Early 2076
A man tapped his fingers with his arms crossed as he checked the glass chamber where a black goo was. The thing looked like a mix of a plasma and a liquid, toxic or acid enough to melt the skin of anyone who touched it, as that was proven true before. First, the tests consisted in using the cloned animals that the higher-ups could provide, then it was tested in some Scavs, criminals that no one would really care, not even the common gonk of Night City would miss them, so NCPD was more than eager to land a help at their little project.
How wouldn't they? The Corporations bank their jobs, of course they'd help.
However the last few days of testing were… interesting. The [Project Klyntar v1.0] had a lot of setbacks, too many risks, and even so they game full greenlight to the project. Sometimes the man questioned how BioTechnica could think some of these stuff are fine to do given the unsurmountable risks it posed, but he is just a scientist, barely a Ripper Doctor. He studied biology and viruses, not how to replace missing limbs with chrome. Still, even with his lack of knowledge, he thought that maybe this was going too far.
The door slide aside as the chief researcher entered the room. She had a brown-redish hair, is 177cm tall, a fair shape, given her job, not enough to be mesmerizing, but nothing to throw away. Her lab coat covered the red undershirt that she is using, some black pants and high heels, even though there was no need to use something so obnoxious in a place like this. What was also unnecessary was that she still used glasses, even though they lived in an era where they could just buy optics and never have to use glasses anymore, she still refused to do it. Saying that her mandatory chrome was enough.
“Vomi.”, The man said with no tone in his voice.
“How's the subject?”, The woman asked as she brushed her hair with her fingers, completely ignoring presentations.
“It is stable.” He informed, but quickly changed the subject, his voice showing not concern or worry, but something similar, “Are you sure you want to proceed without methods? We are lucky they allowed the previous tests, and you are incredibly lucky that they allowed you to test it in yourself.”
Indeed it was a miracle. It was Bio-Engineering, something that BioTechnica was more than capable of, but never in humans, and especially in such depth and risk. Vomi tested things on herself that people would never really get close, even when necessary, her eyes being deep, probably from nights without sleep or the DNA she injected in herself to test the Klyntar project more thoroughly. Her eyes, once a shy blue now turned into cyan, an almost white shade, her skin more pale than anyone else's and her voice progressively becoming harsher as her vocal cords became more damaged.
Yet, she refused to chipp in, something that the people responsible for the project could care less about, as long as it was successful.
“They won't allow me to test in live subjects, so I will need to test it myself.”, She said as she took a syringe and applied in her chest.
She didn't show any reaction to the nanobots she injected, but it was obvious she jerked slightly at the pain.
“You are the best scientist in this building. Losing you is something they won't accept.”, The man demurred, his protest sounding more like a pout than genuine care, “Even if your research is stored, only you would have the patience to actually redo all the work.”
“Yes, no one is as psycho as I am in this project.”, Vomi snorted at the thought, completely unperturbed by the prospect of her death, “Besides, this is the most secure project this corporation has created. They will destroy every file of it. Can't leave traces to Arasaka, Kang Tao and other minor corpos.”
The man grimaced, but then nodded, “Then, if this is a failure, let me tell you that working with you has been the most gruesome and unpleasant thing that happened in my life.”
“I thought the same.”, She said with a tired smile.
“Alright, everything is settled to start the procedure.”, Another scientist said as he held a tablet with graphs.
Vomi changed to another set of clothes, putting a set of light blue pants and shirt, being left barefoot and her glasses removed for the time being. A gray undershirt appeared too, but the long sleeves were quickly rolled up so her forearms were visible. She sat near a chair with countless wires and syringes that were slowly applied at her arms, neck and back, as the chair slowly approached the previous glass chamber where the Bio Weapon resided. Her arm was placed in a sealed hole where it would later open so the test could begin, the room filled with nervousness, but Vomi was strangely calm.
Maybe it was the many dosages of vitamins and maybe Beta Blockers so she would just vegg in the chair, but giving the past interactions with her, no one was sure.
“Proceeding to record the test.”, Another person said, “File 001, Test of Project-K v1.0, starting now.”
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The cleanup crew was honestly grateful to not be here sooner.
The place was completely destroyed. Countless rooms, labs and floors were broken and reduced to a mishmash of complete carnage and destruction. Footage was barely recovered, the only thing being a log of the starting procedure and the personnel involved.
File 001, Test of Project-K v1.0, Continuing...
Early 2076, Night City
Subject: Dr. Vomi Reed
The room dimmed, leaving only the cold, clinical glow from the machinery as the test proceeded. The faint hum of devices buzzed in the background, a steady rhythm amidst the unnerving silence. Several researchers stood behind reinforced glass, their eyes fixated on the central chamber.
Vomi’s body tensed slightly as the bioweapon containment unit began its slow release. The black goo, suspended in its chamber, quivered in anticipation, seemingly alive with its own malevolence energy. A low hiss escaped the seals as the first batch of the substance was injected into the arm chamber where Vomi's limb rested.
12:15 AM
The bioweapon made contact with her skin.
Instantly, her body reacted. Vomi inhaled sharply, her muscles twitching involuntarily as the black goo began to interact with the nanobots in her bloodstream. The mixture of organic material and nano-engineering fused, spreading along her veins like black tendrils beneath the surface of her pale skin.
“Nanobots integration at 15%,” a voice crackled over the intercom. The man from before—his fingers now clenched around the tablet—watched anxiously as the data flowed in.
The black mass continued its invasive journey, sinking into her tissues, seemingly attaching itself to her very cellular structure. Vomi clenched her teeth but remained composed, her breathing steady despite the visible strain on her body.
12:17 AM
Something shifted.
Suddenly, her vitals spiked. Heart rate, body temperature, and neural activity all shot up, setting off alarms in the control room. The researchers exchanged worried glances. A low, guttural sound escaped her lips, and her eyes—those unnaturally pale cyan eyes—glowed faintly as if something inside her was waking.
“Integration at 40%,” the tablet-wielding scientist announced, his voice now more urgent.
But Vomi didn’t flinch. Her eyes closed, her body still, as the black goo enveloped her arm entirely, slipping under her skin like a living parasite. Her pale skin now pulsed with inky veins, the bioweapon seeping into her bloodstream, coiling around her bones and nerves like some foreign intelligence mapping out its new host.
12:20 AM
Vomi’s breathing became labored.
The nanobots inside her system were trying to combat the bioweapon, but it was clear the integration wasn’t as smooth as anticipated. Her hands gripped the armrest of the chair, knuckles white from the pressure. Beads of sweat rolled down her forehead.
“Integration at 70%,” the voice over the intercom echoed again.
A sudden tremor wracked her body, and her eyes shot open. Her once pale cyan irises were now almost pure white, glowing with an unnatural brightness. The veins in her neck bulged as she gasped for air.
The man monitoring her vitals shot a glance at the lead scientist, his face drained of color. “We’re losing her. Her vitals are collapsing.”
12:23 AM
Against all logic, Vomi raised her hand, gesturing for the procedure to continue.
“No.” Her voice was weak, but there was no mistaking the authority in her tone. “Let it… finish.”
They hesitated for a moment but ultimately complied. The black goo had now covered most of her arm and shoulder, disappearing beneath her clothes as it integrated with her body. Her skin shifted, darkening, almost blending with the bioweapon, as if the two were becoming one.
12:25 AM
Suddenly, the readings began to stabilize, only to skyrocket again.
There was a surge, a loss of control or whatever that could explain what happened, but the Doctor immediately transformed into a creature never seen before, not even by BioTechnica and their decades of experience with unsuccessful development. Even the Worm Farms didn't give such a monstrous thing to see. It was hard to describe. It took the shape of Dr. Vomi, but it was completely black, the same liquid form covering the entire body.
After that, it was a bloodbath.
The bioweapon, now fully bonded with Vomi, erupted into a frenzy. Her body twisted unnaturally as the black goo spread, engulfing her in a grotesque transformation. In mere seconds, her form was consumed, turning her into a monstrous figure a fusion of human and alien biomass. The dark, liquid-like substance dripped from her elongated limbs, its texture shifting between solid and amorphous as it pulsed with raw power. Tendrils extended from her back, writhing like living whips, as if the bioweapon itself was no longer confined to her will.
The once silent room exploded into chaos.
Alarms blared, and the researchers scrambled for cover behind reinforced barriers. They had no time to react. Vomi-or what remained of her-lashed out, her movements violent and swift. One of the tendrils pierced through the observation window, shattering it like brittle glass, and within seconds, the first casualty fell. A researcher, frozen in fear, was impaled through the chest, their body yanked toward the creature with a sickening crack. Blood sprayed across the sterile lab as more tendrils tore through the air, decimating equipment and personnel alike.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
The few survivors screamed into their comms for emergency protocols to be initiated, but it was too late. The containment procedures that had been prepared were not designed for something like this. Whatever Vomi had become was beyond their calculations, beyond the very scope of BioTechnica's experiments.
The black mass continued to evolve, enveloping Vomi's frame entirely until she was unrecognizable-a hulking figure, dripping with viscous goo. Her once-human face was now a grotesque mask, eyes glowing a piercing white against the jet-black substance covering her body. The creature let out a horrifying, inhuman screech that reverberated through the lab, causing the glass to crack under the sheer intensity of the sound.
12:30 AM
The carnage spread.
Those who remained in the control room tried desperately to shut down the experiment, fumbling with controls and overrides, but the system was no longer responding. The containment unit had been breached, and whatever had bonded with Vomi was beyond their control.
One of the senior scientists, the man who had expressed concern earlier, slammed his fist against the control panel, his eyes wide with horror as he watched his colleagues fall one by one. His hands shook as he reached for a kill switch, hoping to neutralize the entire facility. But before he could act, the monstrous form that had once been Vomi turned its gaze toward the control room.
With terrifying speed, the creature leaped through the air, crashing through the reinforced barrier as if it were paper. The scientists screamed as the darkness enveloped them, their cries cut short by the wet, sickening sounds of flesh being torn apart. Blood painted the walls in splashes of red as the beast continued its rampage, feeding on the terror it wrought.
12:45 AM
The building's automated systems engaged emergency lockdown procedures, sealing off entire sections of the lab. Security drones were dispatched, but they too were no match for the creature's speed and power. Their bullets were absorbed by the black mass, and the few shots that hit their mark did little to slow the monster down.
As the last security drone was dismantled, and the lab fell into eerie silence, the creature stood in the wreckage, surveying its work. What was once Vomi Reed was now a weapon. An unstoppable force of destruction with no master and no limits.
They closed up the log.
“What the fuck was that?”, One of them asked.
“No clue. And given the resume of the corpos, we shouldn't even want to know.”
“True.”
The footage from the lab would later be deleted by BioTechnica's cleanup team, though granted, very little could be salvaged. What remained of the scientists was barely identifiable, and the facility was written off as a catastrophic failure. All traces of Project Klyntar v1.0 were erased, its existence buried deep within BioTechnica's vaults, never to be spoken of again.
After all, Corporations would never show weakness or admit defeat.
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I woke up suddenly. I was surrounded by wrecked cars and fire, although I didn't remember being in a car crash recently. Besides, those are really weird looking cars… did new cars have been released without me knowing? I am not a car person, so that is probably why. Still, why am I here and not in my home?
Pushing myself off the ground, I noticed the air was thick with smoke, the stench of burning metal and rubber filling my lungs. I coughed, instinctively covering my mouth with my arm. My head pounded, a dull ache radiating behind my eyes, as if I had been unconscious for hours. I tried to piece together what had happened, but nothing came to mind. My memory was a foggy mess. I didn’t remember getting here, didn’t remember the explosion, the wreckage, any of it.
Glancing around, I noticed the landscape was off—like a scene from a dystopian nightmare. Buildings in the distance were really tall, their towering structures filled with advertisements, while neon signs flickered erratically through the haze. The streets were eerily empty, save for the wreckage around me, and the sky was tinged with an unnatural black void, as if the moon and the stars never existed.
I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. What the hell happened here? More importantly, where the hell am I?
Stumbling forward, I brushed soot off my clothes. My skin felt odd—colder than it should be. Looking down at my arms, I froze.
My hands… they weren’t my hands.
Where my skin should have been, there was something else. Something black, shiny, like liquid, yet solid. I blinked, my breath hitching in my throat as I slowly flexed my fingers. The substance moved with me, like it was a part of me—like it was me. The surface of my arms seemed to ripple slightly, as though the black mass was alive, pulsing under the skin.
And as I felt more and more discomfortable and anxious… my skin reappeared.
Though it wasn't my skin.
It wasn't even my body! It wasn't even the correct gender!
I stumbled further into the ruins, my breath quickening as I fought the rising fear. I had to get control, and had to understand what I had become. But the more I looked at my own body, the more alien it felt.
The black mass stirred. I felt it move—not just around me, but within me. It responded to my thoughts, my emotions, my fear. It was as if whatever this is… it was alive, connected to my very being, and somehow entirely under my control.
Suddenly, a voice echoed in my mind. Cold. Calculating.
"Host integrity at 95%. Weapon integration complete."
I froze. What? I didn’t speak, but it answered.
"You are the host. We are a weapon. Complete integration achieved. Mission parameters… pending."
“What the fuck?”
I staggered back, trying to comprehend what I had just heard. Weapon? Host? The voice in my head was emotionless, clinical, but the implications sent a chill down my spine. I looked at my hands again—my hands—and watched as the black mass pulsed beneath the surface, just waiting to emerge again.
"What the hell are you?" I whispered, though I wasn’t sure if I was asking myself or whatever was inside me.
"We are symbiotic," the voice responded smoothly, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. "We provide enhanced capabilities. Survival. Power."
I felt my stomach churn. Symbiotic? Enhanced? The engine I call brain slowly worked as I managed to picture the situation I was in. And honestly, I held my geek side as it was too confusing to jump into conclusions.
"What did you do to me?" I demanded, my voice being surprisingly calm. And yes, it wasn't my own voice but that hardly matters now.
"Improved us. Integrated us. Without me, you would have perished. Together, we thrive.", The voice responded with the same cold and calculated tone, although this time with a hint of pride.
I wasn’t me anymore, that was obvious. But I also wasn't human. Not because I have an eerie weird voice in my head but because this body— my body felt different. Way more different than it had any right to be.
Suddenly, I heard something—a low hum, growing louder. I turned toward the source of the noise, my heart racing. Through the smoky haze, a drone appeared, hovering above the wreckage. It looked sleek, corporate, its camera lens focusing directly on me.
“Engaging target,” the drone’s mechanical voice droned.
“What?”
Before I could react, it fired.
Instinctively, the black mass surged out of me, a tendril shooting up and slamming into the drone before I even realized what had happened. The drone sparked and crashed to the ground, destroyed in an instant. I stared at the wreckage, I didn't feel… endangered? At risk? Even so I was relieved that the thing wasn't here anymore, not because it posed anything to me, but more because a nuisance was dealt with. I hadn’t meant to do that. I hadn’t wanted to do that. But the symbiote reacted before I could.
"We protect the host due to inactivity," the voice said, almost soothing now. "Threat eliminated."
That comment made me stop glancing at the drone, but focus on something else that was ripped from it. I stepped closer, awkwardly waking as the body proportions weren't the same, but I managed. There was a very familiar logo on the chassis of the drone, and I blinked when I saw it. Then I rubbed my eyes again to look at it.
Militech.
Huh…
“Militech?!”
What the hell is a Militech drone doing here? More importantly, where is here? I glanced at the skyscrapers again in the distance, making up my mind of some of the advertisements that went up the sky. NiCola, Mr. Studd, XXL Burritos, Samurai…
Yeah, I was in Night City, Cyberpunk 2077.
“You seem distressed.”, The symbiote said in his usual.
My brain was doing somersaults at this point. I mean, Night City? Night City?! That was supposed to be a fictional place—a game, a story, not… real. And here I was, standing in the middle of it, with a Militech drone smoldering at my feet and an alien symbiote in my body. Yeah, this was a lot to take in.
“You seem distressed,” the symbiote repeated, its tone almost curious and annoyed at repeating his question.
“No shit!” I snapped back, feeling my heart race. "I’m in Night City! A place that shouldn’t exist, and I’ve got you in my head! None of this makes sense!"
"We exist here," the symbiote said, unbothered. "You exist here. Therefore, it is reality."
Wow, okay, thanks for the deep philosophical insight, goo monster. Real helpful.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to focus. If I was in Night City, then I needed to figure out how the hell I got here—and more importantly, how the hell I was going to survive. This place was a death trap even without a giant black alien blob hitching a ride in my body.
"Okay, okay, let’s just... take it one step at a time," I muttered to myself. "I’m in Night City. Somehow. Got a symbiote. Cool, fine. So, uh, what do I do now?"
"Survive," the symbiote said simply, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Yeah, no kidding. But, like, how? I’m not exactly equipped to deal with cyber ninjas and psychotic netrunners."
"We are more equipped than you think," the symbiote replied, and I could almost feel it smirk.
Before I could question that, I heard more noises in the distance—this time, footsteps. And not just one set. Multiple. I ducked behind a wrecked car, peeking out to see a group of scavs combing through the wreckage. They looked rough—cyberware sticking out of their skin, mismatched gear, the kind of people who would shoot first and loot your corpse later.
Great. Just what I needed.
"Hide or fight?" the symbiote asked, sounding almost… eager.
"Neither.” I whispered. "We avoid them. I don’t need to get into a firefight right now.”
But as I tried to move quietly, my clumsy new body betrayed me. I tripped over a piece of debris, landing hard and making enough noise to catch the scavs' attention. They turned toward me, guns already drawn.
"Fuck.”
“Shoot the bitch!”
"Fight it is," the symbiote declared, and before I could protest, my body moved, way more sharply and efficiently than I could ever do.
I felt my muscles tighten, my senses sharpen, and suddenly, I wasn’t scared anymore. I was ready. Ready to fight, ready to win.
The scavs didn’t stand a chance.
They fired at me, but the bullets bounced off my body. I moved faster than I ever thought possible, dodging between them, disarming one with a swift strike, sending another flying with a tendril that shot out of my arm.
In seconds, it was over. The scavs were either dead or running for their lives.
I stood there, breathing evenly despite the action. I hadn’t meant to do that, but... damn, it felt good. Powerful.
"See?" the symbiote said. "We are equipped to survive."
I looked down at my hands—my alien, not-so-human hands—and sighed. "Yeah, I guess we are."
But as the adrenaline faded, reality hit me again. This wasn’t a game. This was real, and I had no idea how to get out of it. But one thing was clear: in a place like Night City, with a symbiote like this?
Surviving wasn’t just an option. It was the only option.
“Why don't I feel anything?”, I asked as I looked at the corpses, “You shouldn't be able to suppress emotions, right?”
“This was already done by the host before integration.”, He said matter-of-factly, “Or it is the natural reaction you have. People react differently with death.”
“I guess…”, I said, not really reassured.
I knew stories of people that didn't really have a reaction after killing, that feeling of catharsis never really came and they felt horrible for it. But I didn't feel… anything. So to avoid these thoughts I looked for a mirror or anything that could reflect what I looked like. It didn't take long as I found a glass that reflected just enough for me to evaluate myself.
And I almost snorted at the fact.
My eyes were red, like I didn't have any melamine in them, my skin had taken on a subtle grayish hue. My hair was long, totally black, giving a striking contrast to my skin funnily enough, and aside from my lab coat and the symbol in it of BioTechnica, all of my clothes were black. And my nails seemed to follow the trend, as they are black as well.
Basically I was Vomi, or more known as Android 21 from Dragon Ball.
Then I finally snorted.
I couldn’t help but let out a laugh—half disbelief, half irony. Of all the forms I could’ve taken in this twisted reality, I somehow ended up looking like a character straight out of Dragon Ball. Android 21, of all people. The BioTechnica logo on my lab coat was just the cherry on top. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.
The symbiote seemed confused. "Why are we laughing?"
I shook my head, still chuckling. "It's just… it's too ridiculous, y'know? I’m in Night City, somehow fused with an alien symbiote, and I look like a Dragon Ball character. I mean, come on, this is some next-level weird shit."
The symbiote remained silent for a moment before replying, “This form seems optimal for your environment. Adaptable, durable, and—”
“—Totally anime,” I interrupted, shaking my head again, but the grin didn’t leave my face. I couldn't take the situation seriously, not with everything piled on like this. "I guess if I'm gonna survive in Night City, I might as well look badass doing it."
"We prioritize survival. Aesthetics are secondary," the symbiote stated plainly, as if the concept of appearance was completely foreign to it.
I stared at my reflection for a few more seconds, feeling that familiar detachment wash over me again. It was like I was observing someone else—someone who wasn’t me but also was. The strange thing was… I didn’t hate it. I wasn’t repulsed or scared. Maybe that was the symbiote’s influence, or maybe I was just too fried to care at this point.
"Alright, symbiote," I muttered, turning away from the broken glass. "What do we do now?"
"Continue to avoid hostile threats. Seek resources to sustain the host," it responded immediately, always focused on the practical.
I sighed. "You know, you could at least try to sound a little less like a walking instruction manual."
"I am not walking."
I blinked, then laughed again. "Okay, smartass."
As I started walking through the wreckage, I couldn’t shake the surreal nature of it all. Night City stretched out before me, its neon glow flickering through the smog, and the distant hum of drones and tech filled the air. It was a world of danger, where people like me—or like I used to be—didn’t last long. But now? With the symbiote coursing through me, with this new body, I had a chance. A weird, anime-inspired chance, but a chance nonetheless.
I took a deep breath. "Alright, let’s find out what this city has in store for us. But first… food."
"Agreed," the symbiote responded.
And with that, I walked deeper into the heart of Night City, ready to face whatever craziness it threw at me next. Because, honestly? After everything that had happened, nothing could surprise me anymore.
Or so I thought.