You know, if someone had told me that my day would involve a chilly dip in an ice bath, getting covered by a neon-lit guardian angel named Danny, and then hightailing it from a gang in a car that's probably seen more action than a MaxTac agent, I'd have laughed. But here I am, the star of this freak show. Night City, you never cease to amaze.

A few days ago, I was just your average corporate drone, drowning in data, living for the weekends. Now? I'm riding shotgun with Skaya, sporting an aching head full of mystery cyberware. Talk about a career change. In a city like this, you'd expect the main character to be raking in eddies, surrounded by luxury, but here I am, questioning my life choices and nursing a headache that feels like it's got its own heartbeat.

As Skaya and I scramble into her Makigai MaiMai, the chaos of the night pulsates around us like a bad techno beat. My thoughts drift to Danny. Man, what a guy. He just jumped into the fray, no questions asked. That's loyalty for you. And here I am, having left him back there. The guilt gnaws at me. I'm not the sentimental type, but Danny... he's more than just a sidekick in this messed-up story of mine. Skaya was visibly annoyed, muttering about lost eddies and the mess I've dragged her into. "Ryker, you owe me big time for this. Do you have any idea how much this little escapade is costing me?" she snaps as she revs up the engine, the car groaning like a wounded animal.

I sink into the seat, feeling every bruise and ache in my body. My head is a whirlpool of guilt and confusion, and the last thing I want is a chat. But Skaya's having none of it. "Spill it, Ryker. What's going on? Who are these guys after you?"

I let out a weary sigh, my mind racing. "Skaya, if I had a choice, I'd rather be rescuing the president of NUSA from Dog Town than feeling like this. I'm as lost as you are in this." I glance at her, hoping for some understanding.

She shoots me a skeptical look, maneuvering the car through the labyrinth of Kabuki back alleys. "That's not an answer, Ryker. I'm gonna charge you for that!"

As the world around me starts to blur and spin, I can feel consciousness slipping away like a lousy pickpocket in a crowded market. "You know, Skaya," I mumble, my words slurring, "if this is me cashing out, I gotta say, it's pretty anticlimactic."

Her voice fades into a distant echo, a reminder that I'm still tethered to this crazy world, if only just. "Ryker, stay with me..." she says, but it's like she's speaking from the other end of a long, dark tunnel.

Then, blackness. Nothingness. It's like I'm floating in a void, no pain, no bright lights, just... nothing. It's kind of peaceful, in a 'I might be dying' sort of way.

Time loses meaning. It could be seconds, minutes, or hours for all I know. Voices drift in and out, snippets of conversation that I can't quite piece together. "...never seen anything like it..." "...the cyberware is overloading his system..." Skaya's voice is there, tinged with worry and frustration. I want to tell her I'm fine, but my brain can't seem to make the connection to my mouth.

Eventually, a sliver of consciousness returns, like a reluctant performer on a stage. My eyelids feel like they're made of lead, but I manage to pry them open. The world is a blur of shapes and colors, a ripperdoc's clinic swirling into focus. But it's empty, eerily silent except for the hum of machinery.

Then, darkness pulls me back under, a silent tide that's too strong to fight. As I drift off, a part of me wonders what happened to Danny. The guilt is still there, a dull ache in the back of my mind.

"Sorry, Danny," I whisper into the void. "Looks like this protagonist is on a forced hiatus." And with that, I let the darkness take me, surrendering to the unknown.

Slowly, consciousness creeps back in, like a cautious burglar tiptoeing through the back door of my mind. I hear a voice, clear and authoritative, cutting through the haze. "Ryker. Ryker, can you hear me?" The voice belongs to a man standing over me, his face a blur of concern and professionalism. He's a ripperdoc, his tools and gadgets arranged around the room like a techie's dream.

Beside him stands Skaya, her cyberware eyes glowing softly in the dim light of the clinic. The look on her face is a cocktail of worry and impatience. I can almost hear her internal cash register tallying up the cost of this little adventure.

"Wha...?" My voice comes out as a croak, my throat dry and my brain feeling like it's been used as a punching bag. "I asked some people on the forum to do swaps, they will rate my story if I will rate them back..." I slur, my words making about as much sense as a drunk nomad at a corpo convention.

The ripperdoc, unfazed by my nonsensical response, continues his examination. "You're at my clinic, Ryker. You've had a severe reaction to some unknown cyberware. You're lucky Skaya brought you here when she did."

The room starts to come into focus, and I notice the array of medical equipment surrounding me, blinking and whirring like a cyberpunk orchestra. The pain is a dull throb now, a reminder that I'm still among the living.

My mind gropes for clarity, but it's like trying to catch a greased-up cyber ferret. "Where is Danny?" I mumble, the name slipping out before I can stop it. My concern for Danny feels like a heavy weight, dragging me back to the reality of the situation.

There's a pause, a silence that hangs in the air like a bad smell. No one answers my question about Danny, their faces a mix of confusion and concern. It's clear they have no idea who or what I'm talking about.

Skaya finally breaks the silence, her voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. "Ryker, focus. You're safe now, but you need to rest. We can talk about your... forum swaps and story ratings later."

The ripperdoc nods in agreement, a no-nonsense look etched onto his face. "She's right," he says, adjusting some equipment. "You need to recover. We'll monitor your cyberware closely."

As they speak, the reality of my situation begins to sink in. I'm not just a guy with a headache anymore; I'm a patient in a ripperdoc's clinic, with mystery tech in my head and a missing friend out there somewhere in the chaos of Night City.

The room fades again as a wave of exhaustion washes over me. As I drift back into the darkness, a single thought echoes in my mind: "Danny, where are you, man?" The guilt and worry gnaw at me as I surrender to the forced rest, the world fading away once more. Awakening in the sterile environment of the ripperdoc's clinic, I could feel every aching part of my body protesting. My head was pounding like a bad hangover, minus the fun memories of the night before. The room was quiet, except for the soft hum of machinery, and there was Skaya, her cyberware eyes reflecting the dim light, concern etched on her face.

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"About time you woke up," Skaya remarked, a hint of relief in her voice. I tried to sit up, but it felt like moving through molasses. "What happened?" My voice came out like sandpaper.

"You almost fried your brain with that cyberware," she explained. "The ripperdoc had to do some emergency patching. You were out for quite a while."

The mention of time passing made me think of Danny. The guilt was like a punch to the gut. "Danny... the Maelstroms... What happened to him?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. Once we got out, I was focused on keeping you from flatlining. It was three days ago."

The thought of leaving Danny behind gnawed at me. He was more than just a fellow runner in this mess; he was a friend. A friend I had left in the clutches of those cybernetic maniacs.

The ripperdoc walked in then, his face serious. "You're lucky to be alive, Ryker. That cyberware in your head is something else. I've managed to stabilize you, but you need rest."

Rest? With Danny out there and these strange visions and codes in my head? "I need to find Danny," I muttered, though my body begged to differ.

"Going out now is suicide," Skaya said, almost reading my mind.

I sank back into the bed, a mix of frustration and exhaustion washing over me. "Can you... can you check on Danny?" I asked, hoping she'd agree.

"I'll see what I can find out. But you stay put," she replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.

As she left, I lay there, feeling like a broken toy. It was a bizarre turn of events. From data analyst to this... cybernetic mess in a ripperdoc's clinic. And then, as if reading my thoughts, Skaya popped her head back in, a smirk on her face.

"By the way, that bunny tattoo? Really adds to your tough guy image. And the clothes... well, let's just say, you won't be winning any fashion awards." Her attempt at humor was as welcome as it was necessary.

I couldn't help but let out a weak chuckle. "Thanks..."

Lying on that clinic bed, I tried to focus as the ripperdoc, a man who looked like he'd seen his fair share of cyberware nightmares, introduced himself. "I'm Dr. Ito. You're lucky to be alive, Ryker." His voice was as steady as his hands, which were littered with tattoos, a stark contrast to the pristine tools he meticulously arranged.

I managed a weak smile. "Thanks for saving my hide, Doc. But, uh, I gotta be honest, I'm not exactly swimming in eddies to pay for this."

Dr. Ito gave me a long, assessing look, his eyes like scanners dissecting every byte of my digital woes. "Your bill's open. We can sort out the payment later. Right now, your health is my concern."

Relief washed over me, mingled with a tinge of anxiety about the accumulating debt. "What's the damage, Doc? Am I gonna make it?"

He sighed, pulling up a chair. "The cyberware in your head is... bit strange yet it's standard model but someone added something to the soft. It's putting a strain on your system, more than your body can handle. Removing it isn't an option right now—it's too risky. It's stressing your system to its limits. I can't remove it without causing serious harm. But I've got a temporary solution."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued and apprehensive. "I'm listening."

"I've installed additional cyberware to help your body cope with the strain. It's not ideal, but it should keep you stable for the time being."

Great. A ticking time bomb in my body. I nodded, the weight of the situation settling on my shoulders. "And the cost for this...temporary fix?"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Skaya payed for you."

As Dr. Ito mentioned Skaya covering the cost, a mix of gratitude and discomfort swirled in me. "She did, huh? That's... unexpected." I tried to laugh it off, but it came out more like a scoff. "You know, there's an unwritten rule somewhere - men pay for ladies, not the other way around. And when it's flipped, well, it usually means they're expecting something in return. When men pay, it's just... well, you know."

Dr. Ito just nodded, unfazed by my ramblings. He seemed more like a guy who'd seen it all than someone who'd judge a street-level philosophy on gender roles and payments.

"But Doc," I continued, shifting uncomfortably on the clinic bed, "there's something else. This cyberware, it's... I see things. Is this a sign of cyberpsychosis?"

Dr. Ito looked at me intently, his gaze sharp and analytical. "Cyberpsychosis is a detachment from reality, often violent. What you're describing sounds more like an unintended side effect of the cyberware."

That made me pause. It was both a relief and a new source of worry. "So what does that mean for me? Am I a walking time bomb?"

"You're stable for now," he reassured me. "But you need to be cautious. This cyberware... is uncharted territory. We don't fully understand its capabilities or limitations."

Great, more mysteries in a life that was turning into a cybernetic thriller. "Thanks, Doc. I guess I'll take it one step at a time." I lay back, the weight of my situation heavy on my mind.

Lying there, staring up at the ceiling, I started talking to myself, trying to make sense of the madness. "Okay, Ryker, think. You somehow turned this cyberware on, but how? Stress, adrenaline, sheer panic at the Maelstrom base? It's gotta be a hint."

I chuckled to myself, a bit of dark humor to lighten the mood. "Well, at least I don't have some terrorist in my head trying to hijack my body. Small victories, right?"

Reaching for my phone, I dialed Danny's number. No answer, just the endless ring that seemed to echo my growing unease. "Danny, buddy, you better be okay out there," I whispered, more to myself than anyone else.

I attempted to sit up, feeling like an old netrunner booting up a relic of a machine. Every movement was labored, but it was a start. "Look at you, Ryker. A few days ago, you were just analyzing data, and now you're a part-time cyborg mystery."

Gingerly, I stood up, immediately hit by a wave of dizziness. Leaning on the bed for support, I managed a weak laugh. "Guess I won't be signing up for any marathons soon, huh?"

I took a slow, shaky step forward, feeling like I was learning to walk all over again. "One step at a time, Ryker. You got this," I encouraged myself.

Dr. Ito's words echoed in my head as I headed for the door. 'Your body's still adjusting.' Adjusting? That was an understatement. But I was determined to figure this out, to make sense of the cyberware, the data shadows, and most importantly, to find Danny.

"Hey, Doc, you got any guns for sale?" Ryker asked, trying to sound casual.

Dr. Ito raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. "Guns? That's not typically part of the medical inventory. Why? Planning a little excursion?"

Ryker leaned back, trying to channel his inner Morgan Blackhand. "You could say that. I need to... settle a score."

The ripperdoc sighed, rummaging through a drawer before pulling out a somewhat battered-looking pistol. "This is all I have. Not exactly top-grade, but it'll fire."

Ryker examined the gun with feigned expertise. It felt heavy and alien in his hands, like a foreign language he'd never learned. "Perfect. I'll take it. Just add it to Skaya's bill."

Dr. Ito looked skeptical. "You sure she won't mind?"

Ryker waved off the concern with a smirk. "Nah, she's good for it. She's practically my patron saint of lost causes now."

The ripperdoc shrugged, still looking uncertain. "Alright then. But, Ryker... have you ever actually used one of these before?"

Ryker puffed out his chest, trying to look confident. "Have I ever used a gun? Please, I'm practically a descendant of Morgan Blackhand himself."

Dr. Ito squinted at him, clearly not buying the act. "Right... well, just don't shoot yourself in the foot. Metaphorically or otherwise."

As Ryker tucked the gun away, he couldn't help but feel like he was playing dress-up in a very dangerous game. He knew his experience with guns was limited to the occasional VR shooting range.