They sat in silence on the cold metal steps, tucked into a forgotten edge of Iron Alley where the ramen shop’s orange lantern flickered just enough to cast warmth on their faces. The rain had stopped, but the steam still curled from the vents around them, catching the blue glow of the NeuroBliss vial at her feet. He adjusted the synthetic connectors on her cybernetic forearm, fingers steady but slow.
“It’s not broken,” she whispered.
“I know,” he said, not stopping.
She looked down the alley, where the faded neon signs buzzed with tired life and the distant hum of life in the city refused to pause. Flags from a long-passed festival still hung like ghosts in the wires above.
“I thought joining them would mean we’d finally matter,” she said. “Rust Devils… like they had a purpose.”
He finally stopped, resting his hand on hers. “Maybe they did. Maybe they still do. But this—” he nodded toward the vial, “—isn’t the kind of purpose we wanted.”
The NeuroBliss pulsed faintly, as if listening. She didn’t move to touch it.
They stayed like that, side by side, while Iron Alley moved on without them.
Cyberpunk City AI 
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