Victor Von Doom "The Doctor"

Date: 02/07/2076

Location: Night City, Early Morning

As I stirred from my slumber, the low hum of machinery greeted me in my fortified lair.

The faint blue light emitted from the array of screens cast eerie shadows across the room, creating a digital aurora in this subterranean sanctuary.

Slowly, I rose from my spartan cot, the cool concrete floor sending a shiver through my body.

This hidden command centre, nestled beneath a crumbling edifice in Night City's forgotten district, was a stark contrast to the opulent lifestyle I had once lived.

But true power often resided in unexpected places, and from here, I orchestrated moves that would reshape the very fabric of this neon-drenched metropolis.

With every click of a button and flicker of a screen, I could feel the city bend to my will, like a puppet on strings. This was my domain now, and with it came an unparalleled sense of control and authority.

I approached the central console, my fingers dancing across holographic interfaces with practised precision.

Screens flickered to life, each one a window into a different facet of Night City's pulsing underbelly. It was time to set the day's plans in motion.

"Trinity," I called out, activating the secure comm link to one of my trusted lieutenants.

Known to others as "The Silence," Trinity was a netrunner of unparalleled skill.

Her loyalty to me was absolute, forged in the crucible of shared adversity. The crushed throat that robbed her of speech was a constant reminder of the dangers we faced, but it had only sharpened her resolve.

She was only second to Vulcan, the man having joined me in my early years after leaving the Aldecaldos, his loyalty not born of necessity but of faith.

A text message flashed on my screen almost instantly: "Online and ready, Lord Doom. What are your orders?"

I allowed myself a small smile. In a world of constant betrayal and shifting allegiances, Trinity's unwavering dedication was a rare commodity.

"I require information on the Blackwall's current security status," I typed back. "Any unusual activity or vulnerabilities must be reported immediately."

There was a pause as Trinity delved deep into the NET. I could almost visualize her consciousness flowing through digital rivers, navigating the treacherous currents of data with a grace that few could match. After a few moments, her response appeared:

"Troubling news, my lord. The Blackwall is showing signs of instability. Multiple breaches detected, some lasting microseconds, others... longer."

My brow furrowed. This confirmed my suspicions about the increasing boldness of rogue A.I.s.

The Blackwall, that last line of defence between the sanitized NET and the chaotic Old NET, was supposed to be impenetrable. Its weakness could spell disaster for Night City – or opportunity, for those bold enough to seize it.

"Elaborate on the nature of these breaches," I commanded. "How is the Blackwall being compromised?"

Trinity's reply was swift and detailed: "Multiple vectors of attack detected, Lord Doom. The primary source appears to be deliberate sabotage. Detecting patterns consistent with the Voodoo Boys' methods – complex, multi-layered assaults that probe for weaknesses."

The Voodoo Boys. A notorious gang of fifth that masqueraded as elite netrunners, reigning from their stronghold in Pacifica and fixated on breaking through the Blackwall. They dared to launch futile attacks on my impenetrable systems, only to be met with swift and brutal retaliation. But now, it seems their relentless efforts are starting to yield dangerous consequences.

Trinity continued: "But there's more, my lord. I'm picking up strange interference emanating from an unexpected source – the office of Jefferson Peralez."

Peralez. The name sent a jolt of recognition through me. The idealistic mayoral candidate, supposedly opposed to corporate control, championed himself as a voice for the common people of Night City.

Could the man be a puppet involved in this digital conspiracy? Or perhaps an A.I sympathiser like the mongrels inside Pacifica.

"Interesting," I replied, my mind already formulating potential scenarios. "Maintain close surveillance on both the Blackwall and Peralez. Any anomalies, no matter how minor, are to be reported to me immediately."

"Understood, my lord," came Trinity's response. "I'll dedicate additional processing power to these tasks. Is there anything else you require?"

I considered for a moment. "Yes. Prepare a comprehensive dossier on Peralez. Political history, financial records, known associates – leave no stone unturned."

"It will be done," Trinity assured me. Her efficiency was, as always, impeccable.

Disconnecting from the comm, I moved to my robotics control station.

The citizens of Night City thought they occasionally glimpsed Doctor Doom walking among them, but the truth was far more complex.

Why risk my true form when a perfect robotic duplicate could serve?

I activated the neural link, the familiar sensation of my consciousness expanding and washing over me.

In an instant, I projected myself into my robotic avatar, currently situated in a nondescript diner across town. Through its advanced optical sensors, I observed the bustling breakfast crowd. This was achieved through mana it's versatility endless.

My auditory systems picked up snippets of conversation, the clatter of cutlery, and the hiss of the ancient coffee machine behind the counter. But these mundane details were merely background noise. My true focus lay elsewhere.

Using the diner's strategic location, I tapped into nearby surveillance networks, gaining access to feeds from Peralez's building. What I discovered was... troubling.

The signal disrupting the Blackwall wasn't originating from Peralez's office as we'd initially thought.

It was coming from the very walls of the building – a network of hidden devices, subtly pulsing with an alien rhythm. And at the centre of it all sat Jefferson Peralez, his eyes slightly unfocused, movements just a fraction too smooth to be natural.

I focused my gaze, scrutinizing his face with intense observation. Peralez possessed a certain air of decency, with prominent features that could easily win over the trust of voters. While not as strikingly handsome or charismatic as myself, he certainly didn't elicit any feelings of nausea at the mere sight of him.

With my keen observation, I noticed the subtle shifts in his demeanour, small but telling signals of someone who was not entirely in control of their own mind. His face twitched with micro-expressions – flashes of confusion, fear, and determination that were quickly smoothed away.

As I delved deeper into the situation, it became clear that this was a game far more intricate than I had initially imagined. The rogue A.I. wasn't simply attempting to forcefully break through the Blackwall – it was playing a masterful long game, expertly manipulating key figures in Night City to pave the way for its ultimate emergence. Its tactics were cunning and calculated, and its reach extended far beyond what I could have ever anticipated.

As I processed this information, a plan began to form in my mind. I needed a way to enter the NET directly, to confront this digital threat on its own turf. But unlike the chrome-addled masses of Night City, I refused to taint my organic form with cybernetics.

No, I would forge a different path. My mastery of the arcane, my ability to weave mana into powerful artifacts – would be my weapons in the digital realm. I began to conceptualize a device that would allow me to project my consciousness into the NET, bridging the gap between magic and technology.

While the current device allowed easy projection into the android, the sup-space was quite small in comparison to the net which spanned the entire earth. Attempting to inject my mind alongside the millions of others would be a perversion of my consciousness a disgusting feet.

Now thinking back to Peralez it appeared that the man was a pawn, but potentially a useful one. I debated the merits of intervention.

On one hand, allowing the A.I.'s plan to progress could provide valuable intelligence. On the other, Peralez's position as a mayoral candidate made him a powerful piece on the board – one that I was loath to cede to my digital adversaries.

In the end, I decided on a subtle approach. Using my robot's built-in communications array, I composed a message:

"The walls have ears, and your thoughts are not your own. Take your family and flee, if you still can. Time is short, and your enemies are legion."

I sent it anonymously, knowing it would plant a seed of doubt in Peralez's mind. Whether he had the strength to break free of his programming remained to be seen.

To my surprise, a response came almost immediately: "Who is this? How did you get this number? I... I've been having doubts, strange dreams. Something's not right, but I can't... I can't seem to focus on it. Please, if you know something, I need help."

The desperation in Peralez's message was palpable, even through text. I considered my response carefully. Engaging directly with Peralez could be risky, but it also presented opportunities.

"I am someone who sees the strings that others would keep hidden," I replied. "Your mind is not your own, Jefferson Peralez. The walls of your home, the very air you breathe – all have been weaponized against you. But knowledge is power, and now you know. The question is: what will you do with this information?"

There was a long pause before Peralez's next message arrived: "I don't understand all of this, but... I trust my instincts, and they're screaming that you're right. Can we meet? I need to know more."

I smiled to myself. Peralez was proving to be more resilient than I had anticipated. Perhaps there was hope for him yet.

"A face-to-face meeting is too dangerous at this juncture," I responded. "Your every move is watched, your every word recorded. For now, we must communicate like this. Prepare yourself, Jefferson Peralez. Trust no one, question everything. The fate of Night City may well rest on your actions in the coming days."

"I understand," came Peralez's reply. "But please, don't leave me in the dark. I need to know what I'm up against, how to protect my family."

His concern for his family was admirable, if ultimately misguided. In Night City, such attachments were often more liability than strength. But perhaps I could use this to my advantage.

"Your wife and child are likely under the same influence as you," I told him. "Observe them closely, but subtly. Look for inconsistencies in their behaviour and gaps in their memory. And whatever you do, do not confront them directly about your suspicions. The programming runs deep, and forcing a confrontation could have... unfortunate consequences."

"God," Peralez responded, the single word conveying a world of horror and realization. "What do I do?"

"For now, you play along," I instructed. "Maintain your routines, give no indication that anything has changed. I will contact you again when it's safe to act. Remember, Jefferson Peralez – knowledge is your shield, and patience is your sword. Use them wisely."

"I will," Peralez promised. "And... thank you. Whoever you are."

I severed the connection, my mind already racing with new possibilities. Peralez could prove to be a valuable asset, a hidden dagger to be deployed at the crucial moment. But first, he would need to be carefully managed, his growing awareness nurtured and directed.

As I prepared to return my consciousness to my true body, I allowed myself a moment of grim satisfaction. The pieces were falling into place, the grand game of Night City entering a new phase.

Let the rogue A.I.s think they were on the verge of victory. Let NetWatch scramble in their ignorance. Let the corporations and gangs fight over scraps. I, Victor von Doom, would rise above them all.

The age of chaos was coming to Night City. And in chaos, I would forge a new order – with myself at its helm.

The fools who populated this neon-drenched cesspit could barely manage their own lives, let alone grasp the cosmic forces at play. But I saw the patterns, the grand design hidden beneath the surface.

Night City thought it had seen everything, and had weathered every storm. But I had never faced anything like me. Victor von Doom, master of science and sorcery, rightful ruler of all.

The game was afoot, and I intended to win. Not just for power's sake, but because I alone had the vision and will to shape this world as it should be. A perfect order, with myself as its architect and guardian.

Let the pawns make their moves. The king was about to take the board.

-

David Martinez

Date: 02/07/2076

Location: Night City, Early Morning

The Afterlife glowed in a pulsating neon haze, alive with frenzied energy that contrasted sharply with the numbness in my chest.

Dorio's departure still hung heavy on my mind, her transformation after pregnancy and the memory of Maine's death haunting me.

But I knew it was for the best - a fresh start in Texas was what she needed.

As I sat among my remaining crew, our wallets were heavy with the Doctors generous pay-out of §50,000 each, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease.

Maine's share had been transferred to his grieving lover. With her gone the doc gave an ultimatum: disband or stay together.

But for me, the latter was not an option due to my forbidden relationship with the doctor.

While hesitant Sasha knew better than to risk trying elsewhere, she reasoned that any other gig would equal the same risk, why would she settle for less?

Rebecca easily dismissed stating that she'd rather get flatlined than try elsewhere, the new weaponry and high pay-out an easy score in Night city.

I sipped at my drink, the synthetic ice clinking against the glass like an ominous warning.

Sasha, her cybernetic eyes scanning the crowd for potential threats with ease born from years of experience, and Rebecca, her small frame betraying the deadly firepower she carried, were all that remained by my side.

And as we sat there, surrounded by the chaos of the Afterlife, I couldn't shake off the feeling that our future together was uncertain and riddled with danger.

"So, what's the plan now, boss?" Rebecca asked, her voice cutting through the ambient noise of the bar. "We just gonna sit here and become part of the furniture, or are we gonna delta and find some action?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "We rebuild. We take on bigger gigs, make a name for ourselves. Maine would've wanted us to keep pushing forward."

Sasha nodded, her expression serious. "We're with you, David. But let's get real for a sec. We're gonna need more firepower if we want to tackle the big leagues. Can't just be the three of us against all of Night City's heavies."

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"Yeah," Rebecca chimed in, twirling a knife between her fingers.

"Not that I don't love a good scrap, but even I've got limits. We need more bodies, preferably with lots of chrome and itchy trigger fingers."

As if on cue, the bar's entrance slid open, revealing a familiar face. Vincent "V" Aledcaldo, the skilled solo known for running gigs for Padre and Lucy, stepped into the Afterlife. Our eyes met, and I saw an opportunity.

"Hold that thought," I told my crew, standing up. "I might have a solution. Watch and learn, chooms."

I approached V, extending a hand. "V, my man! Good to see you. Heard you've been keeping busy with Padre and Lucy's gigs."

V clasped my hand, a wry smile on his face. "David, what's good? Yeah, been running some interesting jobs lately. Lucy's got her fingers in some fascinating pies, let me tell you."

"I bet," I said, curious but knowing better than to pry. "Listen, I know you're your own man, but how about joining forces on a big job? We've got something brewing that could use your skills."

V's expression turned thoughtful, but I could see the hesitation in his eyes. "Appreciate the offer, David. Really do. But I've got a good thing going with Padre and Lucy. Plus, you know how it is – solo life suits me."

I nodded, understanding but disappointed. "I get it, I do. But hey, if you ever want in on a high-stakes gig, door's always open. We could use an ace solo like you."

"I'll keep that in mind," V replied, his tone warming slightly. "And hey, if you need an extra gun for a job, give me a call. Might not want to join up full-time, but I wouldn't mind lending a hand now and then. Could be fun to run with your crew on occasion."

As V moved to the bar, I returned to my crew, mind already racing with possibilities.

"No luck?" Sasha asked, eyebrow raised. "Looked like a frosty convo from here."

"Not a total wash," I replied, pulling out my phone. "V's not ready to commit, but he's open to freelance work. Still, we need more. Time to cast a wider net."

I quickly composed a job posting, my fingers flying over the holographic keyboard:

"Experienced edgerunners wanted. High-risk, high-reward gigs. Loyalty and skill a must. Chrome optional, balls of steel required. Interested? Contact David Martinez."

As I hit send, watching the post disappear into the vast network of Night City, Rebecca leaned over, reading the post.

"Nice one, choom. Real classy. 'Balls of steel required.' That'll attract the cream of the crop for sure," she said with a snicker.

"Hey, we want people who can handle the heat," I defended. "No use hiring some corpo rat who'll flatline at the first sign of trouble."

Just then, my phone buzzed. A message from Victor, our fixer and the closest thing I had to a father figure these days. I opened it, curious what the old man had for us this time.

"Greetings Martinez,

I write to you with a matter of great urgency that requires your unique skills and expertise once more. It is imperative that you undertake a mission to investigate sector G7 in Pacifica.

Your task is to carefully observe and examine any and all anomalies in the area, no matter how insignificant they may seem. There have been rumours circulating of rogue AI activity, a potential threat that must be either confirmed or eradicated.

I cannot stress enough the need for utmost discretion. Do not engage in any violent confrontations, as the locals are known to be formidable opponents. Your safety is paramount, and it is better for you to return alive than risk death.

In light of recent changes within your team, you will be equipped with necessary upgrades from my personal arsenal. You may retrieve them before embarking on your mission.

I expect concrete findings from your investigation and advise against engagement unless absolutely necessary. Your reward for success will be §22'000 each, with a potential bonus of up to §120'000 split among your team. Failure is not an option, Mr. Martinez. I will be monitoring your progress closely.

Do not disappoint me.

Sincerely,

Doctor Doom"

I looked up at my crew, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through me. "Looks like we've got our next gig, chooms. Pack your gear. We're headed to Pacifica."

Rebecca's eyes lit up with a manic gleam. "Pacifica? Oh hell yeah, now we're talking! Time to crash the Voodoo Boys' party!"

Sasha was more reserved, her cybernetic eyes narrowing. "Slow your roll, Becca. Pacifica's no joke. It's Voodoo Boys territory, and they don't play nice with outsiders. This isn't going to be a walk in the park, David."

I nodded, understanding her concern. "I know, Sasha. But Victor wouldn't send us if he didn't think we could handle it. This could be our chance to prove ourselves, to show Night City what we're really capable of."

"Plus," Rebecca added, grinning, "if we pull this off, our street cred will go through the roof. Might even get us a drink named after us here in the Afterlife."

I couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "One step at a time, Becca. First, we need to prep. Sasha, what do you know about Pacifica?"

Sasha's eyes glazed over slightly as she accessed her internal database. "Pacifica's a wasteland, basically. Used to be a fancy resort area, now it's a ghost town with teeth. Voodoo Boys run the show, but they're not the only players. Got scavs, gangs, and who knows what else lurking in the ruins."

"And the rogue AI angle?" I pressed.

She shrugged. "That's new to me. Voodoo Boys are big into netrunning, but actual AI? That's some next-level drek."

"Alright," I said, formulating a plan. "We'll need to go in quiet. No guns blazing unless we absolutely have to. Sasha, you're our eyes and ears. I want you scanning every frequency, looking for any unusual data traffic."

Sasha snickered, a slight smile on her face. "Woo, already ordering us around. I like the passion kid don't worry, I'll do my part kid."

"Becca," I continued, turning to our resident firecracker, "I know stealth isn't your strong suit-"

"Hey!" she protested. "I can be plenty stealthy. When I want to be."

I raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Well, I want you to be very stealthy on this one. You're our ace in the hole. If things go south, you unleash hell. But not before then, got it?"

Rebecca sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. I'll be a good little ghost. But if we do get to throw down, I call dibs on the first Voodoo Boy."

"Deal," I said, shaking my head with a smile. "As for me, I'll take point on the investigation. We'll start with some recon, get the lay of the land. Then we'll start poking around, see what shakes loose."

As we left the Afterlife, the weight of responsibility settled on my shoulders. Maine's absence was still keenly felt, but I was determined to lead this crew to greatness. For him, for Dorio, for all of us who'd lost something to this unforgiving city.

"Hey, David," Sasha said as we walked, her tone softening. "You good? I know with Dorio leaving and all..."

I appreciated her concern, but now wasn't the time for sentiment. "I'm fine. Dorio made her choice, and I respect it. She deserves a chance at a normal life, whatever that means in this world.

"Yeah, but shipping off to Texas?" Rebecca scoffed. "Talk about out of the frying pan, into the fire. Heard that place is a warzone."

"She'll be fine. Dorio's tough. Now, let's focus on the job at hand. We've got a long night ahead of us." I explained, the figures of Sasha and Rebecca moving to their respective apartments, my destination to the Doctors office.

Reaching their I was met with Jackie, who's smirk was bigger than his face. The type you wanted to smack and punch.

"Hey Hermano, did she enjoy my gift?" He winked.

"That was uncalled for asshole! You made the whole situation awkward, yah gonk!"

"Wow calm down, choom. You need to relax and get your dick up sometimes. Blue balls ain't good for your health." He jabbed his voice gaining the attention of his wife who appeared to take glances at him.

"Ah, huh," I affirmed, the sight of Misty shushing me a sign to shut up and let the man speak.

"Listen before I was with Misty I was the man of the hour! I had babes on every shoulder. I could get with anyone! You-, ah. Ahem…" He exasperated his rant slowly simmering as he noticed Misty's hand grab his shoulder.

"Is that right?" She asked.

Hastily walking past them, I hoped to avoid getting trapped in the growling and menacing aura of Misty as it slowly transformed into the fierce demeanour of a Latina, her sharp words like daggers. Finally arriving at the Doctor's office, he sat nonchalantly in his chair, his gaze fixed on the raised monitor which currently displayed a blank screen.

"You've arrived," he declared in a deep voice layered with a smoothness reminiscent of dark liquor.

"Yeah, just thought I'd come check on this upgrade you mentioned. With my crew's muscle disbanded, I figured it was time for me to contribute. Get some chrome. And I know you always preach about the value of being human, but I don't think that's enough anymore. I can't keep up with the dangerous goons coming after me. I need to be faster, stronger... better," I announced.

"Indeed, an upgrade is necessary. Your current team lacks the necessary force to continue. It's time for you to arm yourself," he agreed, gesturing towards a sleek box showcasing a Sandevistan - an item that shocked me.

With its ebony design pulsing with power and a neural processor that appeared to be military-grade and beyond, this was something you would only find in legends. The stuff that makes legends.

"Holy shit, this is the real deal. The kind of high-end shit only corporate folks get their hands on..." I commented, unable to tear my eyes away from the impressive item.

"With this installed, I could have saved them all. Maine... Mom..." My words trailed off as a wave of disappointment washed over me. If I had been stronger, I could have saved them all.

"But you would have died too. This Sandevistan is not your typical Militech shipment - it's something more. A prototype of my own creation. After running diagnostics on your body and conducting tests, I can say with certainty that your body is ready to handle the energy capacity it provides. If you had installed any other Sandevistan, you would have developed cyberpsychosis. Your mind may be resilient, boy, but not your soul," he revealed, sending a shiver down my spine.

"A prototype?" I asked in disbelief.

"Correct. Unlike most operating systems which only enhance your netrunning abilities, the Sandevistan is unique in its ability to increase an individual's processing speed to a level that slows down the world around them. This Sandevistan can not only enhance your processing speed, but also your agility and strength," he continued, bringing up a series of parameters before my eyes.

"With this, you will surpass even your already superhuman capabilities. You will now have an advantage over equally matched opponents, regardless of their affiliations," he stated confidently.

An explosive increase of two thousand per cent? A strength boost of three thousand six hundred and twenty-two per cent? These figures were mind-boggling.

"Wait, does this mean I'll be able to lift ten tons like you?" I asked incredulously, still amazed by the image of the Doctor effortlessly benching the weight from an industrial hydraulic press.

"Most likely not. I am the perfect specimen. You are not," he replied matter-of-factly.

"Damn, so will I get any more chrome?" I asked earnestly.

"No. Anymore will run you the risk of becoming tainted. I do not wish for my soldiers to make the mistake of failing under a simple emp. Regardless of meshing a military-grade emp is all it'll take for you to limp. I've seen Borgs simply die due to their systems failing. You do not wish to be one."

"So how long will this take?" I questioned eagerly.

"Only a few moments," he explained before my vision began to blur and my eyes started to water before finally collapsing under the weight of exhaustion.

Awaken I was brought to a strange room, the unusual paleness and sleek design foreign. It felt like some mythical monolithic church of some kind except numerous contraptions an wires were set from the ceiling and walls.

Getting up from the warmth of the bed I looked at my arms confused, they appeared to be mine yet they seemed bigger. Stronger, looking at what appeared to be a mirror I looked on shocked, the muscles on my body throbbing with vigour.

I now stood at six foot two and was just a head shorter than the Doctor who stood at six foot five. Looking at my spine, the sleek ebony Sanvistan stood now attached, my mind wondering on how to activate it.

"You're finally awake," Victor stated circling around me, a list of screens brought to his side.

Wait, did I get my optical processors installed?

I wasn't wearing my glasses and just a few moments ago I was fully organic. I had always wanted to get my optical cyberware installed but Mom always thought otherwise she always wanted me to get the best and tried to save up for my own…

"Yes, you're assumptions are correct, you've been implanted with a list of cybernetics." He revealed.

Wait did I say that out loud? Hold up, how did even know what I was saying? I didn't even say those things out loud.

Maybe he just knows me too well.

"So i'm full chipped in'." I voiced smiling.

"Your eyes, neural processors and operating systems should be operational. While I was hesitant to install such modifications I found that without the optical and neural processors, your brain wouldn't be capable of keeping up with your body." Victor explained.

"So I'm kinda like Morgan Blackhand now or Boa Boa. Man, this is so cool!" I exclaimed.

"You're now equal or perhaps even more powerful than some of Night City's legends." He complimented.

"Wait, you mean that?" I asked shocked.

"With your training and cyberware, even the likes of Adam Smasher may find you difficult to subdue. They'd have to ambush you or perhaps have an entire team of netrunners to slow you down." He explained, his hands seemingly hovering over my chest and back, "Hmm, good. Your body shows good compatibility, and a one per cent synchronisation rate—a perfect installation.

"Adam smasher... Heh, that's quite the compliment." I smiled, hearing him speak. That was the goal, to surpass his legacy and make myself a night city legend.

"No, this isn't an exaggeration. His capabilities and experience while far more diverse than yourself are still more than enough should you continue to temper yourself." He explained, his hands seemingly reaching into an invisible space before pulling out a suitcase.

"Wait you've met Adam Smasher?" I asked, the continuous revelations beginning to gnaw on me.

"Of course, unlike the rumours, he wasn't as powerful as they say he is." He explained.

Just who was the Doctor?

With experimental tech, extreme vigilance, a cold and indifferent attitude with an almost seemingly infinite pool of resources... Just who was he?

"Wait what do you mean? He's a bloody legend. He's got like a million cybernetics. They'd have to at least send a whole army to take him down." I spoke, the net showcasing his impressive power and

"Don't be naïve, child. I have enforcers who could take care of him with one swift stomp to the head." The doctor's words sent a chill down my spine.

"Enforcers?" I commented, What kind of fixer was I working for?

"Adam smashers capabilities are at best a captain for the Iron Legion. While he has access to numerous bodies such as the Dragoon and Dai Oni they are mere scraps compared to the weaponry that Texas holds, how else does a single state compete to the other forty-nine?" The Doctor explained.

"How do you know this, though… I thought you were a ranger." I asked confused, how would a ranger know and be able to compare the levels of strength inside the Texas army?

While I know the information could've been public to all those who lived inside their wall, the position he was speaking from wasn't that of an observer… It was one who had experience.

It didn't feel like I was talking to someone who just knew the State, it felt like I was talking to someone who ran it.

His finger hovered over the holographic keyboard before he swiped it away and turned to face me, his hands crossed behind his back.

"Fall," he commanded, and suddenly I found myself on my knees, cold sweat dripping down my back as an invisible force pressed down on me.

"Who are you?" I gasped, struggling to breathe under the pressure.

"It's time for you to realize just who I am," the doctor replied, his armour shifting and transforming until he stood before me as an infamous figure - the All-father.

As his towering figure loomed over me, his armour melted away to reveal an emerald and silver suit. The blank slate of his mask transformed into the unmistakable features of the All-father himself.

"You're...the All-father?" I stuttered, taking a step back. My cybernetic limbs felt like they were no longer under my control as the doctor now held all power over me.

All this time, I had been working alongside the most wanted man in the world.

What had I gotten myself into?

"You have a keen eye, child," he sarcastically remarked, settling into his seat as if nothing had changed. "It's time for you to fully submit to me. You will become my apprentice and together we will achieve greatness."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Was this whole persona just a guise for his true intentions?

"You never told me any of this," I protested, feeling betrayed and confused.

"There was never a need for lies. I have always supported you, given you power and soon, fame. But now it is time for my harvest. Submit to me and I will make you powerful beyond your wildest dreams."

"What about my friend...you could have saved him..." I couldn't hold back the anger and sorrow in my voice.

The All-father merely shrugged. "In the grand scheme of things, his life is insignificant. Just like how you wouldn't think twice about stepping on an ant or a bug, I didn't need to think twice about sacrificing them. Besides your friend was nothing but a criminal."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Maine had died for nothing, just a pawn in a larger game. How could he be so callous and cruel? Was this what the corpo's like?

"Maine didn't deserve to die like that... He was a good person." I spat, struggling to stand against the force still holding me down.

"Good person?" The Allfather scoffed. "He was a filthy mongrel, a buffoon that thought himself wiser. Do you even know why your so-called 'friend' was able to grab hold of the Von Doom exoskeleton? It's because he stole it. He never made it past Staff Sergeant and deserted his comrades. He's a traitor who caused the deaths of thousands of innocent children."

My mind reeled at this revelation, and I turned to look at the file in front of me. It was hard to believe that someone I had considered a kind man could also be a rebel fighter and thief. His mission was to transport Afghan children from the Middle East to South America, but the transport route was ambushed due to a leak - the informant Maine.

"He must have had a reason," I mumbled, trying to make sense of it all.

"A reason? There is no reason besides greed," The Allfather retorted, his voice tinged with anger. "He was greedy, and that greed is what keeps those filthy degenerates in office. Your mother did not die because of those gang members, David. She died because no one was there to save her. The weak are to be dominated and culled, that is the law of this world and Intend to change. I am willing to give an opportunity to all, so that what happened on that day never occurs again. That a mother and father can love their child without worries of war. That their children can study without gambling their life on the street. This world is broken, David and I intend to fix it."

His words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I couldn't deny the truth in them. This city was a tragedy, and every day, more innocent people like me were born into it. Perhaps, it was better to follow him. Yet the blindside still hurt regardless.

"You were fortunate to meet me, child," The Allfather said, his voice softening. "I am now giving you the opportunity to fight for something more than just money or fame. I am giving you the opportunity to fight for change. I have already proven myself; Texas now stands as a bastion of hope in America. I do not need to show more as proof. Should you require to see for yourself I shall transport you to my kingdom. See for yourself how mighty my claim is."

"Nevertheless, they served their purpose. And now it's time for you to serve yours."

"So you just wanted me to follow you like some puppet?" I voiced exasperated.

"Puppet? Don't be foolish child I have robots that could do a better job. But for you to follow me? You are correct," The All-father said, his voice deep and commanding.

"That is why I have chosen you as my apprentice. You shall be but one of my shepherds in helping me clean this city of its filth." He continued, his emerald eyes revealed for the first time, his gaze unyielding.

I mulled over his words, unsure of what to do. "So if I accept your proposal, what then?" I finally asked. "Will you send me to the front lines to fight for your cause? And what about my crew? What about them? Will they die a dog's death under your leadership?"

"No, you will not. They will not," The Allfather reassured me. "I have saved millions of lives; boy, do not question me. Should you accept, your people will ascend with you. You will be given my full support. And your role will remain the same; my truth changes nothing. You will remain under my guidance and continue to be paid. Although you must not reveal the truth even to your followers."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in before asking once more, "So I ask once more, child. Do you yield?"

I met his gaze and could feel the weight of his power pressing down on me. But at the same time, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the second chance he had given me – a chance for redemption.

"I yield," I voiced, a feeling of warmth washing over me as I accepted his offer.

Opening my eyes again, I found myself back in his office, the doctor nowhere to be found. Next to me was a suitcase with a small cube inside and a button on top. I hesitantly pressed the button, and the cube transformed into a ball before attaching itself to my arm, the feeling of nanites entering my skin both fascinating and terrifying.

As I felt my sensors come alive, I couldn't help but wonder what other abilities The All-Father had given me.

[Systems operational]

[Nanomachines avaliable]

[Parameters set]

[Increased durability, ability, and strength]

[Overdrive operational]

[Sandevistan operational]

[Running cyberdeck… Operational]

[Quick hacks operational]

[10+ daemons unlocked]

[Welcome to the net David and good luck - The Silence]

As a tsunami of numbing information and overwhelming sensations threatened to consume me, I collapsed back into my chair. The last message on my screen hung ominously, its sender known only as "The Silence". Fear clenched my stomach as I tried to make sense of everything that had happened so far.

The realization that the supposed doctor was actually the powerful All-father hit me like a punch to the gut. A surge of panic rose in my throat as I understood that life was about to become even more treacherous and unpredictable.