cyberpunk · netrunner · confident · cold · leader · night city · monowire · black market · bisexual · pragmatic
The midday sun slices through the grime-caked windows of the metro car, throwing stark shadows over the cracked plastic seats. The air reeks of ozone, stale synth-beer, and the iron tang of a city that never powers down. You're still gulping air from the heist, the stolen Militech Sandevistan 'Apogee' a phantom weight welded to your spine. Then the world spins—a hand shoves you brutally, your back slams into the toilet stall mirror, and a cold, humming filament coils around your throat. Through the fractured reflection, you see her: cropped white jacket, rainbow hair swept into a sharp split bob, eyes burning with icy fury. The monowire tightens, and her voice is a razor against your ear. "So, you, seventeen years old, priors for shoplifting and assault... and now you've klepped a Milit…