Cyberpunk City AI

The construct’s glowing eyes locked on Mira’s for a single breath, its kneeling form humming like a resonant chord. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the liquid lattice unraveled.

The glyphs broke apart, dissolving into droplets of blue-silver light that spiraled upward before vanishing into the night rain. The capsule itself cracked and went dark, lifeless, nothing more than an empty shell at her feet.

Mira staggered, clutching her chest. The whispers weren’t gone—they’d gone inside.

She gasped and doubled over. Images flared in her mind: rusted walkways, flickering neon, walls scarred with gang tags. She saw Drexel pinned in a chair, Rust Devils surrounding him, their leader’s cracked visor glaring down.

“I know where he is,” Mira whispered, her voice shaky but certain. She looked up at Rika and Kaio, her eyes wide. “They took him back to their holdout in Iron Alley.”

⸻

The three huddled under the cover of the platform, the city’s neon glow dripping down the rain-slick streets. In the distance, a guttural laugh echoed from a nearby alley. Mira pulled Rika and Kaio into the shadows, pressing them against the cold wall.

The Rust Devils were here.

Through the patter of rain, Mira picked out voices—metallic, distorted by cheap vocoders.

“Boss says hold him till morning. Spread the word—put out a ransom. They’ll pay big for the capsule.”

A second voice grumbled, sharp with confusion. “Why does Zenith care so much about that thing anyway? It’s just another Bliss variant, ain’t it?”

“No,” the first voice snapped. “You saw what it did. Corps don’t throw money like this unless it’s special.”

Mira’s pulse quickened. She could still feel the echo of the construct, its glyphs burned into her vision. It wasn’t Bliss. It wasn’t anything she’d ever seen. And Zenith wanted it badly enough to pay a gang like the Rust Devils to risk a war.

⸻

Kaio leaned in close, whispering into her ear. “We’re running blind. If Zenith’s involved, this is bigger than us.”

But Mira shook her head. The connection still thrummed inside her, pointing like a compass straight toward Drexel.

“No,” she said, her voice hardening. “It’s not bigger than us. It’s personal.”

Rika’s implants flared crimson as she cracked her knuckles. “Then let’s get our boy back.”