We the People

2070

• Following the end of the Unification War and the signing of the Arvin Accord, the Arasaka Corporation officially reestablishes its headquarters in Night City

2076

• David Martinez's mercenary crew is eliminated by the Arasaka Corporation following a bloody battle in City Center; the Cyberskeleton program is officially scrapped

2077

• The Arasaka Corporation announces the "Secure Your Soul" program, allowing the rich and powerful to digitize their consciousness into a "personality construct", effectively achieving immortality in cyberspace
• In secret, Arasaka develops a prototype version of the Relic biochip, which can transfer the personality construct, or "engram", into a compatible host body
• Yorinobu, son of Saburo Arasaka, steals the prototype Relic 2.0 in an attempt to thwart his father's efforts of achieving his own immortality; he has the biochip programmed with the engram of Night City rockerboy legend and terrorist Johnny Silverhand
• The Voodoo Boys, a powerful gang of Haitian-born netrunners, learn of the Relic's existence and seek to acquire it; they engage a doll known as Evelyn Parker due to her proximity to Yorinobu
• Evelyn contracts with the Afterlife, the heartbeat of Night City's mercenary underworld, to plan a heist of the Relic from Yorinobu's penthouse at the Arasaka-owned Konpeki Plaza hotel
• Two up-and-coming rookie mercenaries are hired by the Afterlife for the heist; their names are Jackie Welles and V
• During the heist, the two mercenaries witness the murder of Saburo Arasaka at Yorinobu's hands and their presence is discovered soon thereafter
• The Relic's storage systems are damaged during the escape, forcing V as the lone survivor to slot the biochip to maintain its integrity, and her payday; she is betrayed by her fixer, shot and left for dead in the Night City landfills
• V is miraculously revived by the Relic, but the fuse is already lit as the biochip fulfills its designed purpose, overwriting V's brain with the consciousness of Johnny Silverhand; the race is on to find a cure
• Goro Takemura, a disgraced Arasaka enforcer and personal bodyguard of Saburo, contacts V to offer his help in clearing their names and implicating Yorinobu in his father's murder; in exchange, Arasaka can remove the biochip from V's head and potentially reverse the damage already done
• Takemura and V enact a dangerous plan and succeed in kidnapping Hanako Arasaka, Yorinobu's younger sister, during a public appearance in Night City; Takemura believes Hanako can be swayed to act against her brother
• Bounties are placed by Arasaka on both Takemura and V, leading to a raid in which Takemura is killed, and Hanako rescued; V narrowly escapes the altercation
• Hanako contacts V in secret, expressing a desire to meet; she believes V's story and wishes to restore Arasaka from Yorinobu's control
• After meeting with Hanako near the City Center, V goes missing; despite efforts by both Arasaka Security Forces and Night City Police, the mercenary known as V is never seen nor heard from again
• Hanako moves forward to implicate Yorinobu in their father's murder in front of the board of directors for the Arasaka Corporation; Yorinobu has called the meeting to eliminate any resistance to his takeover
• Yorinobu is defeated, and his mind overtaken by Saburo's engram
• The Relic's ability to grant immortality is established in a press conference; the Arasaka Corporation flourishes in Night City

2078

• The Arasaka Corporation's influence and power over Night City grows rapidly, becoming the de facto power broker
• As a Fifth Corporate War looms over the City, Militech aligns with Night Corp; Petrochem, Biotechnica, and Netwatch follow suit shortly after
• Anti-corpo sympathizers backed by City Hall organize peaceful demonstrations against the Arasaka Corporation; Arasaka Security Forces are deployed throughout the City to undermine the mounting dissent

2079

• As tensions increase, skirmishes break out between Arasaka Security Forces and the united anti-corpo factions; the Night City Police Department steps in to prevent further bloodshed, and the Corpo Riots begin...

[2079 - The Glen, Heywood, Night City]

The small apartment stunk to the heavens with stale cigarette smoke hanging heavy in the air. Even the overhead ceiling fan wasn't cutting it, prompting one of the men present in the room to call out in a gruff voice, "Somebody crack a goddamn window already?"

"Bitch, bitch, bitchbitchbitch...", another man joked as he reached over and released the latch, letting the window swing out on its own as the smoke slowly filtered outside, "I swear that's all you do is bitch... whether here or on the jobsite."

The first man smiled and flashed a middle finger, the second man responding in kind. There were several others in the room, all gathered around a small dining table, all eyes pouring over a map of the City Center district.

While the smells of the city weren't much better, especially for a tenement building shoved directly under a highway overpass, at least there was "fresh" air to replace the smoke and body odor permeating every surface in the room. Every man present had a day job, and most of them were simple skilled laborers, the day's efforts leaving them in the rarified air of their own musk; but the one thing they all shared in common between them was their steadfast loyalty to one man.

Emiliano Valdez was as strong as he was charismatic, a true streetkid from Heywood, and a proud and proper child of Night City. He had seen it all over the almost forty years granted to him. Unlike some of his childhood chooms, he chose early in life to make something more of himself than another two-bit ganger fighting for scraps. It wasn't easy by any means, but he had a successful career working up the ranks of a Night Corp construction subcontractor. It certainly wasn't enough to get him out of Heywood, not that he would have left anyway. His heart belonged to the streets, and he had put too much of himself in trying to help his fellow man. He was well-known in the neighborhood, and well-respected. Most of the men in the room either currently worked for him, or had worked for him in the past, affording him a considerable influence that he would never betray. Every man was here of his own free will, and each of them shared in Emiliano's vision.

He was a handsome and tidy man standing at just shy of six feet tall. His full head of jet black and neatly combed hair was tapered on the sides with a cut-in hard part and a trimmed mustache not extending beyond the corners of his mouth to match. He was groomed, but he never forgot his humble origins with a simple blue button-up shirt tucked into a pair of faded denim jeans complete with worn steel-toed work boots. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing several large tattoos over muscular and veiny forearms with subtle cyberware threading. The tattoos were all of Valentinos origins... a past life, but one he wanted to be reminded of so that he never swayed.

The most notable of his features, aside from his dark brown eyes, was his smile. His entire jaw was cut from stone, and a flash of his teeth could melt steel. But behind all of his rugged good looks was an honest heart and a desire to do right by those he loved. And so he leaned over the table, observing every inch of the expansive map as the other men carried on around him. He held a pencil between his teeth as his brow furrowed, one of the voices calling to him, "We need to know what you're thinking if we're going to help, boss."

A few laughs were shared among present company before Emiliano joined in, slacking his jaw as the pencil fell on the map. He looked up and around at all the men standing around him and said in a warm and strong voice with a chicano accent, "Someone spell me a smoke, first?"

Another round of laughs, and the closest man to his right reached over, holding a fresh cigarette between his calloused fingers. Emiliano gracefully took it between his lips before standing up straight as the same man provided him a light. He smiled and took a deep drag, exhaling through his nose, "Thanks, choom... okay boys, here's how it goes down..."

He spent the next several minutes detailing every angle, their approach, where to stand, when to retreat, and most of all, when to react if needed. There was no way around it, they were all planning a march on City Hall, recently overtaken by Arasaka, with one goal in mind: to join their brothers and sisters in standing up to the corpo greed and tyranny that had consumed their city for far too long. Each of them had been affected in some way by Arasaka's meteoric rise to the top. For most of them, it was a loss of work as more and more jobs were insourced to Arasaka contractors on the basis of nepotism; Emiliano's reasons were much more personal.

A year ago to the day, during what should have been a routine checkpoint stop once Arasaka established a security presence on the streets, a firefight broke out with the local Valentinos color airing their frustrations in the form of a drive-by shooting. As tends to happen with haphazard gunfire, the six Arasaka operators weren't the only casualties. All in all, at least double that number in civilians fell victim to the shooting, among which was Emiliano's wife. Twenty years together with two children, and all of it was lost in the blink of an eye.

As much as he wanted to blame the gang violence intrinsic to his home district, he knew in his heart... or was too stubborn to admit otherwise... that the blame for this lay solely at the feet of the megacorporations that had raped, pillaged, and otherwise exploited Night City's denizens for decades. They created these circumstances.

The Valentinos were not without their faults, but as a gang, they were more stable than any other gang in the City. They were rooted in their collective heritage and their community. They were a brotherhood above all else, and they looked after their own. Very rarely were the people of Heywood targeted by the Valentinos unless some egregious offense needed answering. Emiliano knew all too well that nobody in Night City was without sin in some way, but he had spent his entire life watching people raked over the coals by the corporations, including his own employer; at least Night Corp actually had the City's interests at heart, or so they claimed. Even that was hard to believe some days.

While the loss of his wife may have been the flint that sparked the fire of his current militance, he had always harbored anti-corpo sentiments; everyone in Night City did. For a city that was founded on the principles of escaping the capitalist collapse that plagued the rest of the country like a cancer, the corporations had done one hell of a job swooping in at the first possible sign of weakness. Even after Arasaka was ousted from the City following the end of the Fourth Corporate War, they patiently bided their time and waited. Color no one surprised that when Night City was faced with the impending doom of being overrun by NUSA forces during the Unification War, who showed up to save them? All it took was parking a fucking supercarrier in the Del Coronado Bay after then-Mayor Lucius Rhyne took a knee for his soon-to-be corpo masters.

No, Night City in its present form was far and away from what its founder had ever envisioned. Instead, it had almost become a parody to the memory of Richard Night. And while everyone else was perfectly content to throw their hands up and say it was out of their control, Emiliano's convictions were unshakable that he was doing the right thing. He wanted to help create a better city, for his people and for what was left of his family.

Where are they, anyway...?, Emiliano wondered as his men talked among themselves over the map. He took another drag of the cigarette, stepping around the table as he leaned against the window frame and looked out over the dark and damp alleyway facing the street. His building sat unloved and almost entirely forgotten under a stretch of the Pacifica Boulevard overpass. The sun never shined here, the sky completely blocked from sight until you stepped out onto the sidewalks of Los Lobos Street. Still, from the eerie tint of orange, Emiliano could tell the sun was setting. The equally unmaintained buildings walling in the alley all the way to the street were covered from roof to foundation in Valentinos graffiti with various posters and advertising screens pockmarked in between. In the dead of night, there was a heavy and stagnant smog all throughout, pierced and polluted by the neon glow of signs as people came and went. This city never slept, and neither did the sins committed by its inhabitants, whether down in the streets or in the glass and steel towers overshadowing the Glen.

Emiliano was pulled from his own mind as the front door to his apartment opened, and in walked the two most important people in his life in the form of his teenage daughter, Maya, and her younger brother, Antonio. He wore a relieved smile as a sweet and silky voice called to him, "Hey Papá, sorry we're late!"

He tossed the butt out the window as he cross the table again, meeting his daughter halfway in a hug as he asked, "Where have you two been, huh? It's getting dark out."

Maya wrapped herself around Emiliano as she laughed and said, "Kickin' it with Padre over at El Coyote..."

Emiliano tensed up, his eyes shooting open. Maya felt the shift in his body as she laughed again, "Relax, Papá... I'm only teasing. We were putting up your posters around the neighborhood."

His eyes cut over to the same poster hanging on their wall, suddenly bashful at seeing an artistic visage of himself staring back. A recent development in his life, and not one he was entirely comfortable with but nonetheless felt called to, was the pressure to run for City Council. He had a vested interest in the City and its people, and he truly believed change was possible. He wasn't naïve; he was driven. And his people stood by and behind him, propping him up. In every definition of the phrase, he was a man of the people. And like the men in this very room, that was a trust he would never betray.

But above all else, he was a father first and foremost, and he smiled as he looked back to his daughter. She was the spitting image of her mother with a kind smile behind full lips set in a gentle face. She had round and deep brown eyes with thick and untamed black hair hanging down one side of her face. A bit of youthful insurrection, one whole side of her head was shaved up to her natural part, with a purely cosmetic cyberware thread pattern cut into the fuzz. Emiliano would have preferred she have nothing to do with the current generation's fashion tastes, but he knew a little rebellion was good for the soul. She was a good kid; smart, beautiful, and compassionate. If he didn't know better, he'd say she was too pure for Night City.

If he didn't know better, considering he saw her pierced navel under a cropped t-shirt with loose-fit cargo cut-offs barely clinging to her petite waist, her wider hips being her only saving grace. He was unimpressed to say the least, but he wasn't about to have that discussion in front of everyone. Instead, he gently pecked the side of her head as he reached down and ran his hand through his son's hair. He was at peace with both of them here in his arms, even if only for a moment.

Maya wrinkled her nose with a light giggle at the show of fatherly affection as she asked, "So... when are we heading out...?"

"We?!", Emiliano nearly spat in surprise, startling Maya as he put his foot down, "No way in hell, mija... you both have school tomorrow. And this is no place for children..."

The shock on her face from the blunt response quickly turned to a pouty frown as she looked down, "W-We... I-I just want to help, Papá... we've come so far, and we're so close to really making a difference..."

The sadness in her face pulled Emiliano back from the ledge as he lowered his voice, "Maya... you've already done so much. You can help by keeping Tony safe, and yourself... but please stay away from this. I couldn't live with myself if—"

He couldn't even bring himself to say the words, his eyes welling up as the mere thought of anything happening to his children was enough to choke him. Maya saw the pain in his expression, and although she didn't like being told to stay behind, she understood it. Were it not for what happened to her mother, they wouldn't even be in this position, or at least not under these circumstances. Every step on this path carried with it an inconsolable pain weighing them down like cinder blocks. And they weren't alone. So many in Night City carried the same pain, and so far nobody had stood up to give them a voice. In the back of her mind, all she wanted was her father back, away from all of this, and if helping him become the voice the people needed was the way forward, she'd happily do whatever was needed... whatever he asked.

She obliged with a brief nod, her face carrying the same pain laced with an unchecked anger beneath the surface. Emiliano could see her mother's fighting spirit in her, and it scared the hell out of him to consider what she could accomplish if left unrestrained. That fire in her eyes could be useful once she was older, more levelheaded and knowledgeable about the world, but for now Emiliano took comfort in knowing he was making the right choice. He embraced her again tightly as one of the men in the room called to him, "Emil... it's time..."

He gave a deep sigh as he almost refused to let go of Maya, "I know... mija, I love you... please do as I ask..."

"Sí Papá...", Maya nodded against his shoulder before he shifted to lean down. He wrapped up Tony in his arms, giving a soft kiss to the side of his son's head, "Now mijo... you listen to your sister while I'm gone, eh? She's the lady of the house."

Tony stayed quiet, but nodded as he looked his father in the eyes before looking up to Maya. She smiled down at him with a light sniffle as Emiliano looked at both of them, "I love you both so much... I'll be back soon, I promise..."

Having nothing more to say, Emiliano forced himself to his feet, allowing several of his men to pass before he followed. As quick as they had crowded the small apartment, were they now gone, leaving Maya and Tony beside themselves as the door slid shut. The space suddenly felt much larger, albeit empty. Maya afforded herself a few seconds of looking around. Despite their attempts otherwise to make the space a humble family abode with personal effects, the apartment was still cold and closed off in its own way with the cheap off-white vinyl panels covering the floors and walls. As the men had concluded their business and left, the overhead fan remained on, the blades passing slowly and causing the holographic advertisements to flicker with the artificial breeze.

Maya hated being here by herself. Young as she was, she knew enough about Night City to know that every time someone walked out that door, there was a very real chance they weren't coming back. If fourteen years on this Earth had taught her anything, her best bet was to hope... and pray, her eyes drawing to a mounted crucifix on the wall. She brought her slender hand curled over her heart as she closed her eyes for just a moment. She felt a tug at her other hand, realizing she was still holding Tony's hand as he vied for her attention. She pulled him in with a hug and said, "Ya hungry?"

She felt his head nodding against her stomach as she rubbed his back. She didn't know if he really understood yet all that had transpired over the last year, but he'd been unusually quiet since their mother died. Maya only hoped that after tonight, they could try and find some peace and quiet above it all. But anyone with half a brain knew, peace wasn't ever in the cards for Night City...

--

[Section 9 — Counterintelligence, Arasaka Headquarters, City Center]

A dozen or more bodies buzzed like bees in a hive around an entire wall of giant screens and holographic heads-up displays, each of them collating and categorizing millions of pieces of information... and all of it to do with Arasaka's battle for the streets of Night City. Everyone present was neat and tailored, their suits pressed and hair immaculate. Like the samurai of old, anyone working for the Arasaka Corporation was held to the highest standards of personal discipline, forced to dedicate the whole of themselves to the perfection of whatever pursuits were assigned them. Anything less was tantamount to failure, and failure was unacceptable.

Voices carried over each other as the screens all unified into one conjoined image; a giant map of Night City, pockets of pulsing red overlaying the separate districts. As if to illustrate the circumstances, a powerful but young female voice narrated over everyone else, "The Riots are increasing in both volume and frequency. We count no less than fifty thousand bodies between all of these red areas."

An older and gruff male voice asked, "How recent is this data?"

"I-It's real-time, sir...", the female voice was suddenly shaky, "Each of these areas indicate protests happening right now, reported from our Sec-Ops teams on the ground."

"If we have boots on the ground...", the older voice of the Director inquired with sarcastic tone, "Then why are these demonstrations still taking place?"

The young woman stepped out of the shadows, taking her place next to her superior and trying to keep her hands from shaking. She was young, barely out of her twenties, but her appearance alone afforded her the steadfast description of company woman. Her medium length blonde hair was pulled back tight enough to rip the roots free of the follicles, and styled with lacquered chopsticks holding it in place. Her face bore unique threading patterns, her eyes shuttering red with the bits of information passing through them. As she manipulated the open air in front of her, holographic panels shifting and articulating, she obliged the Director's question, "S-Sir, the organizers have shown no hostile intent. They want to be seen and heard, but—"

"But with the resources available to us as the most powerful corporation in the world...", the older man barked, "We can't engineer the circumstances in our favor to quell this insubordination?"

The woman felt her superior's eyes burning a hole through her, and she gracefully bowed with no answer to give. As young as she was, if she was the picture-perfect company woman, her boss was the picture-perfect company man, and likely had been since before she was even born. His eyes harbored a bitter wisdom, each crow's foot at the corners owing to his significant experience. His forehead was equally deeply creased, the skin binding against the older threading patterns running from his gray crew cut down the front of his face and intersecting with RealSkinn panels extending from his neck below the collar of his stark-white shirt. His face was strong and cold, like the corporation signing his paychecks, and yet his hands were soft and manicured, peaking out from the hemmed sleeves of a starched suit jacket, black with red trim.

His face held no secrets; he was displeased with his assistant's answer, or lack thereof. He cut forward again, scouring over the screens as he asked with no inflection, "And what about City Hall? Great lengths were taken to secure our foothold there."

The woman saw a chance to shine and firmed herself upright. She flipped her hands as if filing through paper records. A number of dossiers flashed on screen, all persons of interest, but only one caught the older man's attention as his eyes narrowed against the woman's words, "There are bodies gathering outside and blocking the streets, but so far no attempts have been made to breach the gates into the courtyard. It seems they're waiting for this man to arrive and take charge."

The Director grumbled under his breath as he reviewed the current dossier on the screen; a handsome Latino face bearing no emotion. He was staring down Emiliano Valdez, likely as close to in the flesh as he would ever allow himself with a Night City native. He pointed and snapped his fingers, raising his powerful voice loud enough for all in the room to hear, "This man... is a cult of personality."

The shuffle of bodies ceased, all eyes glued to the screens as the Director continued, "This man is the thorn in our side, ever nagging at us, tearing us apart in the subtlest and most profound of ways. For too long has this man hindered our efforts, turning the people against us with his promise of progress... and they turn to him in their hour of darkness as the hero they need."

The young woman was almost transfixed and lost in the soulful eyes staring back at her on the screen, and all of it washed away in a second as the Director concluded, "This, we cannot abide. This ends... tonight."

Another voice among the bodies spoke up, "What are you orders, sir?"

A devilish smirk formed as the corners of the Director's mouth cracked. The young woman tried to interject, "W-We can declare the demonstration unlawful... force them to disperse before Valdez ever has a chance to rally them."

"My young assistant knows not the correlation between the high ground and abject weakness...", the Director chuckled as he taunted and humiliated the young woman in front of their entire department, "No, diplomacy has no place here. We must shatter their resolve once and for all... Valdez does not see tomorrow's rising sun."

The clamor resumed, all the bodies working even harder now to relay the orders down to the street level, to the ground-pounders. The young woman stared with wide eyes in horror at the Director as she tried to reason with him, "S-Sir! We can't open fire on peaceful demonstrators without a direct threat to our presence on the ground!"

"Then create a threat...", the Director growled, his eyes not leaving the screen, "A thousand eddies to any filth on the streets with nothing to lose... surely you can manage that? Or am I overestimating your abilities...?"

The woman's head hung in shame as she whispered, "N-No, sir..."

"Then see it done...", the Director gave his ultimatum, "I don't want to see you again unless it's to tell me that Valdez's body is cold in the streets."

"Sir, y-you'll make a martyr out of him...", the woman found her strength and persisted, "...t-that may be the spark they need for an all-out war."

"Martyrs can be memorialized, child...", the Director chided her again, "But a serpent without a head will perish before it can ever realize its full potential... you'll soon see."

The woman hated herself, but she had worked too hard to survive this long for all of it to be undone by her own youthful and rebellious urges. She clenched her jaw as she bowed and disappeared into the shadows behind the Director, his own eyes flashing orange as he spoke under his breath and out of her earshot, "Weakness must be excised like a cancer. Make sure she finishes the job, or finish it for her... and then finish her."

--

[One hour later - The Apartment, the Glen, Heywood]

Maya was stretched out on the couch in the small den, her mind a flurry of activity. Tony was fed and sitting at the kitchen table, dutifully doing his homework and oblivious to anything going on around him. Between the two of them, he was always the smarter and more dedicated. He was a good kid, a sweet kid. Maya loved him more than life itself, and she'd do anything to protect him. Shortly after their mother died, some gonk kids in their building were picking on Tony until Maya stepped in. She wasted no time putting them in their place, at least until their father confronted Emiliano about it. While he was none too impressed at his first-born getting into a scuff of any kind, angry as she was at the time, the other kids' father was even less impressed that his own boys were put in their place by such a petite and delicate creature.

She laughed to herself as she rolled a soft piece of paper between two fingers before bringing the open flap to her tongue. She wet the tip just enough with one last roll as the paper held itself loosely, securing the contents as she quickly looked over, making sure Tony wasn't watching. His back was to her, and she hid the paper in her hand as she jumped off the couch and walked over toward the windows. She was smart enough to know her old man had left at least one of his guys outside the front door, so that was a no-go, but maybe, just maybe the fire escape on the front of their building was left unattended. She unlatched and swung the window out as Tony looked up to her, "W-Where ya going, sis...?"

She smiled and gave him a wink, "Just between us, I'll be right back..."

Tony nodded and resumed his homework, scrawling a stylus over a handheld deck. Maya carefully and quietly swung one leg over the wall, planting her foot on the iron platform as she peeked over the edge. All seemed clear, and she swung her other leg over, bracing herself with her arms against the sill as she landed as softly as she could manage. There was a light rattle of the iron rungs reverberating, and she froze in place, eyes darting everywhere. After a solid thirty seconds of no movement, no one taking notice, she took a quiet step forward, placing the tip of the paper roll in her mouth. She rounded the railing of the ladder, taking the first rung down before a gruff voice called from below, "Don't even think about it, kid..."

Busted...

She swore at herself as she stopped, peering over the edge again as she saw one of her father's men standing all by himself in front of the building, shouldering a baseball bat across his collarbone as he smiled up at her, "Old man know ya smoke...?"

SHIT!

She couldn't even try to hide the joint hanging from her mouth, but she pulled it out anyway and asked, a tremble in her voice as she tried to pass it off, "Y-You're not going to say anything, are ya...?"

The older man's eyes narrowed for a moment before he flashed his teeth and quelled her sudden panic attack, "Won't hear it from me, kid... just, stay where I can see ya."

The man disappeared back under the awning of the building's front entrance, and Maya exhaled all of her anxiety as she crashed against the brick exterior, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. She placed the joint back in her mouth, the tip already moist from her saliva as she tilted her head down to light the other end. She inhaled deep, holding the joint between two delicate fingers as her hand fell to her side. She opened her mouth, allowing just enough smoke to escape before she sharply breathed in through her nostrils, what the Old World referred to as a French inhale.

She held the smoke as long as long as she could, her lungs clouding over as the heat lit up her insides, before she finally exhaled through her mouth and tried to mask a light cough. She could hear the man below chuckling to himself as a lighter flicked, the waft of cigarette smoke trailing up to join her smoke as it trapped itself under the concrete overpass. As she watched the smoke swirl upward, a distant sound caught her attention. Even two blocks away, amplified voices and chanting were carried by the air. The people had found their voice, announcing in unison that Night City was their city... not any corpo's.

Maya took another quick drag, watching the lit end as it burnt down. The smoke lit her up again, everything becoming a little hazy as her head started to spin. The lights seemed to sparkle a little more than before, the neon signs below looking fuzzier than she remembered. It was an entirely pleasant experience, and at this point about all she could do to calm her nerves. She slid down against the brick wall, bringing her knees to her chest as she looked all around. People coming and going about their daily lives without a care in the world. Everyone just trying to survive; just like her, they were surviving. Nothing more, nothing less. These few brief minutes of peace aside, the turbulence of Night City was only ever a breath away, and all anyone could do was stay just enough ahead of it to not get swallowed, chewed up, and spat back out.

Maya tried to shake the thoughts loose as she held her head in one hand, running her fingers through her thick hair. She brought the other hand up and took another drag. She was so scared, and she couldn't explain why. This wasn't the first time her father had left them alone to fight the good fight, but something in the back of her mind told her this might be the last time... and she tried with all her might to hold it together. For her sake, for Tony's sake, she had to be strong...

--

[Night City Hall, Ventura Street & Palms View Way, the Glen, Heywood]

Emiliano and his men arrived fashionably late, the crowds already having formed and blocking the streets in both directions as they faced off with the Arasaka Security Forces standing guard outside the main gates. In an impressive show of solidarity, the NCPD were also present, using their cruisers to create a barrier and prevent the corpo goons from getting any clever ideas about going after the civilians airing their grievances. The uniformed badges stood shoulder to shoulder, proud in their renewed sense of purpose. It was long known that the Night City Police Department was just as corrupt as any megacorporation, often taking a knee for a payout and a pat on the head. The last two years had seen nothing short of a revival as more and more cops took issue with Arasaka goons telling them their own business. Like their brothers and sisters, the citizens of Night City, it was time for a change.

The crowds stood strong together, arm in arm, chanting about the power of the people. Some held picket signs and waved flags or other articles emblazoned with the crest of Night City, while others in the back set fire to flags bearing the Arasaka crest. Emiliano was honestly surprised, and impressed... and just a little bit intimidated... as no less than a few thousand bodies had managed to cram themselves up and down the streets surrounding Night City Hall on three sides. People from all walks of life had come together, despite Arasaka's efforts to put them down, their voices heard all around the Glen. Even more, their unified efforts meant their voices were carried across the entire city as more demonstrations were forming every day. The people were tired of being stepped on, tired of being used and abused.

A few people turned as Emiliano and his entourage approached, immediately bowing out and making space, tapping the rows in front of them to do the same. Like the parting of the Red Sea, a path was made, and he found his confidence as he proudly stepped forward. People on either side smiled and greeted him, some reaching out to give him pats on the shoulder or to shake his hand, but one thing shared between everyone present was a shift from chanting to cheering as if to say, Our savior is here.

A burning flush crept on Emiliano's cheeks, the warmth in his heart overflowing as he smiled, waved, and returned every kind word spoken to him. His own men had to urge him forward several times, offering their own reassurances as he finally made his way to the front. A small space was made for him as he stood back to back with the cops protecting their people. He leaned back and asked one of the officers, "How's it been?"

The officer, a grizzled and rugged veteran with three stripes on his shoulders, laughed and said, "Both sides is itchin' for a fight, sir... whatever you came to say, now's the time to say it."

He followed up, passing Emiliano a handheld radio speaker-microphone. Emiliano turned, looking at every face he could make out. Some he recognized firsthand, others were foreign to him; but his heart and mind stood strong with all of them. He brought the mic to his mouth for a moment, considering his words carefully. The cheering slowly died down, an empty vacuum filling the void. He was suddenly without words, without a voice to offer, and despite a slight panic, he brought the mic down as he instead smiled and raised a fist with his other hand. The crowd resumed cheering, even louder than before. He felt the fire raging inside of him, his confidence building as he again brought the mic to his mouth and pressed the button, "Brothers and Sisters!"

The cheers grew even louder with fists raised in solidarity as Emiliano kept going, "Our City has been hijacked! We the People have been bent to the will of the megacorporations for far too long! Their pollution and fallout have poisoned our streets, invaded our homes, and stripped us of all our freedoms!"

The cheers grew discordant and chaotic as more people chanted, shouting obscenities and hurling torrents of abuse at the 'Saka guards. Emiliano sought to keep the crowds under control for the moment, and he raised an open palm as he scanned back and forth, "We are here to take back what's ours, but more importantly... we are here to send a message! These are our streets... not theirs. This is our City... not theirs!"

Amid the cheering and chanting, a hooded man with an obscured face pushed his way through the crowd, his glowing orange eyes locked on Emiliano. He was driven by one thing, and one thing only... to get to the front. Nobody noticed, and nobody seemed to care, and it suited his purposes just fine. Inch by inch, he moved forward, reaching into his jacket for something.

"I am proud to stand here with each and every one of you...", Emiliano continued, his eyes catching the shady figure moving shiftlessly, "I-I am proud to call you my bro—"

"BURN IT ALL DOWN!!!", the hooded man shouted as he pulled a cylindrical device from his jacket with one hand, presenting a slung submachine gun with his other. He squeezed the trigger and swept from side to side, watching as an entire row of people in front of him exploded into clouds of red mist and claret. Before anyone could react, he pulled a ringed pin from the device in his other hand and lobbed it up and over the crowd, over the cops. He watched it land amid a small grouping of Arasaka operators, counting down under his breath as he resumed firing.

Although five seconds felt like an eternity in this moment, before anyone on either side knew what was even happening, the heavy concrete walls surrounding Night City Hall erupted into the air with a deafening explosion and a ball of upward fire and smoke. Several of the Arasaka guards screamed, consumed by the flames as they clawed for nothing in particular before collapsing to the ground. The remaining operators acted on instinct, opening fire into the crowd as the police officers scrambled to shield the unprotected masses.

It was too late. Even as the lone gunman was cut down almost immediately, there was a fresh and gaping hole blown in the walls, and the crowds pressed forward as they overwhelmed both the cops and the Arasaka guards to storm the building. Emiliano's dream was already dead, and though nobody realized it yet, his lifeless body lay on the ground, cut to shreds by stray gunfire and trampled by the stampede.

--

[Some time later...]

Tony had long since fallen asleep at the kitchen table, Maya carrying him to his room and tucking him in. As much as he wanted to see his father when it was all over, he couldn't yet brave the midnight watch like his older sister. She was stretched out on the couch again, feet propped and pressing against the arm with a large pair of headphones blocking everything out as she swiped carelessly over a handheld cyberdeck. She was in her own world.

While 89.7 Growl FM assaulted her ears with pounding rhythms and the snarky backtalk of Dogtown's favorite pirate radio DJ, she didn't recognize at first the sound of wailing sirens approaching, and likely neither had she heard the gunfire or felt the explosion. Night City Hall was only a few blocks from their apartment building, but there was a jungle of steel and concrete between them. As sad a state of affairs as it was, stray gunfire in all colors of the rainbow wasn't a foreign experience for anyone in the Glen, or the entire City for that matter.

What did finally catch Maya's attention was the flashing and alternating red and blue lights bouncing off the buildings outside the open window. Her brow furrowed in curiosity as she pulled her headphones off, setting them and the deck down on a small coffee table as she sat upright and stood from the couch. While police activity in their 'hood also wasn't an uncommon experience, something about the timing had Maya on edge, each step closer to the window bringing with it heavier breathing and an encroaching shadow of doubt; she already knew in the back of her mind, but denial was a powerful force. She forced herself to square off in front of the window, looking down to try and gauge the goings-on. The same man from earlier was motioning with his hands to an NCPD officer with his arms crossed, his voice carrying loudly into the air, although Maya couldn't quite make out the words. Whatever it was, the man wasn't happy, and the officer wore a disaffected and detached expression.

And then came the knock at the front door. Maya's heart nearly stopped, her eyes opening wide. The male voice on the other side was familiar, almost gentle, "Hey chica? You awake in there...?"

She forced her eyes shut, praying silently this wasn't what she thought it was. The door slid open, the man entering as he saw Maya standing rigid in front of the window, almost statuesque. The man pressed her again, "...Maya... we need to talk..."

Her lips quivered, her entire body trembling as she tried to hold it in. Slowly, bit by bit, she turned, her long hair masking her face on the one side. Once the turn was complete, she saw her father's man standing in the doorway, eyes sunk and shoulders sagged inward. She looked past him, seeing another officer standing the hallway. Unlike his partner, his face bore a look of sorrow and sympathy. She knew then in that moment. There was no more denying what she knew, and her entire body crumpled as she fell to her knees. Her head hung low, holding her arms in toward her body as she released a single spine-shattering scream. The man rushed to her, trying in some way to comfort her although she fought him every step of the way. She didn't want to be consoled, and she certainly didn't want to be touched, swiping his hands away as she hyperventilated between heaving sobs. The only thing she wanted was now the one thing that could never be. She and her brother were all alone, their family broken. As the City burned on this night, so also an unbearable grief burned inside of Maya, consuming her entire being as she fell apart in the middle of the now emptier apartment.

--