Cyberpunk City AI

The alarms hadn’t tripped yet. Marcus moved like a shadow through the sterile corridors, his breath steady, the broken cuffs still dangling from his wrist. He kept to the edges, cybernetic eye cycling through spectrum filters—mapping cameras, heat signatures, and pulse monitors hidden in the walls. Zenith’s precision was everywhere.

He passed doors with reinforced glass, each one holding fragments of the harvest. Some cells held people sedated on gurneys, wires stitched into their temples. Others were filled with silence, their occupants already gone. Marcus clenched his jaw, his arm twitching with the memory of MagRail. He couldn’t free them now—not without bringing the whole facility down on his head.

At the end of the corridor, the space opened into a vast underground chamber. The sight froze him.

Banks of neon-lit screens pulsed with coded streams of data, their glow reflecting off chrome surfaces. Glass tubes stretched from floor to ceiling, filled with a bluish fluid where distorted silhouettes floated half-formed—human bodies suspended like experiments abandoned mid-sentence. Conveyor rails snaked overhead, carrying crates marked with Zenith’s insignia, sealed with biometric locks.

The lab wasn’t just a testing site. It was a production floor.

On one screen, schematics flickered—neural overlays, cybernetic augmentations mapped against unwilling human hosts. Notes scrolled beside them in stark white font: Iteration 34: stability remains unachieved. Further acquisition required.

Marcus’s stomach tightened. The harvest wasn’t random. It was feeding Zenith’s next weapon.

He crouched low behind a bank of tubing, scanning for guards. His instincts told him this wasn’t just about the people Zenith had taken—it was about what they were building out of them. Something new. Something dangerous.