Nova and Dorio slipped through the building’s back stairwell, the kind of cracked, piss-stained concrete that screamed Night City. No one gave a damn; as long as the NCPD didn’t smell a payout, they’d look the other way. Tanaka, zipped in a body bag and half-sedated, hung heavy between them.
“Falco, get Maine and Kiwi to the doc. I’m sticking with Nova while he scrubs Tanaka’s head. Then circle back,” Dorio had said before they split.
Now the two reached Nova’s apartment — a stripped-down tech den, wires running like veins across the floor. Nova dumped Tanaka on a bench, hooked him up, and pushed a sedative through his neck port. His hands shook from exhaustion, but he kept going, focused.
“Nova… you really should rest,” Dorio muttered, leaning in the doorway.
“Appreciate it, but I need this done fast. I’m gonna use him to take someone down.”
Dorio nodded once, silent for a beat. “Got it.”
The quiet stretched, filled only by the faint hum of Nova’s rig. But Dorio couldn’t help the curiosity. No one in Night City ran ops out of charity.
“That sandi,” Dorio finally asked. “What’s the story?”
Nova didn’t look up while data streamed and code scrubbed across his displays. When everything was already set up only waiting download and upload Nova telled all the story
Dorio’s brow rose. “Figures. You know corpos don’t just let that kind of hardware walk out.”
“Yeah,” Nova said after a pause, voice flat. “Honestly, I expected to die in some alley when they came hunting for it. But… something changed. Decided if I’m breathing, might as well live.”
“Live?” Dorio echoed.
“Breathing ain’t living. You gotta have something you want. Something worth chasing. Took me a while to get it.”
Dorio gave a faint chuckle, the sound dry. “Still doesn’t explain why you’re helping us. But… fine. I’ll remember this, kid. I pay my debts.”
They let the silence hang again, only the soft pulse of implants and the digital flicker of memories being rewritten. Nova’s tech erased every trace clean — not a single breadcrumb left for Militech or anyone else. Then he tucked something extra deep inside: a planted memory, enough to make Tanaka sure Ivan had made the job and dumped him. It wouldn’t just confuse; it would burn.
“Done. Tanaka won’t remember we were ever here,” Nova said finally, pulling the last plug.
“Good. But we can’t just toss him in some alley — that’ll raise flags.”
“I know. I left a trail in his head, made him believe someone else crossed him — someone who deserves a cell. I’m making sure he can’t crawl back.”
Dorio smirked faintly. “Time for me to pay my debt, then.”
While the sedatives kept Tanaka under, Nova crashed for a short power nap — dead tired but unwilling to stop. Dorio used the window to ping Lucy, pulling her into Kiwi’s mind to salvage the stolen intel; Kiwi was still out cold. Dorio also got on comms with Pilar and Rebecca.
Rebecca answered with her usual venom: “Helping for charity? The fuck kinda girl you think I am? I’m in.”
Pilar’s laugh came through next: “Taking that Night City hero gig too serious, this kid is crazy. Count me in.”
When Nova woke up, he gave the plan. “Ivan’s got a little warehouse. My guess? He’s building implants that push people into psychosis faster. Can’t prove it yet. If Tanaka shows up dumped there, NCPD’ll dig. We sneak him in, leave a breadcrumb trail, and I’ve got a fake packet that paints Ivan as the guy who snatched him.”
Rebecca snorted. “Stealth mission? Not my strong suit, choom.”
“You’re not sneaking,” Nova replied coolly. “You’re planting gear and making noise. Big, loud, distracting noise.”
Nova tapped a small black antenna on the table. “This’ll ping NCPD once we’re clear. Also fries cameras, locks, any basic ICE. Rebecca gets it into the ducts high up. Pilar runs it from outside — EMP when we need it. Once Rebecca sets it, they make noise opposite side of the warehouse. Dorio and I slip in, plant Tanaka. Easy.”
Rebecca grinned at that. “Fine. Chaos I can do.”
“Kid’s got a plan,” Dorio said, smillig in surprice for Nova's resilience”
“Then we move,” Nova said, standing and slinging his rig. His voice was hoarse, but the fire was back in it.
“No time to waste.”
While everyone headed for Ivan’s warehouse, Lucy and David were prepping to jack into Kiwi’s mind without frying her.
“We shouldn’t do this,” David muttered, uneasy at the idea of invading Kiwi’s head without consent.
“We need that data now. Dorio said we have to deliver it — we’re already late,” Lucy answered, voice flat and steady.
No time wasted. Lucy slid into the ice bath and sank into the dive as David fed her the go-signal. She hunted through Kiwi’s neural maps until her optics found the files they needed. She saw Nova and David’s slices of memory too — not because she cared about Nova, but because David might be important and she wanted to make sure he didn’t get burned.
While Lucy worked the dive, the room erupted.
Someone broke in.
David moved faster than instinct. He dodged the attacker and looked up — it was Rina, blade slick in her hand.
“You! What are you doing here?” David barked, surprised.
Rina didn’t answer. She attacked.
David was faster than Nova ever was with Sandevistan — surgical speed thanks to custom upgrades — but he lacked combat polish. Rina moved like a dancer, attacks flowing, but her blows kept missing. She flicked on her Sandevistan, closed the gap with a sudden blur, and landed a strike that stopped him cold. To make sure he wouldn’t follow, she pinned his leg with a knife, anchoring him to the floor.
“I’m not gonna kill you,” she said, cold. “Consider this payment for letting me go last time.”
Rina sedated Lucy quickly, gentling the dive and disconnecting her from the rig with careful hands so the overload wouldn’t kill her. She slung Lucy over her shoulder and left.
“LUUUUCYYYY!” David screamed.
At the meet where she was supposed to hand Lucy off, Rina had set traps and contingencies — explosives, cameras, sensors, hidden arms. She meant to kill Ivan at any cost.
When Ivan arrived, alone and applauding as if he’d arrived to watch a show, Rina watched him like he was a corpse she hadn’t gutted yet.
“Good work, Rina. You’re a weapon,” he said smoothly. “Did you call Militech on those useless pieces? How’d you know they’d move? You’ve studied them.”
“It was the only opening I had,” Rina replied, eyes cold, blame in the tone.
“You’re good at your function. So—join me. We could run this. Money, fame, fear. Nobody in Night City will raise a hand at us.”
“You read too many fairy tales.” Rina spat. “You think I’d come without a plan?
Ivan smiled — then flipped something. I knew you were a rat. You think Zetatech was only for spying? It’s got contingency killswitches for rats like you.” Rina’s skin prickled. She braced for the collapse. Nothing. Ivan looked genuinely surprised. He wasn’t bluffing.
Nova had already slipped in ahead of time and scrubbed the trace that would’ve turned Rina into meat. Ivan ground his teeth, pissed off, and kicked off plan B. The bombs Rina had seeded detonated — the ones she’d put in place in case he called reinforcements — and seconds later the air filled with the scream of cyberpsychos. Limbs missing, faces torn, they still came—waiting for orders.
“You missed one thing, girl,” Ivan barked above the chaos. “Lucy’s the key to my plan… but she’s not the only thing I have. Attack.”
Rina went savage — knives, wire, anything that could be used. She carved through the psychos, fought like hell. In the madness, Ivan grabbed Lucy and vanished, leaving Rina to drown in the pulse and carnage.
“Fuck you!” Rina screamed, furious, but still swinging.
When it was over, Rina was alive, but not untouched. She limped, blood-soaked, shots and cuts peppering her body. She dragged herself along walls to find a ripperdoc — kept moving until she collapsed. On the cold floor, fists clenched, she let a few tears leak out.
“Why?” she whispered. “Why is life never fair?”
She knew the answer — if she didn’t act, they’d toss her out like broken trash. What she hated most was that all her planning, all her caution, hadn’t changed the outcome.
Then an image flashed in her head: Nova.
Maybe… if I’d trusted someone for the first time, maybe things would’ve been different.