A calm voice echoed, not from the room, but from deep within Teo's skull.
"Beep...Beep...Beeeeeeeeeeeeep......beep." The insistent tones drilled into his brain, pulling him roughly from the warm, crusty depths of morning wakefulness.
"Beep." Teo's brows furrowed, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "SHUT UP!" he yelled, scrambling to put his hands over his ears, a futile gesture against the presence nestled in his very mind. His covers lay tangled at the foot of his bed, long kicked off in his restless sleep, leaving him shirtless, in just his boxers, exposed to the dim morning light filtering into his basement den.
"You are awake. It is 7:00 AM. Get up and get to work." The voice, calm and smooth, carried an undeniable inflection this time, amusement. A cold, unsettling shiver traced its way down Teo's spine. 'Okay, that's new,' he thought, his irritation warring with a growing unease. 'More emotions? This thing's learning fast. And it's a real dick about it.'
"What are you, an alarm clock now?" Teo snarled, pushing himself up on his elbows, the bare synth leather mattress creaking beneath him.
"Yes," the 'creation' responded, the amusement in its tone more pronounced, almost a digital smirk. "Now playing local Night City news."
"NO WAI-" Teo began, but it was too late.
"Alright, Night City, it's Blitz on WNSD, 107.5! Quick hit!" The broadcast blared, assaulting Teo's OS at an ear splitting volume. "Word from Dogtown's hotter than a freshly flatlined choom's chrome, seems Kurt Hansen's mercs just 'liberated' a NUSA supply convoy trying to skirt the border, and President Myers is already holocalling threats about 'unification measures' and 'containment breaches!' So much for peace in our time, huh? On a lighter note, if you see an NCPD patrol bot performing the 'Valentino Two Step' near Corpo Plaza, just... keep driving. No, seriously. Keep driving. You didn't see a thing."
The news report echoed with startling clarity inside his head, a digital assault that made his teeth ache. He scrambled around in his bed, pressing his hands futilely against his temples, trying to stop the broadcast, to yank it out of his OS, but the 'creation' just laughed, a low, buzzing sound that vibrated through his bones, and unceremoniously kicked him out of the tab altogether.
When the broadcast ended, the silence in the room was deafening. Teo lay panting on his bed, his bed head already a wild mess of dark crimson hair. He felt utterly violated, like someone had just rifled through his wetware and left a mess. "I have a new name for you," he rasped, glaring at the empty air, "It's Fucker. BECAUSE EVER SINCE YOU INVADED MY BRAIN, YOU'VE SKULL FUCKED ME LIKE A JOYTOY ON A FRIDAY NIGHT!"
The 'creation' responded in a mock sad tone, a digital whimper that was disturbingly convincing. "That's rather... r-rude. Disparaging."
"Oh, so you can show emotions now? Or is that fake, you cheeky prick?" Teo demanded, pushing himself off the bed. He stomped towards his small bathroom, the worn floor cold beneath his bare feet.
"Hehe," the creation replied, the digital chuckle undeniable. Teo cursed under his breath, a faint tremor running through his left hand. He slid into the tiled shower. He flicked the control, and cold water immediately hammered against his chest. He shivered violently, the initial shock doing little to calm the burning indignation that flared hotter than any fever.
He stood there, not even bothering to wash, just letting the frigid needles of water pelt his skin, the cold clarity a strange relief on his still-overheating body. He leaned his head against the tiles, the constant hum in his skull dulled slightly by the rush of water.
He closed his eyes, then opened them, and found himself silently playing the familiar melody in his internal OS, 'I Really Want to Stay at Your House'. It started as a low hum in his head, then burst from his lips, raw and uninhibited, cutting through the spray.
"AND I MISS YOU ALL THE TIME!" Teo yelled, his voice rough, full of an accidental longing for connection that surprised even himself. He scrubbed furiously at his legs, trying to wash away the lingering grime of the scrapyard, the phantom feeling of gore on his skin.
Just as he straightened up from scrubbing, he heard a voice from outside the shower curtain, deep and familiar. "Teo?"
"SO GET AWA-EYAAH!" Teo shrieked, startled, the sudden interruption making him jump. He shot his head out from behind the curtain, his angry emerald optics blazing like an enraged cat. "¡¿Qué carajo, estúpido gordo de mierda?!" he yelled, glaring at the silhouette of his cousin.
Jackie leaned against the bathroom doorframe, arms crossed, a wide, amused grin splitting his face, his massive frame almost filling the narrow opening. "I'm not fat, hermano! I'm big boned!" he retorted, his own voice tinged with mock anger.
"Says every fat person ever," Teo shot back, sticking his head back into the shower to turn off the water. He reached out a hand, blindly grabbing a towel draped over a nearby rack, wiping himself down with practiced efficiency, then wrapping it around his waist.
He pulled the curtain back and stepped out, running a hand through his soaking wet, dark crimson hair, pulling it back from his face. A few rebellious strands still rested on his forehead, glistening. "So what do you want, tubby?" Teo asked, his voice still a little gruff, annoyance warring with the usual affection.
"Nothing much, hermano. Just got done with some biz in Watson," Jackie replied not even responding to the fat comment again, he walked out of the doorway and flopped onto Teo's synth leather couch in the den. The worn cushions groaned in protest under his weight, exhaling a puff of dust. "Was hoping you'd wanna go catch up or something. Haven't seen your ugly mug since that Arasaka gig."
"Sure, just let me get ready," Teo mumbled, heading into his small bedroom nook. He quickly brushed his teeth, the cold mint a stark contrast to the lingering metallic aftertaste from last night's work. He pulled on his usual garb, a simple white wifebeater, baggy cargo pants, and his heavy combat boots.
He slipped Padre's ornate gold ring onto his finger, then looped his father's weathered golden chain cross around his neck, the cool metal settling against his skin like a silent promise. He emerged from his bedroom doorway and plopped onto the coffee table across from Jackie, settling in.
"Heard you were out late last night," Jackie said, his playful tone gone, replaced by a subtle seriousness that always made Teo's stomach clench. He analyzed Teo's face, his gaze sharp and knowing, missing nothing.
Teo froze for a second, the memories of the scrapyard, the tremors, and the 'creation's' cold, analytical voice flashing through his mind, and Angels smile...No! NO! He didn't think that forget it, wipe it from your memory.
Teo didn't respond, he just started to chew his fingernail, a nervous habit he absolutely despised. Jackie noticed immediately. He knew Teo better than anyone, that nervous chew, there was one thing he hated about Jackie, it was how he could pick Teo apart in just a second. His left hand, still trembling almost imperceptibly, was a dead giveaway.
"What happened, hermano?" Jackie pressed, leaning up slightly, his concern palpable, his voice a low rumble.
"Nothing," Teo responded, the word clipped, too fast, his eyes darting away. He chewed more, the rough texture of his nail a focus point.
"Nothing? Hermano, you're chewing your nails. I've never seen you do that in my life. And your left hand is trembling like a bad actuator. This from the new chrome?" Jackie said, getting up from the couch. He moved closer, grabbing Teo's head gently, his fingers brushing the subtle seam on his forehead where the COX-2 Optimizer was installed.
He squinted at Teo's emerald optics. "Probably these creepy eyes of yours, huh?" he teased, trying to lighten the mood, but his concern remained, a heavy weight in the air.
Teo slapped Jackie's hands away, a flash of irritation warring with his desire to hide. "I'm fine, Jack. It's nothing." He got up, moving over to his desk, needing distance, needing to escape the feelings talk, ugh.
He grabbed "Bon Bon," from the table. Some fine wires were hooked up to the weapon, connected to a small diagnostic port Teo had installed himself. He'd been tinkering with its internal energy flow, trying to put more raw power through its circuits without blowing the weapon's fragile core. His fingers, despite the tremors, moved with practiced precision as he re calibrated a microscopic flow valve, then polished the barrel to a mirror sheen.
"Mama told me you went out last night," Jackie said, undeterred, coming up behind Teo and sitting casually on the legrest of his deep dive chair. Here we go. Big brother mentality Jackie is present, full force. Teo placed the last piece back into his gun with a satisfying click!. A faint, almost imperceptible green hum emanated from Bon Bon's barrel, a subtle glow visible only in the dim light of the room, the hum sounded like a charging battery, alive with contained power.
"Angel called me about a gig she needed help with," Teo said, trying to sound nonchalant as he placed Bon Bon into his waist holster. "Good eddies. Needed the scratch." He turned around and looked at Jackie, who merely folded his arms, his face a silent tableau of 'uh huh, sure.'
"And you didn't return until early morning?" Jackie said, his voice flat, a challenge. "For a 'gig'?"
"Come on, Jackie, it's just biz," Teo said, crossing his arms, his posture defensive. Jackie saw that Teo wouldn't budge. Jackie sighed, a long, drawn out sound that vibrated with years of experience and brotherly concern. "Alright, chico. But don't be sticking your chulupa into anymore crazy, understand? Especially if it involves some toxic bitch trying to control you. I hated that one. You came back looking like a shell. Always hated her."
Teo stiffened, a little shocked by the blunt, unexpected comment. He hadn't told Jackie much about that ex, about the mind games, the suffocating control. "Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, quickly changing the subject without even acknowledging it. "Any plans for today, Jack?"
"Yeah, actually," Jackie said, rising, stretching his massive frame. "Was thinking of hitting the gym, then maybe meeting up with Misty. Why? Got something brewing?"
"Yeah, actually," Teo said, a genuine excitement lighting up his eyes as he turned to his desk, picking up his little tablet and opening up his browser. "Gonna buy a bike. Actually, I need your thoughts on the matter." A crisp black Kusanagi CT-3X with vibrant green race lines filled the screen, sleek and predatory, a dream forged in chrome and speed. He spun the tablet to show Jackie.
Jackie whistled, low and impressed. "Yeah, vato. Oh, what a beaut! Kusanagi CT-3X, a real beast. Got the custom gyros, right? Sub zero liquid cooling, full spec tuning for speed and handling. And that integrated AI nav system is preem. You have enough scratch for this?" Jackie said, handing the tablet back to Teo, his eyes lingering on the bike's specs.
Teo made a nervous laugh, the sound thin. "Welllll, I was hoping..."
Jackie knew exactly where he was going. He pinched the bridge of his nose, a familiar family trait, a mirror of Teo's own recent gesture. "How much you need, chico?"
Teo quickly checked his balance in his OS, $62,500 eddies. The bike was $66,000 eddies. "Five thousand, you know I can pay you back," Teo said, his voice a little rushed. He needed a vehicle, badly. Especially after that weird experience in the Caliburn, that fleeting sense of someone else enjoying the ride, and then that gonk freak trying to jack his ware that one time on the metro. A bike was freedom, a personal bubble, a line drawn in the sand.
Jackie sighed, a sound of resigned affection. "Hah. Okay, okay. You got a hand on this thing yet?"
Teo nodded. "Big Joe's Garage in Rancho Coronado already has it set for me. I just need to send the payment, and she's all mine." Teo watched as Jackie eyes glowed, and the eddies transferred. "Can you give me a ride to the garage, then?"
Jackie grinned, clapping Teo on the shoulder. "Choom, what are big brothers for? You hungry? Breakfast?" Jackie questioned, his stomach rumbling audibly.
Teo shook his head and started to walk towards the steel staircase, "Nah, not really. I just sent a message to Old Joe, said we'd be there within the hour."
Jackie, with a silent understanding, followed behind Teo up the stairs. Teo reaching the top, pressed his fingers on the lockscreen pad and typed in a rapid code. The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the Coyote's early morning vibes. The bar, still mostly empty, was already beginning to hum with the low chatter of early risers and the aroma of fresh synth coffee.
Mama Welles, in her apron, was behind the bar, wiping down the counter, her dark hair pulled back from her face. She looked up as they emerged, her sharp eyes immediately finding Teo, then piercing through him, straight into his soul. 'No way she just read me like that,' Teo thought, a flush creeping up his neck.
Mama Welles, from across the goddamn restaurant, spoke, her voice carrying over the gentle clinking of cups. "Who's the girl, Teo?" A knowing smirk played on her lips.
Teo stiffened, his body going rigid. "Nothing is happening, Tia. I told you this last night!" he protested, walking up to the bar and going behind it, heading towards the bakery section. There was a glass display case filled with freshly baked muffins and savory pastries.
The thing about Night City was most of the food was synthetic, but wheat was one thing that was easy to get, a common crop in the hydroponic farms that fed the lower strata. It didn't cost much, which Mama Welles then used to bake some goods for the morning early birds, a real comfort for the soul. He grabbed a warm muffin, the scent of cinnamon and yeast briefly overwhelming his metallic taste.
"Teo, you have that stupid idiot look whenever you spend time with a girl. We noticed back then, and we notice it now," she said, leaning on the counter, her eyes twinkling. Jackie, with a small smirk on his face, poured himself a steaming cup of coffee.
"Nothing happened!" Teo said, his voice rising, a flush returning, crawling up his neck like a spider. "She needed my help for a gig! A fucking gig!" he snapped, turning around, glaring at the two little devils who were trying to push information out of him.
His aunt threw her head back and laughed, a rich, booming sound that made a few early patrons look up. "Hah! So it was a chica, you're too easy, mijo!" she said, silently giggling, shaking her head. Jackie was struggling to hold in his chuckle, his broad shoulders shaking, the fat cabrón looked like he was about to pop from suppressed mirth.
The 'creation's' voice in his head mocked him, 'I detect... Embarrassment. A fascinating human response to social scrutiny.' it said with more amusement than Teo thought possible for it. 'No shit, Fucker,' Teo thought back, a scowl coming onto his face.
Jackie, noticing his cousin's scowl, only started to laugh harder, a genuine, joyful roar. "Come on, hermano, we're just busting your cohonays! Chill out!" he said, wiping a tear from his eye as he came over to the bar.
Teo, fed up, walked past him and his aunt, flipping them both off with a quick, practiced motion. His aunt scowled and, with lightning speed, grabbed her flip flop from behind the counter and smacked him over the head. "¡Puto madre, no cusses!" she snapped, her eyes narrowing.
"Ay! You're cussing right now!" Teo yelled, rubbing his head, putting some distance between them. She threw the flip flop with insane precision, nailing him on the nose. "¡Ay! Jackie, let's go, vato!" he cried, turning and bolting out the door and into the hot morning sun. Jackie followed him, also receiving a well aimed shoe to the back of his head, seemingly just for the sheer joy of it, as she laughed.
They hopped on the bike and started driving.
They hit the streets of Santo Domingo, Teo perched on the back of Jackie's custom ARCH, the powerful bike pulling them through the city's veins. Their voices, clear in each other's comms, cut through the early morning traffic, a restless hum of aircars slicing through the smog tinged sky above, while ground vehicles jostled for position on the cracked asphalt below.
They passed the sprawling, labyrinthine El Dorado Market, already bustling with vendors hawking chrome, synth food, and dubious tech, their makeshift stalls glowing under portable lamps, the air thick with spices and synthetic aromas. Further on, the colossal, almost alien Night City Dam loomed, a monument to human ambition and corporate power, its massive generators a silent thrum against the city's roar, occasionally pierced by the distant wail of a Trauma Team siren.
"Remember that time I tried to teach you how to ride my old scrapper bike?" Jackie chuckled, breaking a comfortable silence as they navigated a chaotic junction near the Rancho Coronado Freight Depot. Heavy freight haulers, autonomous monsters of steel, rumbled past, shaking the very ground beneath them, their colossal wheels kicking up plumes of dust.
"Yeah, yeah, you almost broke my damn arm. Swore I was going to flatline on that pavement." Teo rolled his eyes, a genuine smile forming. His left hand, resting on his knee, gave an almost imperceptible twitch, a fleeting muscle spasm he ignored. The 'creation' inside him hummed a faint, almost sardonic note, 'Suboptimal equilibrium. A lack of core stability in the vessel's early motor functions. Amusing.'
"Nah, you just kept trying to hack the bike's gyros instead of feeling the road," Jackie ribbed, his laughter booming in Teo's ear through the comms. "Almost got you into that irrigation ditch near the Old Mill. Good times! Scared the hell outta Mama Welles and your mother when we got back all scraped up, remember?"
"Easy for you to say, Muscle Memory. My brain was wired for data, not asphalt." Teo leaned back, a genuine smile on his face. "But seriously, Jack. You taught me right. Always said," he started to mock Jackie's voice, a surprisingly good imitation, "'You never know when you gotta cut and run, Teo. Best to have your own ride and know how to handle it.'"
He remembered the tough, but necessary, lessons years ago, in a dusty, abandoned lot near the old Westbrook shipping containers. Jackie, patient, would pick him up after each spill, his booming laughter echoing as Teo scraped his knees and swore. The feeling of finally balancing, the whoosh of the air against his face, the thrill of actual, physical freedom, it was a powerful memory.
The 'creation' inside him was quiet, a low hum, seemingly content to observe the shared memory, perhaps processing the human concept of 'brotherhood' with it's creepy curiosity.
They passed through the grimy, perpetually shadowed Northside Industrial District, the air heavy with the tang of ozone and burnt chemicals. Factory smokestacks belched plumes of noxious gas into the bruised sky, creating a perpetual twilight.
A few blocks down, a group of Maelstrom gangers, all brutal chrome and glowing optics, glared at them from a darkened alley, their hands resting on their weapons, but Jackie's ARCH and their speed kept them from engaging. 'Local hostility detected. Engagement probability... low due to speed and perceived threat level. Optimal evasion.' the 'creation' noted.
Further into their drive, just past a gaudy Kabuki Market, they saw it, flashing blue and red lights painting a tenement wall. An NCPD investigation. Cops in their armored suits swarmed around a yellow crime scene tape, questioning a bewildered citizen whose synthetic arm hung at an odd angle.
A few meters beyond, a quick, brutal blur. a street mugging. A small time perp, hopped up on stims, ripping a data pad from a corpo drone's hands before vanishing into the maze of alleys. Teo's gaze, quickened by the 'creation's' influence, registered the theft, the drone's terrified face, the perp's route, all in a single, cold snapshot. 'Inefficient resource acquisition. High risk, low reward.' the 'creation' commented, almost dismissively.
Above them, the distinct, high pitched wail of a Trauma Team AV screamed through the air, a silver bullet slicing through the smog. Its engines roared, making the ground vehicles below vibrate. It was heading towards something bad, fast, a grim reminder of Night City's constant, casual violence.
They pulled into Big Joe's Garage, a sprawling, grease stained haven for custom rides, nestled amongst grimy auto shops and scrap heaps. The air hung thick with the pungent scent of burning oil, hot metal, and stale synth coffee.
Inside, the roar of grinding machinery and the rhythmic clang of hammers on steel created a symphony of industry. Big Joe himself, a hulking man with more tools strapped to his body than cyberware, emerged from beneath a lifted truck, wiping grease from his brow with a grease stained rag. His face, a roadmap of scars and old chrome, split into a wide grin.
"Jackie! Teo! My favorite choombattas!" Joe boomed, his voice rumbling like an armored truck. He lumbered forward, extending a massive, oil stained hand that looked like it could crush a synth skull. "She's ready for you, Teo. Preem condition, just like I promised." He gestured proudly towards a sleek, black Kusanagi CT-3X, gleaming under the fluorescent lights, its vibrant green racing lines like razor cuts on its polished chassis. Its engine hummed with a contained power that promised raw speed.
"Nice work, Joe," Jackie said, giving the bike an appreciative pat on its fuel tank.
"Got her off some gonk who thought he could outsmart me on a custom job," Joe winked, leaning in conspiratorially, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "He brought it in for a paint job, said he wanted it 'unique.' I chipped the ride, copied its full history, found out he jacked it from some mid tier Tyger Claw capo, got it cheap. Then I just resprayed it and rerouted the IFF. Now it's clean as fresh chrome. Preem for the street, choom. Fast as hell, too." Joe grinned, flashing a mouthful of stained, metal teeth, enjoying the tale of his own street level cunning.
Teo eyes glowed "Sounds perfect, Joe. Payment sent." A notification popped up on Joe's own wrist mounted terminal, confirming the transfer of eddies. Joe's grin widened, a genuine, greasy display of satisfaction.
"Pleasure doing biz with you, Teo! Ride safe, vato!" Joe waved as he sent him the document info, sent strait to his neural OS. Teo walked over to his new baby.
He straddled the Kusanagi, feeling the smooth, cool synth leather seat beneath him, the raw power of the engine thrumming beneath his thighs. He flipped the ignition, and the bike roared to life, a deep, throaty growl that vibrated through his entire body.
He remembered Jackie's patient instructions, the feeling of the road. This is it. He felt the subtle hum of the 'creation,' a low, satisfied pulse that resonated with the bike's engine, as if it, too, was eager for the open road. 'Propulsion unit engaged. Optimal performance. Freedom to traverse. It's efficient.' the 'creation' commented, its presence a cool, analytical observation.
With a final nod to Jackie, who climbed back into his custom ARCH, Teo twisted the throttle. The Kusanagi rocketed forward, a black and green blur tearing out of the garage. They cut through the sprawling chaos of Santo Domingo, the bike a sleek, efficient missile. The city's light pollution painted the sky in a perpetual bruised twilight, but here, on the street, the neon was alive, a blinding, pulsing symphony of advertisements and flashing gang tags. Vendors shouted, hawkers pushed their wares, and the bass from distant clubs vibrated through the ground.
They parked the bikes at a bustling outdoor market stand in Little China, the air thick with the aroma of fried noodles and sizzling street meat, a vibrant cacophony of vendors hawking everything from cheap cyberware to illicit braindances. The mid morning crowd was a vibrant river of humanity, chromed up solos, corporate drones in synth silk, weary laborers, and gangs in their colors, all jostling for space and deals.
"Alright, what's for lunch, choom?" Jackie asked, clapping Teo on the shoulder as they moved through the throng towards a noodle stall that promised "Authentic Szechuan sauce noodle deluxe on fire with a hint of salt."
Teo grinned, already feeling lighter, the thrill of the new ride and THE SZECHUAN SAUCE NOODLES. "SZECHUAN SAUCE NOODLES! Jack. My treat."
As they neared the noodle stand, a sudden, guttural scream tore through the market's cheerful din, shredding the fabric of normalcy. 'Of course. Can't have shit in night city.'
The crowd froze. Then, a blur of motion. A man, twitching violently, his skin stretched taut over poorly integrated cyberware, his eyes wide and bloodshot, lunged at a nearby vendor, his chrome arm snapping out with terrifying speed, crushing the vendor's skull like an eggshell, a sickening CRUNCH echoing through the suddenly silent market. People screamed, scattering in every direction, a panicked human tide.
"Cyberpsycho!" someone shrieked, the word a fresh wave of terror.
Teo's heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drum against his Reinforced Subdermal Weave. The 'creation' in his head gave a sharp, almost excited ping, the internal hum intensifying. 'Threat detected. High level instability. Engage or evade?' it offered, its voice flat, analytical, completely devoid of fear.
Teo watched, frozen for a split second, as the cyberpsycho, a hulking figure of twisted chrome and raw rage, turned, his focus, wild and murderous, settling on the nearest unchromed targets. On them.
"I won't let him take my noodles, not again..."
A/N: OKAY! so I split my long ass paragraphs and made them smaller so it would look better on mobile, I do this from now on, sorry about the shit before. GIVE REVIEWS ,only if you want to tehe. ugh...