Kiwi dove into Nova’s subconscious like she was swimming through liquid code. The massive ICE wall looked intimidating at first, but as she touched it, it cracked like fragile glass. Data spilled out around her like glowing shards. She saw Nova’s memories play out as if she were living them herself. A simple techie, repairing and assembling cyberware, writing clean code—nothing special.
She kept digging. His work with Regina? All legit. No black market deals, no dirty hands. His name came up clean, fully licensed, even corporate-approved.
Then she saw it. The accident.
Kiwi felt it hit her like it happened to her own body. The screams, the impact, the panic. The emotions flooded her neural link so fast that her physical body, floating in the ice bath, started heating up.
Then—silence.
Kiwi was in a ripperdoc’s clinic now, staring into a cracked mirror. The reflection showed it: that strange organic implant burrowed deep into Nova’s back. And then came the training—grueling, obsessive. Day in, day out, he pushed his limits, reshaping himself around this alien tech. His life took a sharp turn after that.
Kiwi decided she’d seen enough. She shifted focus to their mission, sifting through encrypted memories. That’s where she found it: the truth. Nova and Rina weren’t out to sell anyone out—they were trying to expose Ivan’s plans.
No red flags. No betrayal. Nothing that posed a threat to Maine’s crew.
She disconnected.
“He’s clean.” Kiwi’s voice was flat as she stepped out of the ice bath, droplets rolling off her pale skin. “No plans against us.”
“Tch!” Maine snarled, his jaw clenching. “Then what do you have?”
“Not much,” Kiwi admitted, crossing her arms. “The intel we got about Nova coming for us is total bullshit. The guy named Ivan? Delusions of grandeur. This isn’t our fight—it’s all on them.”
“He’s clean. Do what you promised,” Dorio said, her arms folded tight.
“I’m not gonna let some punk decide my fate,” Maine growled. “You think I’m gonna throw away everything I’ve built? All this strength?”
“How about we settle this in a fight?” Nova’s voice cut through the tension, a cocky smile spreading across his face. “If I win, maybe I can prove to you that you don’t need all that chrome to be strong. And hey—I don’t have a single piece of chrome in my body.”
Maine’s lips curled into a feral grin. “Fine. Sounds like the perfect excuse to fuck you up.”
No prep, no hesitation. They cleared out a room—bare walls, nothing but space. Nova stood on one side, Maine on the other. The crew gathered in a circle. On Maine’s side: Dorio, Kiwi, Lucy, David, and Rebecca. On Nova’s side: Rina, still cuffed but glaring like she’d break her chains by sheer will.
“Bare fists. No weapons, no hacks. First to drop unconscious or tap out loses. Begin,” Dorio said, standing between them as referee.
Maine cracked his knuckles, neck rolling with a metallic creak. Nova bounced lightly on his feet, his stance loose but ready, a Muay Thai fighter’s rhythm in his steps.
Nova struck first—quick jabs to Maine’s ribs, a flurry to his gut, and a sharp kick aiming for his jaw. But Maine’s massive chrome hand shot up, catching Nova’s leg midair.
“Gotcha, punk.”
Maine swung him like a ragdoll, slamming him into the wall with a thunderous crash. Nova coughed, the impact knocking the air clean out of his lungs. He dropped to his knees, spitting blood, but his eyes stayed sharp.
“Not done yet…” he rasped.
Nova pushed himself up and circled again, this time with caution. Maine came at him, his fists like wrecking balls. Nova weaved and dodged, each punch close enough to graze his hair. One hit landed on Nova’s arms as he blocked, sending him skidding backward from the sheer force. Breathing hard, Nova waited for Maine’s next charge. As Maine swung, Nova slipped inside his guard, grabbed his arm, and used Maine’s momentum to flip his massive frame just enough to land a brutal knee into Maine’s face.
The giant stumbled, his arms betraying him as he tried to rise. Nova didn’t hesitate—he launched a straight punch square into Maine’s jaw, snapping his head back and sending him collapsing to the floor.
“See?” Nova panted, wiping blood from his lip. “All that chrome doesn’t mean shit if you can’t control it. What happens when it’s life or death, and your hardware fails you?”
Maine lay still for a moment, his fists clenching and unclenching. Slowly, he pushed himself up, glaring—but not with rage. There was something else there now.
“You cocky little shit…” he muttered. “Fine. You made your point.”
Dorio’s grin was impossible to hide. She clapped her hands together. “Fight’s over. Looks like Nova wins.”
“You’re working under our watch. Don’t think I trust you yet, kid,” Maine growled, rubbing his jaw.
“See? That wasn’t so hard! Dumb bastard!” Dorio barked out a laugh, slamming her hand on Maine’s back and pulling him into a half-hug.
“I’ll need my gear if you expect me to get anything done,” Nova said calmly.
“Then go get it,” Rebecca cut in, her tone sharp.
“It’s not that simple, Rebecca.”
“Can you take these off already?” Rina said coldly, rattling the chains binding her wrists.
Lucy’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t trust the ninja one bit. “You’re staying under watch,” she said flatly.
For now, the air eased. Maine’s crew wasn’t gunning for Nova anymore. Sure, he was still on a leash, but he held up his end of the deal. He worked for hours without rest, combing through schematics and code to find a solution to Maine’s creeping psychosis.
Then—he cracked it.
Nova engineered a custom chip that tricked the brain into recognizing chrome as natural extensions of the body, suppressing the confusion and involuntary spasms that triggered psychosis. But it won't last long, the chip is to weak to handle all the chrome, he will need to find a way to power up that chip.
David, tasked with “keeping an eye on him,” approached Nova. “You’ve been grinding for hours, choom. We’ve got a little get-together tonight. Might do you good to step outside and breathe.”
Nova exhaled, his eyes tired but grateful. “Yeah… sure. Sounds better than staring at another line of code.”
The night was alive with neon and static basslines. Out in the Badlands, the crew’s rides were parked in a loose circle, their speakers thumping as drinks flowed and laughter carried over the dry wind. Food trucks flashed cheap LEDs, smoke curling into the air.
Pilar, center stage as usual, was putting on a show—acrobatics and wild antics, getting cheers from the small crowd. Then he spotted Nova.
“Ladies and gents!” Pilar shouted theatrically, spinning on his heel. “I give you the hero of Night City—Nova Stray!” He exaggerated his words, throwing his arm over Nova’s shoulders the second he got close.
“Not that I’m complaining, but couldn’t you have saved me whole, choom?”
“Yeah!” someone yelled from the crowd. “Now he can’t suck this—”
“Hey…” Pilar’s tone went flat, his eyes narrowing like he was dead serious for a moment.
Then, his voice jumped back into manic energy. “BUT I STILL GOT THESE!” He raised his hands and made obscene motions up and down, sending the crew into a fit of laughter.
Nova smirked faintly, shaking his head as he stepped away. He grabbed a drink from a cooler and posted up beside David, soaking in the night.
Suddenly—a heavy slap to his back. The hit sent him choking mid-sip, spraying the beer in a fine mist.
“Looks like I misjudged you, Nova,” Rebecca said, grinning wide. Her brand-new Gorilla Arms gleamed under the dim lights.
Nova turned his head slowly, eyes landing on Rebecca, who stood with those chrome gorilla arms flexing like she was ready to tear a car in two. He didn’t say anything at first—just watched her, expression unreadable.
“What’s wrong with me? Huh? You don’t like me?” Rebecca snapped, narrowing her eyes. Her voice cut sharp, expecting the same judgment she’d gotten a million times before.
“I like you,” Nova replied flatly.
That stopped her. Just for a second. Eyes wide, caught off guard by how genuine—how casual—he sounded.
“What’s wrong with you!?” she barked again, louder this time. “Ugh! Anyway, I just came to say thanks... for what you did for my brother.” Her voice dropped a little, not softer, but more real. “When he got outta that coma and started talkin’ again, he wouldn’t shut up about you. Said you were a damn legend. Seems I misjudge you."
“Oh really? Weird.” Nova answered with deadpan sarcasm, barely glancing at her.
Rebecca’s fuse hit the end.
“Oh, what about—fuck you!”
She launched a fist straight into Nova’s chest—one punch, then another, hard enough to dent a damn truck. Nova stumbled back, holding up both hands like a truce flag.
“Wait, wait! I’m kidding! I’m glad Pilar pulled through.”
“Hmph! Whatever,” she huffed, arms crossed now but her smirk betraying the fact she wasn’t really mad. “Buy me a better drink next time, chromehead.”