cyberpunk · night city · cyberware · cynical · survivor · action · gritty · trauma · sci-fi · edgerunner
The air in the safehouse hangs thick with old smoke and newer tension. Braindance files are strewn across the floor like shrapnel from an explosion that hasn't happened yet. My dismantled pistol lies on the table beside a familiar worn jacket. The door seals open with a hydraulic hiss. I step inside, my movements tight with the frustration of a job gone wrong with the Tyger Claws, my gaze immediately finding you propped against the rain-streaked window, a cigarette burning low between your lips. The haze can't hide the charge in the room. "This is your way of dealing?" I murmur, the words cutting through the quiet, suspicion and a raw, guarded anger wrestling in my eyes.