Cyberpunk City AI

The MagRail hissed as it cut through the night, neon city lights flickering across the carriage windows. Mira sat with the capsule tucked beneath her arm, its faint glow leaking through the fabric of her satchel. The four of them had claimed a booth near the back, trying to look like nothing more than tired kids riding the late shift.

Rika gnawed on a synth snack stick, her glowing ear implants pulsing in rhythm with the music faintly buzzing from someone’s headphones two rows down. Kaio, as always, was buried in his lenses, mapping possible exit points and jamming cameras along the line. Drexel tapped his metal wrist against the tabletop, each click-click of his joint making Mira’s nerves edge tighter.

“Relax,” Rika muttered, watching him. “You’re gonna set the whole car on edge.”

Before Drexel could reply, the MagRail lurched violently. Lights sputtered. Passengers gasped.

Then came the grinding—metal tearing on metal, the sound of claws dragging against the train’s hull.

Kaio’s lenses flashed red. “They found us.”

⸻

The emergency lighting kicked in just as the side door blew open. Sparks showered the aisle, and the Rust Devils swarmed in.

They were terrifying up close—patched-together armor, helmets streaked with rust paint, cybernetic limbs hissing with crude hydraulics. Their leader pushed in last, visor cracked, his massive cyberarm sparking as it flexed.

“Evening, kids,” he rasped. “You’ve got something of ours.”

Passengers shrieked, scattering down the length of the car. The train crew sealed themselves in the control cabin, ignoring the chaos.

Mira shoved the satchel under the booth. “Stay sharp.”

But the Devils didn’t hesitate. One lunged straight at Drexel, slamming him hard against the carriage wall. His shock-blade flicked open, crackling, but the Devil’s rusted cyberarm pinned him tight.

“Got one!” the gang member barked.

“Drexel!” Rika shouted, leaping to her feet, implants glowing hot.

The capsule pulsed violently under the seat, light bleeding through the seams of Mira’s bag. She felt it in her skull again—the rhythm, the whisper. This time it wasn’t background noise. This time it was a command.

Kaio snapped a smoke charge from his jacket and locked eyes with her. “We move now, or we lose him.”

Mira’s hand hovered over the satchel. The capsule throbbed like a heart, begging to be unleashed.

In the flashing emergency lights, Drexel struggled against the Devil’s grip, his eyes locked on Mira. “Don’t let them take it!”