Cyberpunk City AI

The Rust Devils’ voices faded into the drizzle, their laughter echoing down Iron Alley. Mira crouched low, heart hammering, watching the gang vanish into the maze of neon-lit streets.

“We can’t just wait around,” Rika hissed. Her violet buzzcut glowed faintly under the neon. “Drexel’s in there somewhere—we hit them hard, drag him out, and go.”

Kaio shook his head, pushing his glowing glasses higher on his nose. “That’s suicide. We don’t even know which block they’re holding him. Best case, we walk into the wrong den. Worst case, we don’t walk out.”

Mira stayed quiet. The capsule’s echoes had gone still inside her, leaving only the sound of rain dripping from exposed wires above. Her gut twisted, desperate to act—but Kaio was right. Running in blind would get them all killed.

“Then we plan,” she said finally. “Find someone who knows the Devils’ moves. A merchant, a runner—somebody.”

But before Kaio could respond, a harsh metallic clang cut through the alley. One of the Devils had stopped mid-stride, visor turning back.

“Oi,” the vocoded voice growled, echoing down the walls. “Thought I heard rats.”

The others turned with him. Crimson visors swept the shadows.

“They’ve seen us,” Mira whispered.

“Run!” Rika snapped.

The teens bolted, boots splashing neon puddles as the Rust Devils charged after them, armor clanking like jagged metal beasts. The alley twisted and narrowed, graffiti-smeared walls closing in as they sprinted past flickering signs and shuttered doors. A Devil’s grapple claw cracked into the ground inches from Kaio’s feet, tearing up sparks.

“Left!” Mira shouted, shoving a crate into the path. They darted into a side street, lungs burning, the gang’s shouts echoing closer.

At the end of the passage, a crooked wooden door stood half-open, its frame glowing with faint amber light. A hand beckoned urgently from inside.

“In here, quick!” a voice rasped.

The three teens stumbled through, slamming the door shut behind them just as heavy boots thundered past.

Inside, the air smelled of spices and dust. Shelves were crammed with jars of herbs, glowing vials, and exotic powders. Strange lanterns cast warm light through the cramped shop.

“Welcome to Peppy’s,” the shopkeeper said calmly, her cybernetic eyes gleaming as she locked the door. “The Devils don’t hunt in here. Sit down before you fall over.”

Mira looked at her in shock. “You know about them? About Drexel?”

The shopkeeper gave a thin smile. “Child, I know more about the Devils than they know about themselves. You want your friend back—you’ll need more than courage. You’ll need a plan.”