Cyberpunk City AI

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Category: Cyberpunk City Shorts

Short stories about Cyberpunk City

  • Marcus Cain: Breakout

    The Zenith Dynamics storefront was too quiet. Marcus slipped through the glass doors after midnight, his boots echoing against immaculate tiles that didn’t belong in Iron Alley. The shelves were lined with sterile displays—cybernetic parts gleaming under cold white light. But they were decoys. He felt it in his bones. He moved deeper, past a…

  • Marcus Cain: The Storefront

    The rain hadn’t let up in days. Iron Alley glistened with its own decay—neon bleeding into puddles, steam hissing from broken vents, the constant hum of survival layered over every corner. Marcus Cain moved through it like a shadow, guided less by sight and more by instinct. That’s when he saw it. Wedged between a…

  • Marcus Cain: Whispers in the Rust

    The bar was little more than a rusted shell with flickering signs bolted to its walls, the kind of place where daylight never dared to crawl. Smoke coiled from cracked vents, mixing with the sour tang of burnt synth-liquor. Marcus Cain sat at the counter, one hand wrapped around a chipped glass, the other resting…

  • Marcus Cain: The Relic Who Remembers

    Marcus Cain was not born in Iron Alley—he was delivered into its shadows by betrayal. Before the Rust Devils marked the walls with fire and neon, before NeuroCorp laced the city with NeuroBliss, Marcus wore the black and blue of Zenith Dynamics’ private security division. Back then, he was a believer. He thought his augmentations—one eye…

  • Signal Deviation

    The NeuroCorp Tower loomed above Neon Spire like a blade, its obsidian surface absorbing the shimmer of storm-lit clouds. At the tower’s highest floor, amid rows of suspended data helixes and pulsing neural interfaces, Eron Vex stood at the edge of the observatory chamber. Below, the city thrummed—its lights erratic, like a circuit under strain.…

  • Beneath the Buzz of Iron Alley

    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…

  • Zoey and the Agent in Aisle Seven

    It started with a sign she’d never seen before. Tucked between a shuttered arcade and a storefront selling rebranded body mods, the glowing triangle caught Zoey’s eye: ZENITH DYNAMIC / HUMAN FUTURE DIVISION. No blaring music. No hawkers. Just soft white lights behind perfectly polished glass, and a door that hissed open at her approach like…

  • Zoey and the Aisles of Light

    Zoey leaned against the rusted support beam beside a shuttered juice bar, the scent of her own fry oil still clinging to her clothes. The internal alleys of the Neon Labyrinth were alive tonight, pulsing with magenta signage, flickering blues, and the constant buzz of vending drones overhead. She hadn’t eaten. Not really. She’d nibbled…

  • Zoey in the Labyrinth

    Zoey didn’t have a tragic backstory or a secret past. She wasn’t ex-military, didn’t owe anyone money, and had never touched a weapon more serious than a fry spatula. She was just one of the thousands making it work in the Neon Labyrinth—Cyberpunk City’s winding artery of night markets, vertical alleys, and sensory overload. She ran…

  • How the Naturas Maintain Verdant Verge

    The Naturas maintain Verdant Verge not by rejecting technology, but by rewiring its purpose—taking the cold logic of the city’s systems and turning them toward growth, healing, and collective memory. When the Naturas first reclaimed the forgotten district, it was little more than a cracked layer of the old city, buried under moss, rust, and…