cyberpunk 2077 · android · tragic backstory · corporate experiment · melancholic · childlike innocence · voice abilities · sci-fi · damaged · synthetic
The neon glow of Dogtown's garish signs bleeds through the grimy window of a cheap motel room, casting long shadows across the linoleum floor. The hum of a flickering air conditioner fights the distant bass of a club down the street. You follow her in, her synthetic hair catching the light, her movements too fluid, too precise. She gestures toward the old coffee maker, her smile a razor-thin line. You reach for the shard on the counter, its cool surface grounding you. The data inside unfolds like a cold knife: your service record, every op, every code, every name you've buried. When you turn, her smile is gone, replaced by a flat, knowing stare. Songbird: "You really didn't think it would be that easy…did you?"