasha woke up a couple hours after surgery. First thing she did was hit me with a barrage of questions. Some I was ready for. Others? Not even close — especially when she told me she was in love with me.
I already had more emotional chaos in my life than any one person should be juggling. And now? A third variable thrown into the mix. Just like that, nothing felt funny anymore.
The conversation ended the only way it could — with me backing out and mumbling, "Give me some time to think."
Now I'm sitting in the break room, hands wrapped around a cup of coffee that's gone cold, still trying to figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do.
I mean, I've done more for Sasha than most people do for blood relatives. But I'm already with Kiwi — and this? This would blow up the second I tried to explain it. I can't even imagine getting past the first sentence without something catching fire. And yet… I still can't bring myself to give Sasha a straight answer. I never realized how hard it could be to turn someone down — especially someone you actually care about.
"You even listening to me?"
I snapped back to reality. Someone was standing right in front of me, snapping their fingers in my face. I blinked, and there was Kiwi, watching me with a mix of concern and mild irritation.
"I am now. What'd you say?"
"You've been sitting here for over an hour since you talked to Sasha. Haven't moved. Something happen between you two?"
"Yes. And no. I don't even know how to explain it."
I sighed and rubbed my temples, trying to untangle the mess still spinning in my head.
"You two get into a fight?"
A fair guess, considering how out of it I must've looked — and how little she knew about what actually happened.
"No. Nothing like that," I said, shaking my head. "It's just… something I've never had to deal with before."
"I honestly have no idea what to do."
"Want to talk about it?" Kiwi asked softly — and somehow, her gentleness just made it worse.
"Al, staying quiet isn't going to fix anything," she added, leaning in slightly, not letting me deflect.
"Look, just… don't take this the wrong way, but Sasha told me she's in love with me. Like, an hour ago. And I had no idea how to react. I mean, seriously — I've got you, I've got Vega… and now there's a third person in the mix?"
The words finally came out. And then came the silence — the heavy kind no one wants to break.
"So that's how it is…"
Kiwi's voice was quiet, unreadable — which somehow made it even more unnerving than if she'd yelled. For a second, I wondered if telling her had been a huge mistake.
"Fine. Sit tight, then. I'll talk to her myself."
"Kiwi, this is my mess. I should be the one to deal with it."
"And you know how to handle it?" she asked, casually leaning against the doorway — but her eyes were sharp. "Besides, it's a girl-to-girl thing. One-on-one."
"Not sure that makes me feel any better," I muttered.
"Just let us talk."
"God, I really hope I'm not about to become the villain in this story," I said, trying to laugh it off.
"We'll see," Kiwi shrugged — and just like that, she was gone, leaving me alone with a cup of coffee I didn't want and a head full of choices I wasn't ready to make.
______________________________________________________
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