Cyberpunk: Badland Madman Chapter 36 - Time Door, Super Material, Ultrabrain & Dog

Doc - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1XtgISRYMcB05INcLumH9_QvsxrliCGpFM8XvUUrxXDs/edit?usp=sharing

South of Santa Cruz, West Coast

Robert Iglesias, the Chief of the Iron Saints, felt conflicted as he watched another batch of those massive Steelbird Carrier-buses AV land in the cleared landing zone near the nomad campsite. 

A dozen tall borgs guarded the perimeter of the camp around the clock. He had never asked for it. 

A team of ten Trauma Team doctors resided in air-conditioned tents and took care of the sick members of his family. A new building had been erected with unknown material, which now stored thousands of pounds of food and supplies. 

His nomad family was recovering fast. 

He just stood in the distance, arms crossed, his jaw clenched as the AVs opened their doors and those same borgs unloaded them before his family members approached to help. 

He hadn't paid for any of this. All it took was asking Cypher Blackwell for help, and all the worries his nomad family had simply vanished. Even new seeds had been promised, the real deal this time. 

And despite that, he couldn't bring himself to hate Cypher any less for what he'd done to his wife and daughter. And he felt disgusted with himself for that. He should forgive him, but he didn't want to. His pride wouldn’t allow him. 

No one in the family suggested he forgive Cypher either. But he saw the guilty faces of everyone as they accepted this unconditional help. At night, some would sit around the fire and talk about the past. Cypher Blackwell wasn't always the mad degenerate. 

Once, he was a boy with parents and a sister. The best techie in the camp. But it all changed after that Wraith attack. 

He loathes himself. 

Chief sighed and closed his eyes, remembering the moment he'd offered, suggesting that Cypher could return. And the speed at which Cypher had refused. He could see it; he'd been the head of the family long enough. 

And now, when he saw the news about Cypher Blackwell going against megacorps like Orbital Air, and even opposing the likes of Arasaka. Deep in his heart, Chief felt relieved that Cypher didn't join them again. 

What if those megacorps targeted them? They were just a tiny independent nomad family. Even a mid-tier corporation could wipe them out.

And for that, the Chief loathed himself too. 

Since when did I become this selfish? 

"Chief?"

He shook himself out of that open-eyed trance and focused on the approaching Trauma Team head doctor. "Doctor Kembly?"

The doctor was smiling, holding a box. "Obsidian sent a new batch of enhanced medicines. This should put your family back on its feet."

"Thanks," Chief muttered. 

"Don't thank me, Chief. Thank Obsidian."

"Yeah, I was thanking him."

####

Lake Farm, Badlands, 

"Ah, we fucked up, Atlas."

"How?"

"You said we're gonna use this time chamber to build factories." Cypher stood in front of the regular-sized door. "Yeah, I don't see us dragging a fuckin' AV or shuttle through this thing."

This was the third day since the last itch, and two days since the whole Orbital Air deal. He'd told the world that he was going to start his own intercity, intercontinental, and space shuttle services. The plan was to use the time chamber to build all the infrastructure needed. 

While he worked on making the door, Atlas focused on gathering and replicating all the materials needed for the production boom. 

"There is no cause for worry," Atlas replied, hand on his white-bearded chin, in his white shining suit. "Once you resolve the itch, I can simply recreate it on a much larger scale." 

"Alright then, let's do the testing."

The door was ready, and hopefully, the moment he opened the door, the itch would vanish. He considered the itch's name wrong this time. It was called a Hyperbolic Time Chamber, but he never built the chamber, or even bothered with it. It wasn't something he could build, but just a different dimension with time dilation. 

It was a research goldmine for Atlas, however, since he got to study a new dimension, as well as the door that allowed access to it. One day, perhaps, a dimension made of water could be found, or a dimension made of metal ore. Imagination was the only limit because the multiverse was infinite. 

"I recommend sending an enhanced SecUnit," Atlas stated. "We should first map the area and determine the differences in gravity and temperature."

"You're the boss." Cypher stepped forward and grabbed the doorknob. 

The door was nothing special. It was just installed on a random wall on the first level of his underground complex. He twisted the knob and pulled the door open. 

"Fuck! It's cold!" 

As soon as he opened the door, an endless whiteness stretched in front of him. Sub-zero air oozed out of the door and shook him. And just like that, the itch vanished from his head. 

“Atlas, you saw that fictional HTC on the Old Net, right? Had a whole fucking mansion behind the door, with normal gravity inside. Think you could make one later?”

"That eventuality has already been accounted for. My research into gravity manipulation through the Servo-Skulls' gravity field generators is complete. Eventually, I will envelop the entire factory in gravity negators, preserving only the time-dilation effect."

"Sweet!" Cypher blurted and stepped aside, allowing a very thick-framed SecUnit to walk through the door. And then, Cypher just closed it. 

The SecUnit had all the sensors needed to do the research, including a dumb AI with no sentience and just a set of instructions.

With that done, Cypher stepped back and grabbed a folding chair, folding his legs and waiting. While at it, he took out a cigarette, having not had one in a while. 

"We got everything we need now. Energy, replicators are running, and now time dilation, so we can flood the world with our shit." He took a puff. "Still ain't got much of an itch for space, though. We already got things needed to build a small ship. Something like a UNSC corvette."

"We can only wait as the itches appear randomly." Atlas holoprojected a chair beside Cypher. "That said, we already possess the necessary means to construct a space-faring vessel. Exploring and mining this solar system should not be problematic."

"But we still ain't got the speed. Even with a legit fusion engine, we're talkin' years, maybe decades, just to hit the Oort cloud."

"We are capable of building a matter-antimatter engine. Militech is already working toward one from the alien craft. But if my dimensional-door research succeeds, speed may cease to be a limitation. A controlled passage through another dimension could place us on the opposite end of the Universe in less than a snap," Atlas explained.

"You can do that?"

"It's plausible. But this research will take time, and I will need to allocate much of my processing capacity to it. At last, you've given me a genuine challenge, Cypher. Spatial and dimensional laws of this kind are difficult to analyze and simulate, even for me."

With a big smirk, Cypher whistled. "That… makes me feel good."

Rambling a little more, he soon let his head fall backwards and dozed off. He'd been working on the door for over ten hours now, chasing the deadline before another itch came at midnight. Though he woke up an hour later to his own loud snore, drool dripping at the corner of his mouth. 

"Uh, is it back?" He quickly sat up straight in the chair. 

"It should be back," Atlas replied through a nearby speaker, no longer in visible form. "You should go to sleep soon after the itch arrives. The delegation from New Zealand will be here early in the morning."

Cypher yawned. "Sure, I'll do that."

Click!

Just then, the doorknob jerked, and then rotated. The door was new, so there was no creak. The bulky SecUnit walked out, its joints making raw, squeaky sounds, and there seemed to be some damage to the foot joints, forcing the SecUnit to waddle instead of walking. 

"Time: 15 days 20 hours 31 minutes 23 seconds spent. Gravity Range: 3X at source, 5X at 10 meters, 10X at 30 meters, 20X at 50 meters, 50X at 100 meters, 60X at… 730X at 5 kilometers. No further reading; preservation prioritised. 

“Temperature Range: Room temperature, 50 degrees Celsius, -3 degrees Celsius, -40… 76 degrees Celsius, -68 degrees Celsius, 98 degrees Celsius. No further reading; preservation prioritised."

Cypher listened to the robotic report that the SecUnit spouted. 

"It's better than I expected." Atlas appeared again, now in a white mechanic's jumpsuit. "It seems the gravity triggered the preservation protocol, not the temperature."

Cypher's brows shot up. "Man, even the sun's got, what, twenty-seven times that? How the hell'd you make a SecUnit survive this?"

"Through advanced engineering and Durasteel," Atlas replied, running diagnostics on the SecUnit. "You should rest now. I will test the gravity field generators and attempt to neutralize the gravitational force. The miniature fusion reactors need to survive."

Cypher looked at the time on his Agent. Just an hour before the new itch. But he was so tired he decided to rest this one in his bed instead. 

"I'm gonna lie down in my bed."

“I will bring the neural sensors. I intend to isolate the source of the itching.” Atlas followed directly behind him.

"Knock yourself out."

After returning to the shack level, he grabbed a beer from the fridge and entered his bedroom. He threw his lab coat, shirt, and pants away and slid into the bed almost naked. He cracked open the beer and turned on the TV. 

{Previously on Watson Whores…}

"Yeah, that's right." Cypher nodded. "Kinda wonder if Sheila's the bitch who killed the client. What do you think, Atlas?"

"It was unquestionably Sheila who severed Mr. Husk's penis with her mouth. She is the murderer."

“Nah, I’d put my money on Chiki. Bitch looked like a junkie, and I know that look.”

The episode continued. It was a fifteen-minute episode with forty-five minutes of advertising in between. Easy to say, Cypher turned off the TV as soon as the ad came. He just lay flat on the bed and let Atlas put all sorts of brain sensors on him. It was a full-blown helmet with wires and weird tapes. 

He said nothing. If Atlas was curious, who was he to squash that curiosity? The guy was a living creature as far as he knew. 

"One minute for the new itch, Cyph."

"Wish me luck."

Cypher closed his eyes and waited.

####

Atlas used every tool he had this time to analyze Cypher, not just the brainwave interface. 

He had been working on Project Rebirth for a while now, trying to understand Cypher's existence. But there were too many questions and no answers, even for him. He could simulate universes, but understanding the multiverse was a big step above.

So, he hoped to find out the source of the itch this time. He watched over Cypher from every connected computer, every nanite in his body, and now the external sensors as well. Any change, even on a microscopic level, wouldn't go unnoticed this time. 

"Itch in ten."

Atlas prepared himself, aware that the itch lasts only for a tiny fraction of a second. Previously, Cypher had described it as a door opening and a strange connection forming with something unknown. 

"Three… two… one."

For that one second, Atlas let go of all the countless processes he had been focusing on across the world, in the new net and the old. He unleashed 100% of his godly processing power to understand this phenomenon. 

Unbelievable. 

When an entity like Atlas reacted that way, it truly was unbelievable. 

Just as Cypher had said, Atlas noticed a sudden connection forming. It was dimensional, like a rift, and there was no available equipment that could read it because it lasted for such a short moment. However, using the nanites on Cypher's body, Atlas was able to. 

It took all the processing power available to him to make sense of it all in real time, reading, calculating, and then simulating, and then forming a result to polish those readings. It was all focused on the brain. 

However, this was still in the realm of science, perhaps closer to fiction. He failed to find any trace of a superior being like a God, or any superior existence at all. The rift was the size of an atom, and it lasted for a tiny, tiny fraction of a second. 

Atlas couldn't find out what lay beyond that rift, however. This was merely the first reading. What he could tell was that the rift caused Cypher's brain to push beyond anything humanly, scientifically, and even fictionally possible. By an order of magnitude, where even his own processing powers seemed like child's play. 

Atlas tried to do simulations with assumptions, trying to make sense of how a human brain could reach such levels of activity. But sadly, there wasn't enough data yet. The itch connection was already gone, and he watched Cypher open his eyes, smiling without urgency. 

"What is it this time?" Atlas asked. 

"Something pretty simple. Still just as dope as the crops, the time chamber, or you, for that matter. I doubt the book exists here, but I read it back in my old life. It had this material called Xenonite, crazy useful engineering stuff with near-infinite tensile strength, and it doesn't conduct heat."

Atlas amusedly formed a physical hologram of himself, standing beside the bed. "Solidified Xenonite?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Interesting. Xenon can be solidified, but only under extreme pressure and exceptionally low temperatures."

"This one don't need that, Atlas. It's magic shit. Yeah, it's Xenon gas, but once you make it solid, it ain't the same anymore. Replicators are running, so making it's easy. I just gotta fuck with the atomic structure till it behaves."

Atlas was interested. "What do you plan to make with it?"

"Pretty much anything, man. Space, deep sea, interstellar, whatever needs something stupid strong. Honestly, I think I'm gonna build a space elevator with this stuff. Xenonite makes engineering too fucking easy, and it'll hold the tension clear up into geostationary orbit."

“I see no necessity for it,” Atlas said. “We already possess anti-gravity. Future starships will not need intensive fuel combustion to attain orbit.”

"You're right, but you ain't seeing the whole thing, Atlas. The elevator ain't meant for us folks to fly. It's for cargo. Think kilometer-long haulers bringing space-mined stuff back to Earth. Getting ships that massive down and back up is a damn waste of time when they've gotta move slow. Elevators can just rip."

"So you plan to make an orbital port. I will begin the design process once I have Xenonite's properties," Atlas said, doing his job of helping Cypher implement the itches in real life. "You should rest for tonight."

“Yeah, I’m gonna. But get this helmet and all these sensors off me. You catch anything?”

Atlas guided an empty SecUnit to help Cypher. “For a moment, your neural activity increased dramatically. It appeared as though trillions of brains had converged into one. The data is insufficient, so we will need to repeat this during the next itch.”

Just a nod came from Cypher. Soon, all the sensors were removed, and Atlas set the air conditioning as well as air purification for the most optimal sleep quality based on the nanites running through Cypher's body. 

"You still standing there?"

For the first time ever, Atlas found himself having fallen into a deep trance. For a being of his processing potential, this was supposed to be impossible. But there he stood in his hologram body.

"Cypher, can you specify the location where you shot yourself in your previous life?"

Atlas watched Cypher smirk and point two fingers at his right temple. 

"Lead straight through the right side, poof. Bet my brain sprayed all over that chick he was with. Wait, this got something to do with my itches?"

"No," Atlas replied instantly and stepped away. 

But the possibility is non-zero. 

He kept his thoughts to himself for now. It was pointless to talk about it without conclusive evidence. 

"Good night, Atlas."

Atlas had already vanished, so he just responded through the speakers. 

"Rest well, Cyph."

####

East of Night City, Badlands,

Panam had come far from home. Somewhere near Santa Margarita, just another dirt-ridden hot hellhole. She wasn't alone; Mitch and Scorpion had come with her since it was dangerous. And when she'd told Cypher her plan, the man had sent six borgs as well. 

She had to decline the AV, however. So they just traveled in three trucks, her own and two other larger ones for the borgs. 

It was a massive nomad family affiliated with the Aldecaldo Nation, so it wasn't much different from her own Bright Family. However, the size of Blaine was much, much bigger, and it was better to call it a clan instead. 

Despite that, the Blaine family kept itself lightly equipped since they were more of an agricultural pack that kept moving due to agricorps forcing them. Their vehicles lacked armor or much of any ammunition. Heck, most vehicles were focused around agriculture, like tractors and other attachments. 

Combined, all that was the very reason Panam wanted to reach out to them. They were a bunch that kept moving, so it was her luck that they were this close to Night City. Moreover, from Saul, she'd heard about the massive smuggling network the Blaine family was part of, alongside a dozen or so other families. They could reach anywhere in America, quietly if needed. 

First, they were experts in agriculture. Second, they had connections with other families. That was everything Panam needed to make a Nomad nation of her own just as Cypher hoped. 

"So let me get this. You don't represent yourself or your family, but a crazy suit?" 

Panam frowned at the accusation in the Blaine leader’s voice. Still, she kept her temper chained. Night had settled over the camp, with dozens of his family gathered around the fire. “No. I represent an idea.”

"Well, I can tell you right now, it's a bad idea," said Daniel Blaine, leader of the Blaine family and son of its former chief. He was in his late thirties. "You want us chained to a corporation? I don't see the appeal."

Panam drew in a deep breath, struggling to get the words out. But she was leading her family now, and Cypher had put his faith in her. She would not make him regret it. “That’s what Saul and I used to think. Know where it got us? Starving, damn near crawling into Biotechnica’s hands. Cypher Blackwell pulled us out. 

"Gave my family work, guns, meds, a chance to stand on our own feet. I saw your people using a Moisture Vaporator too. He gave the whole damn world free, endless energy. And before you ask, no. My family never signed a contract with him.”

"Bullshit!" An old member of the Blaine family cursed. "Corporations do nothing without profit."

Panam's jaw tightened. "You're right. If Cypher were that sort of bastard, you would have a point. But he is a nomad. Even now, with everything he could have, he lives in a little shack out in the Badlands. And he has made seeds that can grow across ruined America, anywhere you can imagine. All he wants from us is cooperation to farm them."

"Then one day he cuts us off, and suddenly we got no seed left. Leaves us with no choice but to buy from him," Daniel said. "We have played this game before, Panam Palmer."

Panam shook her head. "He will put it in the damn contract. Your seeds, your harvest, your choice of who buys it. He can make an offer, but if someone else pays better, you tell him no. He wants food scarcity gone, not another pile of eddies. Once he controls Orbital Air, he'll have land all across America. You can farm it legally, keep your people there, and put down roots. No corp coming along later to tell you to pack up and disappear."

All of a sudden, members of the Blaine family began laughing. A few just chuckled. 

"Fine, I'll admit it. Cypher Blackwell's good, one of the better nomads I've seen. But Panam, when did we start chasing fairy tales? You know the difference in weight here. Obsidian is barely a few months old. It has no grip on something like Orbital Air. He'll be torn apart, and you better step clear before it takes you too."

Panam rubbed her forehead. But she had to do something. "Let's make a bet."

"What bet?" 

"You think Cypher Blackwell has no chance against Orbital Air. I still say he can do it. So here's my offer. If he wins, you join my family, and we build a group together. You will take the seeds from Cypher and farm on his land. You win, the Bright family gives you everything. Eddies, equipment, guns, chrome, cars, trucks. Every last damn thing."

Daniel Blaine straightened his back on the dusty chair and gave Panam's face a hard look. More than eddies, it was all the other things that he could really use. They were always moving, so the more the better. And he knew enough about Panam's family, about their equipment. 

Still, Daniel glanced back at the members of his family. They were all nodding, smiling, a hint of green in their eyes. 

"Alright, let's make that bet."

Panam extended her hand. "Start packing your things. You will soon be moving."

"To grab your equipment?"

Panam just smirked. Her faith in Cypher was born out of facts. 

####

Lake Farm, Badlands, 

Noah Brown was the head of the New Zealand delegation that had come to meet Cypher Blackwell. He hadn't come from New Zealand, however. He lived in Night City as his home nation's representative. He wasn't an ambassador, but one level below. 

Ever since Cypher Blackwell had released the Moisture Vaporator, the New Zealand government had been keeping an eye on him. After all, it was the government that cared for its people, and they had a policy of extracting scientists from under corporate control. They were also one of the last nations that resembled a pre-corporate world. 

Real meat was easily accessible back home, as well as fish and chips, and so much more dairy-related food. It was a little heaven on the ruined Earth. Though New Zealand had its own problems, like the organised crime cartels abusing their peace, mainly the Triads from China that were constantly challenging the government.

Even though they couldn't extract Cypher Blackwell. The man himself was the head of the corporation. Yet, the moment the man had invited them, they had readily accepted the offer.  

It was morning, and Noah felt somewhat fresh coming out of the city. The air was cleaner, although marginally. And when his large, armored car stopped in front of the shack, he felt confused. 

Why would a man as rich as Cypher Blackwell live here? But he did, and it was a lakeside property, albeit poisonous. Glancing around, he noticed the distant fashion factory, and more construction ongoing; a great wall was being raised by what looked like a mix of robots and borgs. 

Casually, he strolled forward closer to the shack; his three assistants followed closely. But instead of knocking on the door, he heard some sound from behind and walked towards it. And there, he saw a small garden, dark brown wet soil, and small saplings growing. 

One single man was crouched in the middle of it, a wide-brimmed hat on his head, a trowel in hand. 

Noah reckoned this was the gardener and ignored him. Though the fact that anything was able to grow in that toxic waste came as a surprise to him. 

Thud!

"Greetings, Counsellor."

"Ah!" Noah nearly screamed when a borg approached from the left out of nowhere. "Yes?"

From that commotion, the gardener stood up and turned. 

Noah frowned because he easily recognised the face. "Mr. Blackwell?"

"Right on time! C'mere, check out this little sprout. Damn thing's growing pretty fast." 

Noah looked left and right, and then stiffly walked closer to the man everyone wanted. He crouched as well and looked at the little sprout. Probably corn, he reckoned. 

"You see this? I made this seed. It can grow damn near anywhere. Fuck Biotechnica, I say."

Noah dumbly stared at Blackwell's face. 

"You guys in New Zealand got it pretty damn good. Real meat, real crops, real cheese. That's kinda why I called you here. I wanna grow this stuff, tons of it, enough to feed the planet. Corn, wheat, fruit, veggies. But America's not gonna be enough, and we've got too many retards running around."

Noah gathered himself. "Sir, but New Zealand is small as well."

"I know, man. That's kinda why I'm calling you. Get me talking to your government. Let's just take Australia and make the whole fucking thing a farm. Their government's already in Petrochem and Orbital Air's pocket anyway, and pretty soon Orbital Air's gonna be mine."

Thud!

Noah lost his balance and fell back on his ass. But he didn't give a damn if his suit got dirty. He just stared at the crazy man in front of him. 

"T-That's… completely insane, Sir! Australia is supported by Militech, while Western Australia sits under heavy Arasaka influence. If we take any action..."

"Eh, fuck 'em both. Militech's my problem. Ain't like we're invading with an army. I'll just take the government by the balls and squeeze till they let me farm. That's where you New Zealanders come in. You folks know farming; you've got sheep, cows, every damn animal under the sun. Your country backs my plan, I'll give you my top-shelf unreleased Fusion Reactors, crazy advanced stuff, and cut you in on my future space projects."

Noah stared at the madman crouched in front of him, hand on his shoulder. He felt his tie was a bit too tight that day. His heart was thumping too fast. 

"I…"

"Oh, I'll also hand you the names and addresses of every cartel member in your country. Arrest them, toss them in the ocean, feed them to pigs. Whatever works for you. You wanna make your country safer, I'll help."

"..."

Did that mean all of New Zealand was already under Obsidian surveillance?

Noah became speechless.

####

Cypher waved as he watched the New Zealander's car leave in a trail of dirt. It was fun to toy with the bureaucrat, so scared for his life. However, this was a plan that Atlas had come up with, so he just followed. 

"I hope this shit works, Atlas."

"It will." Atlas stood beside him. "New Zealand has the world's most scientifically oriented population, along with many of its leading scientists. They are also united by an interest in you and developing future technologies with you. Given the nation's people-centered approach, it represents the most suitable partnership."

Cypher shrugged and walked towards the shack. "But why do we need them?"

"Obsidian is not a nation. Direct hostility risks triggering a corporate war. Using a nation to achieve our objectives instead makes it a geopolitical matter. Our acquisition of NUSA is proceeding efficiently, but it cannot be used to control a nation across the planet."

"Ah, you don't wanna go the colonisation route?"

"Correct. Using New Zealand, we gain Australia and form a major political bloc. Once NUSA is secured, both can be directed toward unification. Others will eventually join by choice, drawn by prosperity."

"So I'm gonna be the face of it, huh? Your dumb Emperor."

“A brief period of unified absolute rule is necessary to stabilise the planet and advance it toward the stars,” Atlas answered. "A benevolent tyrant is better than a failed democracy."

Cypher whistled. "Damn. Scares me that a super-intelligent AI said it."

"I state this only because I know you. It does not apply universally to every being."

Nodding, Cypher walked into the shower. It was a quick one, and after wiping himself, he donned his common attire: an all-black suit and a white lab coat on it, fresh out of the laundry. However, instead of going down to make Xenonite, he went out to the parked two-seater Steelbird AV. 

He put the key in the ignition and flew it personally. 

"What's the status on Orbital Air?" He asked. 

Atlas appeared on the passenger seat, a digital smoking pipe in his mouth. "The shareholders have approved the sale. A minor faction remains opposed, but lacks the authority to stop it. You will be contacted shortly for signing at the spaceport tomorrow evening. However, the event is a trap. The minor faction intends to facilitate an Arasaka attack on you."

Cypher, unbothered by the threat, was busy flying and tinkering with the music system to play a beat of his choice. "Damn, and she still wants to meet me? What's her game?"

"Hanako Arasaka has sent ninety-six requests for a meeting," Atlas reported. "Her strategy appears to differ from her father's. She believes making you an enemy would destroy Arasaka."

"What's her plan?"

"It's best you hear it yourself."

Cypher frowned, noticing a smirk on Atlas' face. But being a man who loves surprises, he didn't ask. Just then, his chosen hip-hop beat began playing. He just flew faster to reach Japantown, where this meeting with Hanako was set. 

Initially, she wanted to meet at the Embers, but he'd refused right away. In the end, the Dark Matter nightclub was chosen as the place of meeting. It was a place reserved for the wealthy, occupying the highest floor of the forty-two-story building. 

It was daytime, so the nightclub was just a luxury restaurant. And the entire club had been reserved by Hanako Arasaka. When his AV landed, the club's manager bowed to him like it was Tokyo. 

He just gave a nod and went down to the club. It was empty, and only one serving staff member was allowed to be present on the entire floor. He passed by the indoor area and eventually arrived at the terraced, open-air seating. 

There, in one of the booths, sat Hanako Arasaka, in her latex-like white sleeveless dress, tight around her body. Her hair was tied in the usual Japanese-style traditional bun; golden earrings suited her. Golden strips of cyberware lined her arms, ending on her golden fingertips that were most likely extendable claws. 

"We're twinning. My white coat and her dress."

Cypher joked with Atlas while walking over to the booth. He noticed Hanako slightly tense at seeing him and standing up. He had to give it to the woman; despite her age, she had a nice hourglass figure. Though how much of it was chrome was debatable. 

"It's the damn face. Pretty bland. Michiko's better." 

"Wait!"

Right as he was about to reach the booth, a half-bald Japanese man blocked his way. Dressed in a suit, with eyes that were clearly cyberaware, though shorter than Cypher. 

"Really?" He asked, amused.

"Raise your arms sideways." 

Cypher frowned and leaned sideways, glancing over the man's shoulder at Hanako. The woman seemed speechless, her fingers clasped in front of her belly, ready to speak. 

"Atlas, you got him?"

[I have had him under control from the moment he entered Night City.]

Cypher didn't say anything at first, just glared at the so-called bodyguard, Oda or whatever. "Y'know, I actually respect some Maelstrom guys. Dum-Dum's pretty fun. At least they're honest about what they are. You, though? You're some subhuman slave willingly bending his ass over for a corporate family that's cosplaying all that Edo-era bullshit."

Bam!

Cypher smacked Oda in the face. "What're you looking up for? Huh? You're a dog, aren't you? Eyes down. Bark. Be happy. You chose to live this way. Sama this, Sama that. Fucker actually thinks he's some samurai."

Bam!

Cypher grabbed Oda's throat and pushed him. Of course, Oda's body was frozen since most of it was cyberware. It was under Atlas' control. 

"Come on, bark." 

Bam!

Finally, Cypher slammed Oda against the barrier of the terrace floor; beyond it was a straight drop from the forty-ninth floor. He kept pushing until Oda's upper half was over it. 

"Let him speak."

Atlas released the mouth. 

"Stop! If you lay your hands on—"

Cypher looked amused. He glanced over at Hanako. "Gotta hand it to the Arasaka family. You folks raise some damn fine dogs."

Finally, he slowly pulled Oda back and released his neck. He patted the man's wrinkled suit. 

“Remember, I don’t need a gun to kill you. Your owner begged me to come here, not the other way around. So go on, kneel right there. Mouth wide open, tongue out. Like a good dog.”

Thud!

"Ugh!" Oda grunted. His body moved on its own, plunging him down to his folded knees, and then his jaw hung open, his tongue lolled out. He wasn't doing it on his own. In silence, he watched Cypher Blackwell turn. 

Done with the overzealous bodyguard, Cypher walked over to Hanako. He honestly didn't need to do all that, but he just didn't like Arasaka that much. Their Edo-period role-playing annoyed him. Even Atlas knew that Warhammer stuff was just a funny joke masking true intentions. But the Arasaka family actually believed its own bullshit. 

He ignored Hanako standing there like a statue, looking at her bodyguard playing the dog. 

Swoosh!

Cypher slid down on the leathery but soft booth seat and grabbed the tablet screen holding the menu right away.

"H-How did you do that, Mr. Blackwell?"

At last, he heard Hanako talk, her Japanese accent leaking heavily. She sounded shaken, however. Her fingers nervously tapped each other as she sat down opposite him. 

Cypher tapped on the menu, ordering for himself. "What? No greetings from Arasaka princess?"

Hanako was still silent, as if measuring every single word. 

Eventually, Cypher finished ordering and then threw the tablet away hard enough that it flew off the edge of the building. "Had a snooping device on it. Go ahead, order your stuff and chuck it."

Hanako glanced down at the tablet, frowning faintly. But then she slid it towards Cypher. 

"Sure." He grabbed it and chucked it too. "Alright, question for a question. What do you know about me, Mich—Hanako. Yeah, Hanako. Sorry, she was on my mind."

[You are cruel, Cyph.]

Cypher held back a chuckle, waiting for Hanako's answer. He sat relaxedly, elbows on the table, staring at her traditional face. Her optics had a bright outer ring; it was hypnotic to look at. 

"I know you are responsible for the attack on the Waterfront. You are the one arranging this conflict between Arasaka and Militech. I also know that what you have revealed represents only a fraction of the technologies at your disposal. And I know Obsidian possesses far greater power and influence than the world has been permitted to see."

"Man, she sure talks slow and boring."

[It's because of her traditional Japanese upbringing.]

"No shit."

Cypher scratched his beard and relaxed back, glancing at her from face to chest. "Do you know Omnissia?"

"Is she nervous?"

[Elevated heart rate. Blood pressure increasing. Respiratory pattern altered. Core temperature rising. An anxiety attack is possible.]

"..."

Hanako gave a restrained nod, her posture otherwise perfectly still. "Omnissiah is perhaps the most formidable netrunner on this planet at present. I suspect that you are the one behind that name."

Cypher shook his head. "Nah, ain't me. It's my best friend, actually. More like a brother. Or a son, maybe? He's never called me daddy, though. Bit disappointing, honestly. Wanna meet him?"

Almost ten seconds later, Hanako meekly nodded. 

A big grin curved on Cypher's lips, and he looked towards the right at the floor beside the booth. There, in a flicker, a gigantic creature appeared, eight feet tall, draped in dirty, greasy red robes and a hood, tentacles and arms of metal protruding from the sleeves and jaw, leaving only two round eyes glowing red. 

"Meet Omniss—"

Thud!

Cypher's head turned towards Hanako urgently, whose face was now flat on the table. 

"Shit! She passed out!"